Legend Of The Highland Dragon by Isabel Cooper Read Free Book Online Page B

in a strange mansion, she would have dismissed the whole affair as a dream and cautioned herself against whatever she’d had for supper.
    The thought of supper brought on an immediate and most worldly hunger. She washed and dressed in a hurry, though she was careful to look respectable, coiling her hair tightly back and pinning her collar very straight. Word got around quickly; Polly wouldn’t be the only one with questions.
    Mina soon found that she was right about that. She’d risen early enough to find the servants still at breakfast, and all of them—four maids, a butler, a groom, and a gray-haired couple who were probably the valet and housekeeper Alice had mentioned—turned to look when she entered the room.
    The older woman got to her feet. “You’d be his lordship’s new secretary, then,” she said in a much broader Scottish accent than MacAlasdair’s. “I’m Mrs. Baldwin, the housekeeper here. You’ve met Polly. That’s Lizzie next to her and Sarah, and the wee one next to her is Emily, and James and Owens and Mr. Baldwin on the other side. And Mrs. Hennings upstairs, poor woman, and that’s all of us under this roof.” She smiled and spoke readily. It could have been friendliness; it could have been duty.
    Mina gave the most polished smile she could manage in return. “Miss Seymour,” she said. “Good morning.”
    “Good morning,” said Emily, who was “wee” indeed—no more than fifteen, by the look of her—and thus probably from the scullery. The others produced a variety of nods and smiles, pleasant and careful and distant.
    “Have yourself a seat and a bit of a breakfast,” said Mrs. Baldwin, “and then his lordship will see you in the drawing room. Polly will show you how to get there.”
    Breakfast was porridge, bacon, eggs, and scones, as well as very strong hot tea. It was also largely silent. Mrs. Baldwin observed that the weather was likely to be fine, James mentioned needing to have the blacksmith in one of these days, and Mina asked if the Baldwins had come up from Scotland with Lord MacAlasdair. Yes, they had; no, the trip hadn’t been very difficult. That was nice.
    Mina wanted to ask about Scotland, about how long the train journey had taken and what it had been like, about Lord MacAlasdair’s horses and how the maids were finding the house. Miss Seymour, who had to keep the distance becoming to his lordship’s secretary, sipped her tea, made polite inquiries about Mrs. Hennings’s health—she was recovering nicely, it was really a bit of bad luck for her to have slipped on the staircase as she’d done, and clearly the story about the robbers hadn’t gotten out—and excused herself as soon as she’d eaten sufficient food to see her through the next few hours.
    MacAlasdair’s house was rather handsome, now that she saw it in the daytime and without supernatural pursuit. However, it was still a rather intimidating place. The walls were mostly dark, with plenty of mirrors and gilded picture frames, and the furniture tended to be dark as well, not to mention rather massive.
    Portraits were abundant. Mina saw an icily blonde woman with a ruff and a lapdog, a pair of bright-eyed children posed in front of a bay window, and a succession of men who looked more or less like MacAlasdair in clothing of various decades and centuries. She didn’t think they were all MacAlasdair himself—he hadn’t owned the house for very long, and scattering such pictures around the place would have been arrogant even for him—but, combined with the knowledge of his longevity, they still gave her a chill.
    She lagged a little behind Polly as she walked, looking around, and so she gave a little start when the other woman said her name.
    “Yes?” she asked.
    “Come in,” said MacAlasdair, from the room beyond an open door, and embarrassment swept over Mina. The maid had been announcing her. She should have known, and now she looked like a complete fool.
    She drew a deep breath and