Free Laird of the Mist by Foery MacDonell Page A

as she stepped out onto the stone steps, shivering slightly in the mist that greeted her.
    Olivia sketched for a few minutes as she watched the sun rise over the loch. The cold began to permeate, and regretfully, she stepped back inside the door, bolting it as the sign requested. Not ready to go back to her room, she sank comfortably into an overstuffed wing chair and sketched a bit more.
    The silence was broken by a strange sound, as though someone was walking through the room. Light footsteps alerted her and she looked up from her pad.
Standing across the room was a tall man dressed in a Clan Donell kilt, matching hose, a plaid draped over his shoulder, and a dirk at his waist. He stared silently at her with a smug smile, his brown hair flowing down his collar.
―Who are you?‖ Olivia whispered to him.―Why have you come?‖
The apparition nodded to her in a courtly gesture and slowly faded away.
Olivia shook off the vision she had just witnessed and hastily began drawing him on her pad while she could still recall his features. Perhaps one of the castle staff would know who he was.
    ― Good morning, grandda.‖ Cat kissed her grandfather‘s cheek before sitting at the elegantly laid table.―Did you sleep well?‖
―Aye, Caitriona,‖ Hamish answered with an affectionate smile.―And a good day to ye too,‖ he greeted Carrick, who seated himself in one of the burgundy striped chairs. The dining room was warm and welcoming. Crisp, white tablecloths, Victorian wallpaper, and a fireplace gave the ambience of a home.
―A fine view of the loch.‖ Carrick nodded toward the windows.―A verra comfortable manse, this,‖ he commented, sipping the strong coffee that had been poured for him.
―I thought no one would ever get up!‖ Olivia plopped into her chair and grabbed a scone.―I‘m starving.‖
―How long have you been awake?‖ Cat asked, hiding a yawn behind her hand.
―I got up to watch the sunrise.‖ She laid her sketch pad on the table and poured herself some tea.―You won‘t believe what I saw.‖
―What did ye see?‖ Carrick asked, since Hamish and Cat were busy with their toast.
―Well…‖ Olivia was clearly excited.―I was sitting alone in the foyer, and all of a sudden, a ghost appeared. Honest, I‘m not kidding,‖ she said to Cat, who was giving her a skeptical look from across the table.
―Okay, Olivia,‖ Cat patronized her.―If you say so.‖
―Hey, I even drew him,‖ Olivia protested, opening her sketchbook to the drawing.―See for yourself.‖ She handed the portrait to Cat.
―Nice drawing,‖ Cat said, examining it closely.―No one I recognize.‖ She handed the pad to Carrick. ―Anyone you know?‘ she said, half joking.
Carrick took the pad and studied the drawing intently.―Aye,‖ he said finally.―I know him. He‘s my cousin John.‖
―You‘re serious?‖ Cat was taken aback.―You mean John MacDonell, Chief of Glengarry from your time?‖
―Oh, aye,‖ Carrick nodded, still looking at the drawing.―Ye should remember him, Cat.‖
―I only met him a few times, and my memories are still coming back slowly.‖ She looked over at the drawing again.―He‘s the one who let his first wife starve to death, isn‘t he?‖
―He did? Wow! This is great!‖ Olivia was beaming.―I really did see a ghost.‖
―Of course ye did.‖ Hamish squeezed her hand.―The place is full of them.‖
―And a right fair image of him, too, Olivia,‖ Carrick complimented her. ―Ye have him dead on. I wonder why he appeared to ye as he did.‖
―Thanks, Carrick.‖ She grinned, retrieving the pad. ―It was quite an experience. But he just kind of glowered at me. Didn‘t feel like talking, I guess.‖
―And you talk too much,‖ Cat teased her. ―He probably couldn‘t get a word in.‖
Everyone laughed at that, enjoying the companionable breakfast.
―Olivia‘s artistic skill reminds me.‖ Hamish grew serious. ―Ye have yer birth certificate, Carrick? The priest will need it this