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Again, the girls nodded, clearly awestruck at the thought that Mrs. Murray would dare chide a ghost.
Stunned speechless herself, Sarah saw tears brim in her sister’s eyes as Kate turned to smile at her. “I love that woman,” she murmured under her breath. “She’s… She’s like…”
“Grandma Edie,” Sarah finished for her sister. “Not from this world.”
Kate chuckled, then bounced a little on her feet to soothe little Frederica, who did not seem as entertained by Mrs. Murray’s ghost stories as her sisters were.
For the first time since setting foot upon the island of the MacKinnears, Sarah felt her heart grow lighter. She was surprised that it happened in this moment, one that seemed rather insignificant. Yet Mrs. Murray’s ways spoke to Sarah. While the woman had seemed cold and unfeeling before, with a few short words, she had now revealed herself to be a most caring person. She certainly had her ways, only revealing to those who knew her well what lived in her heart. It was a moment that once again proved to Sarah that first impressions could be terribly misleading.
Indeed, thus far, Keir’s family had been incredibly welcoming and kind. They were rather direct, quite like him, but Sarah cherished Keir’s honest way. Clearly, to him, it was a normal way of communicating, for he had learned it here in this place he called home.
Turning back down the corridor, Mrs. Murray gestured toward two doors on the right. “One is for ye,” she explained to Sarah, not bothering to pause in her steps, “and the other is for yer sister and her wee ones.” Outside Kate’s door, Mrs. Murray suddenly did stop. She all but spun around and then fixed Kate with a rather stern expression. “Ye dunna mind sharing a chamber with yer wee ones, do ye?” Her brows drew together a bit more, almost connecting above the bridge of her nose. “I’ve heard it said that English ladies often have others care for their children.”
Sarah could tell easily from the look upon Mrs. Murray’s face that she disapproved of said English ladies and that there was clearly only one right answer to her question.
Kate beamed at Mrs. Murray. “I would never part with my children, not for all the gold in the world.” Tears stood in her eyes as she hugged Frederica tighter against her chest, and Sarah understood how deeply the MacKinnears’ sense of family and belonging touched Kate. Indeed, it stood in stark contrast to the way her husband’s family, the Dunleys, approached life.
At Kate’s emotional assurance, the ghost of a smile flickered across Mrs. Murray’s face, and Sarah knew her sister had just won herself an ally. “Come on, then.” Mrs. Murray waved them onward, unlocking the door to Kate’s chamber and then handing her the key. “This is it. Come, have a look.”
A large bed—larger than any Sarah had ever seen—stood at the back wall opposite the fireplace, its flames casting shadows across the chamber. Three windows faced the east, with a comfortable chaise beneath it. An old wooden chest stood in the corner, its lid not quite closed, revealing glimpses of wooden toy horses and straw dolls. “These used to belong to the lads and the Lady Yvaine,” Mrs. Murray explained, nodding toward the chest, a touch of sadness in her eyes now. “I hope yer wee ones will enjoy them.”
Clearly touched beyond words, Kate clasped Mrs. Murray’s hand. “Thank you, dear Mrs. Murray. You cannot know what this means to us.”
Mrs. Murray gave a short nod, then quickly turned away, but not before Sarah saw her eyes soften. “I’ll send a lass to help ye with the children and to bring ye some supper.” She gestured for Sarah to follow her as Augusta and Dorothea settled upon the rug in front of the fireplace, eagerly digging into the toy chest. “Good night.” Then she closed the door and headed a few more steps down the hall, Sarah following upon her heels.
“Yer chamber’s right here.” Mrs. Murray had just reached the next door when she suddenly paused. “Where did ye come from?”
Frowning, Sarah stepped sideways to look past Mrs. Murray and was surprised and overjoyed to see Loki sitting in the middle of the hallway. His amber eyes glowed brightly in the shine from Mrs. Murray’s candle, and he angled his head as though he wished to offer a polite greeting. Sarah chuckled. “That is Loki,” she explained as Mrs. Murray looked to her for an explanation. “He has a tendency to come and go as he pleases.”
Mrs. Murray regarded Loki for another moment, then gave a quick nod. “He’s got the look of a guard about him, doesna he?” She raised one eyebrow, clearly intrigued, then once more looked at Sarah. “Does he stay with ye?”
Sarah nodded. “If it’s no trouble.” She remembered only too well how Lord Birchwell, Kate’s husband, as well as his staff, had reacted to Loki’s presence.
Mrs. Murray looked almost aghast. “No, dear. Why would that be any trouble?” She turned and unlocked Sarah’s door, handing her the key. Then she pushed it open and walked inside.
The moment Sarah stepped across the threshold, she was drawn to the beautiful bay windows, allowing a view of the sea to the east and a glimpse of the land farther south. Darkness was falling, and the moon’s faint silhouette glittered upon the waves. “It’s beautiful,” Sarah whispered, completely entranced.
“Aye, it is,” Mrs. Murray agreed, something wistful in her voice, and as Sarah turned, she saw a rather faraway expression in the old woman’s eyes. “’Tis almost magical, is it not?” A deep sigh left her lips, then she blinked, and her gaze refocused upon Sarah.
Wondering if she might be overstepping, Sarah approached Mrs. Murray, meeting her eyes openly. “How long has Lady Yvaine been missing?”
A startled expression came to Mrs. Murray’s face. “Oh, ye know what happened, then?” Sarah nodded, not bothering to offer more of an explanation. “Well, ’tis been three years.” The old woman sighed again. “Three long years.”
Sarah reached out and grasped her hand. “I’m so sorry. I cannot imagine losing a loved one like that.”
Mrs. Murray nodded, making it clear that the old housekeeper mourned Yvaine’s loss as much as her family did. Indeed, here, in this place, family had nothing to do with bloodlines and reputation. No, the meaning of family went far deeper to the core of human nature, to that place deep inside that made people who they were.
“And no clues were ever found about what might’ve happened to her?” Sarah inquired, unable not to. More than once she had been tempted to put these questions to Keir, and yet she dreaded seeing that look of sadness returned to his eyes.
Mrs. Murray shook her head. “Yet is that not a clue in itself?” She straightened, her brows rising meaningfully. “If ye ask me, lass, ’twas the fairies that took her back home. Aye, she was never quite of this world, was she? Ye could tell by looking into her eyes.” Mrs. Murray smiled at her then, gently patting Sarah’s hand. “Ye’re a fine lass, and I’m glad the lad brought ye home. Sleep ye well then.” And with that, Mrs. Murray turned and left.
For the longest time, Sarah simply stood in the middle of the chamber and breathed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Loki settle by the fireplace, stretching and yawning and finally closing his eyes. Sarah, though, did not feel tired. Not any longer. Somehow, every fiber of her being pulsed with energy, chasing away every bit of exhaustion she had felt before. Her feet moved across the chamber and toward the windows, her eyes seeking the land and sea below. Indeed, this was a magical place, made so by its people. Always had Keir spoken to her of his family’s kindness, of their way of life, of their way of looking at life. Yet Sarah had never quite managed to believe him, not completely. Now, she stood here in his home, and Sarah finally realized what he had meant…
… and that people like his family truly existed.
Whatever questions they might be asking of Keir in this very moment, Sarah no longer feared Keir’s honesty. Thetonmight have abandoned her but perhaps with a little bit of hope…
… and kindness…
