He may have given in on one of the nights they were meant to be away, but Ewan held firm to his demand that they leave Strathmore Castle just after dawn.
It was early when he dragged a sleepy-eyed Caroline out into the bailey. She was wrapped in her thick woolen cloak and muttering something under her breath as she made her way across to the cart. It sounded very much like“I had a nice warm bed, and you made me leave it.”
Ewan ignored the sly grin on his steward’s face. He had grown up in the castle alongside the young Master Crowdie, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to give the steward anything to take home to his wife for them to have a good laugh over.
Caroline was still grumbling as Ewan helped her up onto the front bench of the sturdy wooden cart. The road which ran along one side of Strathmore Mountain was barely above a roughly hewn track. No fancy carriages or coaches would make it up to the Key and survive.
He climbed on board and took the seat beside Caroline, accepting the reins from a castle footman. After reaching into his coat pocket, Ewan retrieved a hip flask and handed it to his wife. “Here, have a wee dram of whisky. That should help keep you warm.”
And hopefully it will make you less grumpy.
Caroline accepted the flask with a gruff, “A hot breakfast would have been better.”
There were some people in the world who were early birds. Lady Caroline Radley wasn’t one of them.
“The kitchens have packed fresh bread and vittles. I promise you will not expire from starvation, your grace,” he said.
She gave him a sly side-eye, then sipped the whisky. Ewan held his hand out to take the flask back, but after Caroline took a second drink, she clutched it firmly to her breast. The message was clear: he wouldn’t be getting it back anytime soon.
“Just go easy on the single malt. I want you to be sober when we arrive at the hunting lodge,” he said.
They had enjoyed their fair share of drunken sex over the years, but with age, it became harder to reach the end before one or both of them passed out.
“I will be the judge of when I am sober thank you very much, Lord Strathmore,” she said. She lifted the flask once more but stopped before it reached her lips. “Perhaps some food would be better for a clear head.”
Ewan gave the reins a flick and the cart lurched forward. A quick trip over the castle drawbridge and they were on their way.
The snow was late this year, and the road leading up to the Key was still passable. But as with all Scottish weather, there was always the chance that it could suddenly take a turn for the worse. When the snow finally did arrive, no one would be venturing up this way until the great thaw of spring.
Caroline reached behind her, dragging a heavy tartan blanket over from the bed of the cart. She settled it across both their laps, humming her approval when Ewan tucked it around his lower legs, covering them.
He glanced at her, smiling at the sight of her pink, whisky-flushed cheeks.
You might be grouchy first thing in the morning, but you are always looking after me. And you are as beautiful today as you were on the wonderful day that I made you, my bride.
As the cart turned toward the mountain, the first rays of sunshine cracked over the top of the peak. The pale gray sky shifted to a light blue. Clear skies were a good sign that they would miss the snow.
“It truly is a magnificent place,” said Caroline.
Ewan nodded. He may have been born and raised here, but the sight of the dawn’s early light over Strathmore Mountain never failed to take his breath away. He was humbled by it. Grateful that he was custodian of this land and its people.
“That it is, my love.”
ChapterNine
The Key was a special place for Caroline. She could still remember the first time Ewan had brought her up from the castle and they had passed into the narrow deep cutting which led from the side of the mountain through to the hunting lodge. The tall walls of mud and rock which rose up on either side magically silenced the ever-present wind, creating an almost ethereal atmosphere.
It was rare for them to venture up to this part of Strathmore Mountain outside of the warmer months, but she sensed Ewan’s need for them to get away from everyone. A need which Caroline accepted that she too felt.
“One of the castle servants came up here late yesterday and prepared the fireplace. It will be banked, burning low, and ready for me to add some more wood to it as soon as we arrive,” said Ewan.
We will be warm inside. Lovely.
Finally, the walls of the narrow, high pass parted, and they came out into what felt like another world. The high walls of the pass continued around, forming a ringed wall a quarter mile or so across.
Over to the right side of the Key was the deep lake. It was the place where every Radley child, like it or not, had learned to swim. The water was dark and cold. Even at the height of summer, it never rose to anything resembling tepid. Swimming lessons were usually short, followed by an afternoon of warm blankets and hot chocolate.
The road passed around to the left, and Ewan pulled the horse and cart up as they reached the stone hunting lodge.
