you. I’ll take you to your rooms.” She led the way up the stairs, while James looked around, bewildered.
At the top landing, Angus MacKimmie met them, having left the satchel. “So you’ve brought out our ban-sìth , then.”
“An entertaining idea, though it sounds like hinges or floorboards in need of repair,” James said. The upper corridor, a wide hallway, turned a corner at the far end, with several closed doors along its cream-colored walls, hung with a few paintings. A worn Oriental carpet ran the length of the hall, with a few items of furniture—a table here, a bench there. He had visited his grandparents here only occasionally for his guardian, Lady Rankin, felt that children should be schooled and kept busy, and not running about like Highland savages. “It’s a very nice house,” he ventured.
“And without squeaking hinges,” Angus said. “Naught needs repair here, sir. I am your factor, caretaker, head groomsman and coachman, and your ghillie, too, do you want to go hunting or fishing. Come find me for all of it.”
“I will, thank you. Struan House is quite impressive,” James said. “A banshee is an old ghostly hag that prophesies death and disaster, is it not?”
“Aye, some are,” Mary MacKimmie replied this time. “The Struan banshee is the sort that belongs to a house and a family. A fairy spirit who makes herself known over deaths, births, anything of importance for the estate or family. Now that she’s marked the arrival of the laird, she will be silent.” She smiled. “Unless something else of importance happens, for instance, should you marry, sir.”
“I see. A sort of weather glass for the family,” James said. “I thought fairies were pleasant, harmless little sorts. Small wings, sitting on flowers, and so on.”
“There are many different kinds of fairies in theHighlands, and elsewhere. You will learn more when you read Lady Struan’s pages, I expect,” she answered.
Angus departed down the stairs, and the housekeeper led James to the laird’s rooms, which included bedroom, sitting room, dressing room, and bathing room. He walked past the large, carved bed with its embroidered hangings to look at the view from the windows of mountain crests against a vast, rainy sky.
“Excellent,” he pronounced, turning around.
“You’ll want to explore the rest of the house, of course. Downstairs is a library and the study where Lady Struan worked. The parlor is on that level, too, along with the dining room. Kitchens are below stairs, and lead out to the back gardens. Normally supper is at half-five, unless you request otherwise.” Mrs. MacKimmie turned toward the door. “I’ll set tea in the parlor in twenty minutes, as it’s past luncheon now.”
“Thank you. Mrs. MacKimmie, I’m expecting guests from Edinburgh in a fortnight or so. They plan a Highland tour, and will stay at Struan for a few days.” And as soon as Lady Rankin and the others, including his siblings, were gone, he intended to finish Grandmother’s manuscript and return to Edinburgh to resume his teaching.
“I’ll ready the house for your guests.” She paused at the door. “Sir, there is something you should know. Just now, we’ve very little staff. Only myself and Angus, with a groom and two housemaids, local girls. Last week two girls arrived by post chaise from Edinburgh, sent here by Lady Rankin.” She stiffened a little.
“Ah. She means only to be helpful to me.” James had assured Lady Rankin that the Highland staff wouldbe capable, but his great-aunt did not trust Highland servants to keep a house the way she would prefer it kept, even if it was not her home. “I hope that is sufficient staff for Struan House.” He had no idea.
“Normally, aye, but…well, ’tis near time for the fairy riding. It’s a local tradition,” she explained. “The fairies go riding this time of year. They ride over the lands of Struan, because legend says these lands once belonged to
Learning to Kill: Stories