Sign of the Throne: Book One in the Solas Beir Trilogy by Melissa Eskue Ousley Read Free Book Online

according to Ciaran) and spent a great deal of time improving Abby’s drawings with these. Together they explored the great Victorian’s maze of rooms and passages, pretending they were on safari in distant lands.
    Abby was enamored with Cassandra and romanticized her role as a professor. She admired Cassandra’s unconventional approach to the world, and thought she was brilliant, beautiful, witty, and sophisticated. She learned something new with every interaction: theories about abnormal psychology, myths about statistics, insider tips for applying to college, and how to dress for various social gatherings.
    She even adored the quirkiness of Cassandra’s husband. Riordan Buchan was a self-confessed obsessive admirer of all things Gaelic. He was madly in love with the British Isles, tracing his ancestral roots to Ireland and Scotland. Early in their marriage, he had whisked Cassandra off to stay in a castle turned bed-and-breakfast in the highlands of Scotland. He had written several books pertaining to the history and folklore of the country, and taught evening courses in history at the University of Santa Linda. It was not uncommon to find him wearing a kilt, sitting at a desk avalanched by books, and muttering to himself as he scribbled in a leather-bound journal.
    Lying on his desk was a silver-plated, dagger-shaped letter opener that bore the family crest. It was little more than a Scottish novelty item, but the Buchan clan motto was inscribed on the hilt — Non inferiora secutus —“not having followed the inferior.” It was a philosophy he took to heart as he diligently pursued his interests. Abby could see where the children got their insatiable thirst for knowledge.
    The only dark cloud appeared when Riordan introduced Abby to his aunt. Aunt Moira was not terribly gracious about the introduction of a babysitter to the household, and Abby was convinced the woman despised her.
    The trouble started one afternoon when Abby and the children were playing in the dining room. Cassandra was teaching at the university, and Riordan was editing his latest book, so he’d sequestered himself in his office. Abby had taken the children downstairs to give him a quiet space to work. She borrowed the quilt from Ciaran’s bed and draped it over the dining table, transforming it into a fort. She was inside it with the kids when she heard someone knocking on the top of the table.
    Abby crawled out to find Moira standing there, looking none too pleased. She held her arms crossed over her thin frame, and her long, white hair had been pinned up in a tight bun, pulling the skin around her dark eyes tight, making her features seem more harsh than usual. “Is it really necessary that they play down here?” the old woman asked.
    “Oh—are we disturbing you?” Abby asked.
    “I would say so. They are quite loud,” Moira said, narrowing her eyes. “I can hear them from my room.”
    Abby looked back into the fort. The kids were chattering quite a bit, and the youngest two were pushing the chairs across the floor to make the fort bigger. “I’m sorry,” Abby said. “We’ll play upstairs.”
    Moira nodded and, without another word, returned to her room. Abby watched her go, shocked at what had just happened. It took her a moment to gather her thoughts.
    “All right guys. Let’s take the fort to Ciaran’s room, okay?” She folded the quilt and returned the chairs to their proper places. Then she scooped up the quilt and the children’s toys and carried them upstairs. Ciaran followed with his brother and sister in tow.
    A half hour later, the kids were happily playing in the reconstructed fort when Abby heard a knock on the doorframe of Ciaran’s room. Not again, she thought. She crawled out of the fort, surprised to find Riordan standing in the doorway.
    “How’s it going?” he asked.
    “Good,” Abby replied. “We’re not bothering you, are we?”
    “Oh no,” Riordan said. “Sounds like you’re having a lot of