She strode to the door and yanked it open, determined to get some fresh air on her face. It would help to clear her mind and settle her thoughts. At the end of the corridor, she found a set of steps which she climbed and wandered through a series of passages that held doors just like her own—other guest rooms at a guess. Which one was Kai’s? Where was he staying?
No! Stop it!
She climbed another staircase, this one longer than the first, and came out into a long, narrow gallery. Tapestries covered the back wall but the other housed a large wooden door that stood open, flooding the gallery with light. Through the open door Caitlin could hear the sounds of seagulls.
Ah ha! Caitlin stepped through the door and found herself on a wide stone balcony. A waist-high balustrade cordoned it off but even so the sudden height was enough to make Caitlin gulp. She was high up in one of Dun Cator’s towers and the land fell away below her so that all she could see were the roofs of the keep, the village beyond that, and gulls that circled, searching for food.
She inhaled deeply, leaned on the balustrade and closed her eyes, sucking in the invigorating sea air and letting it calm her chafed nerves.
“Aye, gets ye like that doesnae it?”
Caitlin opened her eyes with a start and turned to see that she was not alone on the balcony. An old man sat in a chair nearby, a blanket over his legs. He had thin white hair over a liver-spotted scalp and enough wrinkles that he could give Irene MacAskill a run for her money.
“Oh! Sorry!” Caitlin said. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
The old man waved a hand. “Ye didnae. My daughter thinks the sea air is good for me but I’ve been staring at this view for seventy years. After all that time it gets a wee bit boring.” The old man regarded her with shrewd blue eyes. “I dinna recognize ye, lass. Ye aren’t one of the serving staff, are ye?”
“Um, no,” Caitlin replied. “I’m a visitor, I arrived with Kai and the others.”
The old man’s eyes lit up. “Kai? Kai Stewart? He’s here?”
Caitlin nodded. “Yes. We arrived about an hour ago.”
The old man breathed out slowly. Almost under his breath he said, “I didnae think he’d ever come here again. Not after—” He shook himself and gave Caitlin a smile. “And who might ye be?”
“Caitlin,” she said. “Caitlin Summers. Pleased to meet you.”
“Not half as glad as I am to meet ye,” the old man said. “I’m glad young Kai has found himself a bonny lass. He deserves happiness. Ye are most welcome, my dear.”
“Oh no,” Caitlin blurted at the old man’s assumption. “It’s not like that. Kai and me are just—”
“Father!” came a voice from the corridor. “Have ye been sending the servants away again?”
There was the sound of footsteps and Lady Lorna herself stepped out onto the balcony. She was carrying a tray laden with crockery and she looked annoyed. She stopped dead when she spotted Caitlin.
“Oh. My apologies, I didnae realize ye were up here. Caitlin, isnae it?”
“It is. I just wanted to get some air. I didn’t mean to intrude where I shouldn’t.”
Lorna glanced at the old man. “Ye havenae. I hope ye’ve found my father in a pleasant mood?”
Father? So, this was Alasdair Douglas, the lord of this castle?
Lorna put the tray down on a small table at the side of her father’s chair and placed her hands on her hips, scowling at him. “Andrew tells me ye sent him away again and refused to eat yer soup.”
“Of course I refused to eat my bloody soup!” the old man growled. “It tastes like horse piss! I’m sure ye are trying to bloody poison me!”
“We arenottrying to poison ye,” Lorna said in a tone like steel. “We are trying to do our best by ye, which ye dinna make easy!”
The old man wagged a finger at her. “Yer best by me? Then bring me meat, girl! Juicy beef fresh off the bone.”
“The physician said—”
“I dinna give a pig’s fart what the physician said! I’m still the bloody lord of this castle, girl, and I’ll get my bloody way!”
From the way they spoke, Caitlin guessed this was an argument they’d had many times before. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment to see this exchange between father and daughter. She began carefully edging towards the door.
“Father,” Lorna said. “Eat yer soup or I willnae tell ye my news.”
