Page 69 of The Lady of Her Highland Clan

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Clyde's words burned inside of Fiona all through the night. Tossing and turning, she barely slept.

The chamber that Fraser had put her in was large but cold. The distinct chill of autumn had arrived in the Highlands, despite being only August.

Glancing around in the half-light, Fiona surveyed the Greenock castle decay. Its faded splendor was quite sad to see. Certainly, the chamber she was in had seen better days. But still, its grandeur was there in faint notes.

The carving of the wooden bedstead, still fine and ornate, had stood the test of time, as had the beautiful tapestry on the wall opposite. But, sadly, the same could not be said of the rest of it.

A dramatic cobweb hung in the doorway, almost ensnaring Fiona as she went out of it. A tense spider scurried to the end of the doorframe as she passed through, nearly landing on her head.

But Fiona was not looking at the spider. Her eyes were on the landscape ahead, narrowly visible through the slight windows. There, on the very edges of the horizon, were the borders of the Anderson lands.

Fiona did not have much of a plan, but her intentions were to ride there as fast as she could. And before Fraser could stop her.

That meant getting out of the castle without seeing him. So, stealthily, she crept down along the creaking corridors of Greenock Castle. And creak they did!

Every footstep seemed to make a sound, squeaking and echoing along the old ancient walls. And every step caused her to hesitate, holding her breath and listening out for another sound.

And there was always another sound. Despite the Greenock castle being mainly empty, sound was everywhere. Fiona, who had thought she was used to this from the Duncan castle, trembled in waiting.

She was trapped outside the bedchamber doors. There was no telling which of these rooms were occupied or where Fraser might be sleeping. The last thing she wanted to do was to be heard. But just as she was passing along the main bedchamber, a door opened.

Fiona froze; her heart almost stopped beating. In that instant, she thought it was all over, that the new Greenock laird would burst out of one of the bedchambers, and God knew what would happen.

In her mind, she quickly tried to concoct a story, something to say she was doing. After all, she hadn't gone anywhere yet. But instead, she just froze, shrinking into the shadows as the door creaked open.

Of course, she could not hide. It seemed to take forever for the heavy oak bedchamber to fully open. But once it did, there was no avoiding the person standing there. As much as she wished she could, Fiona had nowhere to turn.

A long, stopped shadow fell over. Fiona felt her heart turn cold. Then she looked up. An unexpected face looked back at her.

It was Patterson, the servant.

"Miss!" he gasped.

Fiona immediately looked panicked. Seeing her face, Patterson must have guessed and continued in a low voice.

Taking her aside, he led her gently from the doorway and further down the hall.

"Do ye need some assistance, miss?" asked the elderly servant.

Fiona shook her head, but her face said yes.

Nervously, she glanced in the direction of the main bedchamber. Of course, she did not know for sure that was where Fraser was, but it was a good guess. Watching her, Patterson nodded.

"Dinnae fash miss. Sir sleeps late. He will nae be up for some time yet." His aged eyes peered into hers inquiringly. "Is there something ye wanted?"

"I..." began Fiona. She bit her lip. She so desperately wanted to tell him. And remembering his offer to help her, it felt right. Looking into the old man's eyes, it felt as if she could trust him, but she knew she should not.

As they walked down the hall, the elderly servant became bolder. "He's a wealthy man," he remarked.

Surprised, Fiona looked around. Having caught her eye, Patterson continued.

"Aye," said the stooped servant. They were passing along the hallway, the sun rising slowly now, sending vague promises of daylight on the horizon. "Really vera rich, more than he lets on, if ye ken what I mean..."

Patterson looked over his shoulder, leaving Fiona in no doubt that this conversation was not meant to be overheard. Having passed through the corridor, now they were out at the stairhead.

"Ye see, miss, there's plenty the young sir has taken, from, well, places that werenae his tae take." His eyes arched conspiratorially.