MacGregor Castle featured in several chapters. The place seemed to swirl with tales, many of which directly contradicted the others.
Tabby had told Daisy just a week ago that time travelers had been recorded arriving in MacGregor castle back in the Middle Ages. That had been a funny one. Who could possibly believe that?
Answer - her housemate. She believed them all. Not Daisy, she had more sense. Time travel was something anyone might wish were possible. That didn’t make it real.
There were other tales of druids and ghosts and all sorts of weird nonsense taking place over the centuries to Clan MacGregor and the castle.
Daisy didn’t believe a word of any of it. Which goes to show how wrong a person can be.
The journey north was a pretty one, the rolling hills becoming jagged tree strewn mountains, streams becoming rivers, and rivers becoming deep blue lochs, their azure depths reflecting the cloudless skies of high summer.
With ten minutes to go, Daisy turned off the main road and headed along a narrow track that curved slowly upward as it ascended a mountainside, the car groaning in low gear to keep going.
Finally, just as she thought the engine was about to overheat, the road opened out to reveal a vista of the distant mountains across the wide valley.
She took another turn and there it was, the road ending so abruptly she almost overshot the parking lot and drove into the gatehouse.
Skidding to a halt, she slung the steering wheel to the left and then drove onto the gravel covered lot before killing the engine. She sat for a moment, looking up at the enormous castle.
It was like something out of a Gothic ghost story, huge dark gray stone running up so far she had to crane her neck to see the top.
Crows circled the top. The gatehouse stuck out from the base of the wall like a boil, above it tiny arrow slit windows the only sign of decoration.
The corner towers were still standing and in one of them a light flickered. Other than that the place looked deserted.
“Someone better be here,” Daisy said as she got out of the car and carried the box across to the gatehouse, the car engine ticking over behind her.
The squat front door was closed so she knocked and waited before noticing a Victorian bellpull to her right. Tugging it resulted in a sonorous boom echoing somewhere far inside.
While she waited, she again looked up at the walls directly above her, trying to decide if any of Tabitha’s stories might be true. It certainly looked like the place might hide a ghost or two.
In the quiet, she could have sworn she heard the sound of swords clashing somewhere in the distance. A trick of the wind no doubt.
She jumped when the door creaked open, taking an involuntary step back as a wizened face peered out, eyes half hidden behind lank white hair.
“Yes?” the man said, peering suspiciously at her. “What do you want? We dinnae want tinkers here nor knife sharpeners. Off you go before I set the dogs on you.”
“I’ve a parcel here for Jock MacGregor. Is that you?”
The man snorted. “I am custodian for the laird.”
“Oh, right. Well, could you sign this?” She held out the form Tabitha had given her.
“Whit’s that in yer hand? Show me that box noo.”
The man reached out with claw like fingers and she passed it to him. He looked surprised for a brief moment, his eyes widening but then his face was as suspicious as before.
“You carry this up tae the laird. Go through the open door in the courtyard and if you are who you appear, you will find him in the top room. Be sure to knock.”
She thought about what Tabby had said about the laird. Rude, aggressive, best avoided. “It’s all right, I’ll just leave it with you. You can take it up to him that way.”
The man shoved the box back into her hand. “Through there and take the open door. I willnae help you.”
“All the same,” she began as he ducked back inside, leaving her standing there talking to thin air. “If you-”
She closed her mouth. It was pointless. He was gone. Leaning inside, she called out but there was no response.
She looked back at the car. Should she just go? Make Tabby to take the hit on her pay?
