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“Why not?” Augusta inquired, her eyes now wide with curiosity. Keir had often found that children possessed a sixth sense for things they were not meant to hear.
Mrs. Murray turned to look at them. “Why, dears, because ’tis haunted, of course.” She shook her head at them, as though they ought to have known.
Dorothea swallowed hard, her green eyes large and round and staring. “H-haunted?”
“What do you mean?” Augusta demanded to know, half-leaning on her breakfast in her eagerness to hear Mrs. Murray’s answer. “Are there ghosts there?”
Laughing, Mrs. Murray shook her head. “Ah, no, of course not. Ghosts rarely venture far from the livings’ side. They dunna care for wind and water but prefer a warm, dry castle.” With a weary sigh that betrayed her age for the first time since Keir’s return, Mrs. Murray seated herself at the table. Her gaze swept over the girls’ breakfast. “Will ye not eat up?”
Augusta glanced down at her plate and then back up at Mrs. Murray. “We want to hear the story.” She looked at Dorothea, who immediately nodded in agreement. “Please!”
Mrs. Murray sighed yet again. Still, Keir saw amusement spark in her eyes before she turned to the girls. “People are not to go there,” she began, leaning forward, her gaze fixed upon the girls, “because ’tis the place where the enormous sea serpent dwells in an underwater cave.” She looked at him pointedly and then nodded.
While Dorothea merely continued to stare at Mrs. Murray, Augusta’s jaw dropped. “Truly? We heard of the serpent. Auntie Sarah told us about it.” The touch of a frown came to her little face. “But she said it was a good serpent, one that protects the people of this island.”
Clearly impressed by the girl’s knowledge, Mrs. Murray nodded. “Indeed, it does. At least, that is what the legends say. However, there are also stories of those who dared disturb the serpent’s slumber… and were never heard from again.” The old woman’s brows rose pointedly. “It doesna take kindly to those who disturb its slumber.”
For a moment, Keir wondered how Katherine would react to seeing her daughters entertained by such gruesome stories. Surprisingly, though, the girls did not seem frightened at all. Quite on the contrary. More than anything, Dorothea, in particular, seemed most intrigued.
“Do ye truly mean it?” Dorothea inquired with an almost hopeful gaze, her words once again imitating a Scottish accent with ease.She seems to have a gift for languages.
Mrs. Murray nodded, the expression on her face absolutely serious. “Of course, I do. Sometimes on a bright, cloudless day, if ye stand in the right spot, ye can see scales glistening below the water’s surface.” She looked from Augusta to Dorothea. “I’ve seen them myself.”
Sounds of awe emerged from the girls’ mouths, and they stared with rapt attention at Mrs. Murray, as though she were some sort of magical creature herself.
Clearing his throat, Keir swallowed the last bite of his scone. “Well, I suppose we’d better be going.” He helped them to their feet, handed each one of them a scone for the walk, and then bustled them out of the kitchen as quickly as he could. On his way out, he looked back at Mrs. Murray. “Do ye truly think it wise to speak to the wee lassies of such things?” Again, Keir wondered what Katherine would say. On the other hand, he had spoken to Dorothea of the faerie dog, had he not? Perhaps not his wisest choice.
Mrs. Murray chuckled. “Since when do ye speak to me of being wise?” She shook her head at him, grinning. “Do ye not remember, lad, how much ye always loved the stories when ye were little? Will ye truly deny them the same excitement?” With a wave of her hand, Mrs. Murray sent them out of the castle and into the bright daylight. “Have a good day, and dunna come back too soon. Their mother could do with a bit of rest.”
Smiling, Keir hastened after the girls, who clearly did not believe they needed a guide. Their little legs carried them onward, their eyes fixed upon the sea ahead, meeting the horizon.
As Keir caught up to them, Dorothea lifted her chin, her green eyes looking into his. “Do ye believe in the sea serpent, Keir?”
Keir breathed in deeply, needing a moment to consider his words. “I dunna know. Still, in my experience, there are things that are not easily explained.” He shrugged, not wishing to destroy the hope he saw shining in her eyes. “I suppose anything is possible.”
A joyous smile came to Dorothea’s face at his words, and she directed her gaze back to the sea, her little legs picking up the pace to catch up with her sister.
Together, Loki alongside them, they walked along a well-trodden path that led from the castle down through the meadows, past the village and toward the beach. The girls chatted animatedly, pointing to every fluttering creature they spotted, stilling at every sound they could not make sense of. Keir smiled at their delight, their eagerness to discover this new place. He pointed out the village and the harbor farther below toward the other side of the path, and the girls stuck their heads together, counting houses and people alike.
“But we’re not going to the village right now, are we?” Augusta inquired with a pout. “We want to see the sea.”
Again, Dorothea nodded along enthusiastically.
“Dunna worry.” Keir lifted his head and pointed beyond the slope of a gentle hill ahead of them. “We’re almost there.”
As the girls quickened their pace, a shout suddenly rang out, and they all turned around to look.
From around a bend in the path, Eoghan and his daughter Bonnie emerged. Red-haired and green-eyed, the six-year-old girl looked like a dainty little fairy—especially compared to her father’s tall stature. Keir grinned.But a mischievous little fairy, he reminded himself.
“Keir!” Bonnie called, rushing up to meet them. “Father said ye brought visitors.” She pulled to a halt right in front of them, her wide green eyes going back and forth between Augusta and Dorothea. “Ye’re English, aren’t ye? Say something! Something English, please!”
Keir met Eoghan’s eyes, and both men suppressed a chuckle.
Dorothea looked up at her older sister and then directed her gaze at Bonnie. “What do ye want me to say?” she said in her imitation of a Scottish accent, and Keir almost broke out laughing.
With a confused frown upon her face, Bonnie turned around to look at her father. “But ye said they were English,” she addressed him chidingly before her arm whipped out and her forefinger pointed at Dorothea. “She doesna sound English. She sounds like us.”
Keir stepped forward, going down onto one knee beside Bonnie. “They are English,” Keir explained with a smile at the girls. “’Tis simply that Dorothea here has been practicing speaking like a Scot. Perhaps ye all can teach one another.”
