Treasured by Candace Camp Read Free Book Online Page B

slightly. They stood gazing down at the center of the curve, the widest stretch of water, and before them, some distance from shore, was an island, thick with trees and shrubs. Trees lined the opposite shore, and nestled in them, he caught a glimpse of a cottage, almost completely hidden by the foliage. At the far end of the loch stood a magnificent house, at least three stories high and adorned with turrets and walls, layered down the side of a hill. At the opposite end of the loch, and much closer to them, rose jagged walls of stone, some tumbled down into piles of rubble.
    “What is that?”
    “Duncally?” Isobel opened her eyes and saw the direction in which he was looking. “Oh. That. The ruins?”
    “Yes.” Something magnificent and poignant about the destroyed building pulled at him.
    “That is the castle. The original Baillannan. That’s at the sea end, you see, and they needed a fortress to repel invaders. It was abandoned long ago, after the Vikings stopped coming,and they built a more pleasant house, easier to heat and farther back from the cold winds off the sea.”
    Jack’s mouth quirked at the notion of the cold gray-stone house being considered “more pleasant,” but he said only, “It looks as if the castle succumbed to the invaders. I am surprised they let it fall into such ruin.”
    “The English taxes on property were based on the number of roofs.” A mischievous smile flashed as she looked up at him. “So they took off the roof when they left a house.”
    “Ah, I see.”
    “Unfortunately, it makes them deteriorate more rapidly. And over the years, people have taken stones from it to build other things.”
    “It looks as if it might house a number of your ghosts and goblins.”
    She laughed. “There are ample stories of them, you can be sure.” Isobel pointed toward the imposing house at the other end of the loch. “That’s Duncally, the home of the Earls of Mardoun. They never live there, of course; they are in London or at their English estate. The Mardoun line ended in Susanna, the Countess of Mardoun in her own right. She married an English lord, so it’s her descendant who’s the earl now, and more English than Scots. The present earl and his lady came one summer several years ago, but we never met them. They were not especially interested in the local society.”
    “Ah, that sort. I have played cards with more than a few of them.” Jack grinned. “I generally win.”
    “I am sure you do.” She turned, pointing to a spot across the loch. “That bit of rock you can see there is the top of the troth stone. The circle is just beyond it, but you cannot see them from here. Duncally looks down on it.”
    “The circle?”
    “Yes. The standing stones.”
    “Like Stonehenge? There is the same sort of place here?”
    Isobel nodded. “It isn’t as large a circle, of course, and some of them are missing. The troth stone is smaller than the others and stands a bit apart. There is a hole in it all the way through the rock. A couple who wished to marry would go to the troth stone and stand on either side. Each would put a hand into the hole and clasp the other’s hand, and they would swear to their betrothal. Not many people do it anymore, only some of the families that still cling to the old ways. We can go see it one day if you like.”
    “It seems we have a great many sights left to see.” Jack grinned. “Perhaps we should take in that island in the loch, too. Does anyone live there?”
    “No one lives there. Now, if you want a number of ghosts, that is the place.”
    “Indeed. It looks a haunted spot.”
    “Laugh all you want, but there are many who swear they’ve seen lights dancing on the island in the dead of the moon and heard strange noises—clanking and sobs and moans.”
    “What is the story behind the noises? Jealousy? Murder?”
    “There is none I’ve ever heard. No one remembers anyone ever living there. Personally, I suspect it’s simply someone looking