Warning at Eagle's Watch by Christine Bush Read Free Book Online

and touched her red hair. "And with that crop of red hair, Hillary, there's no doubt whom you'll remind her of. Best to lock your door at night!"
    They laughed then, and Hillary finally relaxed. They moved down the winding stairway and into the better light of the corridor below.
    "It was easy to find you, Hillary," Mitchell said as he turned off the lightswitch behind them. "You left quite a trail of lights."
    Hillary felt her face flush with color. How thoughtlessly she had wandered through almost every room of the castle, turning on lights along the way to dispel the gloom and chase the shadows from the corners, leaving them on behind her. Her cheeks turned red with embarrassment.
    But her dismay only made Mitchell laugh harder. "Yes, as I came around the last corner of the drive, I thought the place had finally gone up in flames. I must say I've never seen it so lit up before. But never fear, I followed behind you and dutifully turned them all off."
    They passed through the servants' wing, where the sounds of living could be heard, the tinny sound of a radio and quiet voices, as the Raymonds and Annie, the cook, settled in for their evening.
    They emerged at the top of the main stairway. The rest of the house stood silently. Only the rumble of the nearby waves beat rhythmically on the shoreline.
    "Well, thank you for saving my face by turning off the lights." Hillary offered at the door to her room. "I think I'd have rather died that go through this place again tonight."
    "Not too impressed, huh?"
    "Impressed is not the word. Overwhelmed, perhaps. It's so full of history and tradition from the past. But as a house, as a home—"
    "I know exactly what you mean," he said lightly. "You'd have to be slightly off your rocker to enjoy inhabiting a place like this. But I sure wouldn't mind inheriting the whole works." There was a twinkle in his eye. "And now I'll leave you, fair damsel of the castle, to get your beauty rest. Not that you need it, of course. Don't say anything to Aunt Priscilla about me being here ahead of schedule, okay? I want to stay on her good side, if it's possible to find one!"
    She didn't answer him, but he took her silence for agreement.
    "I'm glad you're here, Hillary," he said, looking deeply into her green eyes. "You have a lot of spunk. I knew as soon as Mrs. Raymond said you'd taken off to go through the castle at night, you must be one of the stouthearted ones, as they say."
    "Mrs. Raymond knew I'd gone through the castle?" Hillary asked in surprise. She'd seen no sign of the bristly little housekeeper in her wanderings.
    "Don't fool yourself, Hillary. You can get the impression that no one knows anything that is going on around this huge place, but it's rarely the truth. The walls have eyes, I think.
    "And so, for tonight, I'll say farewell, my lady. My room is right across the hall, in case you should need my help to slay a dragon or some other gallant deed during the night."
    He bowed with a flourish and kissed Hillary's hand, disappearing into the room across the hall with his laughing eyes and easygoing nature. And Hillary Holt felt very funny inside.
    * * *
    She climbed out of her uniform and got herself ready for bed in the attractive green room that was now hers. She climbed between the cool sheets of the huge bed and settled down for a much needed sleep. But it didn't come right away.
    The day had been a long and eventful one for her. To find a place such as Eagle's Watch after her day-long journey had been enough of a shock. To have met and appreciated the unbreakable spirit of Priscilla Scott was excitement in itself, set in the gloom and somehow mysterious aura that hovered over the huge stone place.
    But finally, her sudden reaction to the man who was Mitchell Morrison was a very unsettling experience. She put a hand up to her red hair, where he had touched it so casually in the far-off turret room. He had made her stomach light and flighty. And his kiss on her hand, a purely theatrical