"It's so big!" Belle exclaimed as she tried to twist her neck and stare up at the walls. "The castle is very tall."
"These are the encircling walls, not the castle," Munro corrected her. "The walls surround the estate and protect it from attack, but the castle itself is much taller. Some five stories, if I remember the plans correctly."
"Plans?" Belle glanced back at the man, who was once more just a shadow against the padded seat of the carriage.
"The architectural plans that detail the design of the building."
"Ye've not seen the castle yerself?"
"No."
There had been a moment of quiet before the admittance. Belle had a strong suspicion that Mr. Henry Munro did not enjoy ignorance. She, on the other hand, was pleased with his confession and was smiling as she bounced a little in her seat.
"Then we shall be both new to the castle! Ah'll not be the only visitor." Briefly, Belle wondered if the warm sense of camaraderie that was tingling in her chest was felt by Henry also, but she was soon distracted when the horses rode the carriage beyond the main gates and then through the thick walls of stone. Suddenly plunged into total darkness, Belle squeaked in surprise.
She jumped again when a warm touch brushed the back of her hand.
"Shh," Munro comforted. "It is alright."
Mollified by this moment of care, Belle felt her cheeks flame red and quickly brushed at her face, trying to bat the blush away.
By the time they were carried out from beneath the walls and into the moonlight again, she was sure her cheeks were all the pinker.
It took the carriage just a few moments to carry on down the path between an open stretch of green lawn and another of bedded flowers. Belle caught sight of the moon reflecting over a silver fountain, and a large and imposing courtyard turned a soft, dove grey.
This last leg of the journey was carried out in silence, but Belle felt sure that her escort was watching her. The heat of his stare made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, and a shiver fluttered over the skin.
By the time graveled stone was crunching beneath the wheels of the carriage and the horses were drawn to a gentle halt, Belle felt so under scrutiny that she jumped free of the vehicle before the driver could open the door. Simply pushing it open herself, she ignored the noise of protestation behind her and jumped to the ground. A frustrated exhale sounded behind her, and then Henry was there, his presence suddenly warm and close.
"You should wait for the driver before disembarking," he explained.
Belle ignored him.
He could correct her behavior all he wished to, but she would not be staying long enough for his lessons to matter.
When the driver and footman hopped down from the front of the carriage and reached inside to fetch her few belongings, Belle opened her mouth to protest, but Munro beat her to it.
"They will simply deliver your things to a private room that you might wish to use before returning home," he assured her. "They will go nowhere else. You have my word."
Even as a stranger, his word was enough to calm Belle. As peculiar as that was, she was not the sort to question her instincts.
Belle's gaze shifted up and over the castle's front facade. She gasped and instinctively took a step back.
Never before had she witnessed a building that held such life!
It towered above her like a looming monster in the dark, encroaching upon the sky and dominating her entire vision. It seemed dangerously alive. As if it were defending its land against her invasion and stubbornly refusing to move, it occupied its space with a stony determination. Every twisting shadow was evidence of fine stonework. The edges of its craftsmanship caught the moonlight, refusing to be entirely hidden, even in the twilight. Windows gaped as black holes that seemed to expel darkness more than contain it. The rooms beyond were lost from view, masked in ebony. It was as if the shadows were barring her from entry. Only a few of the open ports blazed with a flickering orange, but there was no warmth of welcome. They were simply hot eyes that burned down upon her.
Forced back a step by the very power emitted from the building, a touch found the back of Belle's arm. She glanced around at Henry, but his eyes were trained upon the front door. His lips were thin, and his jaw tight. She followed his gaze.
A woman now awaited them at the threshold of the estate.
Her diminished height did nothing to alleviate the woman's aura of power. She stood upon the step of the castle's front door with all the assurance of a queen, straight-backed and proud. Her chin was raised, her hands calmly left folded before her. Her gown was such fine fabric and so strongly dyed that, even in the darkness, Belle could tell that it was a deep and vibrant red. Her dark hair was coiled into a braided crown atop her head. Her face was mostly shadow but the edges of her facade were carefully outlined by the glow of firelight from within the castle.
She was a beautiful lady, gilded in the warmth of privilege.
This could only be the laird’s wife.
Munro's manner of greeting only confirmed the worry in Belle's stomach when he bowed with distinction and respect.
