Free The Seal King Murders by Alanna Knight Page B

barrier where men – and money – are concerned.’ Then with a laugh, pointing at the sea, ‘I do wish he would appear – I’d love to see him. I wonder, does he wear a crown?’
    It was Mary Faro who appeared, bustling breathless along the sands but remembering a curtsey.
    ‘Well, Faro, anything important? What is it?’ demanded Celia somewhat impatiently.
    Faro looked at her sharply and frowning, having to remember that this was not intended for him, the surname was how servants were addressed by their masters.
    ‘Nothing, Miss Celia.’ Another curtsey. ‘The maids have prepared your room, put a fire on to air it. All is ready for you.’ Her hesitant manner hinted that the curiosity of seeing her walking with Jeremy, rather than a real interest in the girl’s well-being, had driven her down to the shore, aching feet disregarded, with a message that could have been carried by one of the maids.
    The girl looked at her smiling gently, andexchanged a knowing look with Faro, as if she too had guessed the real reason for this intrusion.
    ‘Splendid, splendid.’ And with that she turned her back on them both and continued her walk. Over her shoulder she called, ‘Good evening, Mr Faro, enjoy the rest of your holiday.’
    Faro watched her go regretfully. He had been enjoying her company. Suddenly impatient with his mother’s interruption, he was silent, not listening to her chatter, deprived of an attractive girl’s light conversation.
    Once indoors, the evening changed. The magic vanished with the sudden ferocity of island weather. A faint haze on the horizon heralded not a sunset, but grew into a monstrous white shroud covering what had been a dazzling sunlit sea an hour earlier.
    Faro watched it from the window as Mary Faro said, ‘Good you had your walk earlier, you wouldn’t get far in this. It could last an hour. Let’s hope it doesn’t last a couple of days, though. Makes the place so cold too.’
    Being trapped behind this forlorn blanket worried Faro. It was something people living on the east coast of Scotland also knew only too well. A sudden cold flow of air and the warm sunny day vanished, a scene which Edinburgh’s extinct volcano, Arthur’s Seat, its head in theclouds, saw with unwelcome frequency.
    Restless, he decided that he had better finish his letter to Lizzie. He then discovered that the telescope was not in his pocket, and remembered that he had laid it aside to shake hands with Celia.
    He swore. Expensive, he knew this was a gift Lizzie had saved up for and could ill afford. He couldn’t just leave it there to be swept out to sea on the next tide. Pulling on his boots again, he had reached the door when his mother called, ‘Where are you off to now, Jeremy – in this fog?’
    ‘I dropped something – I must go and look for it.’
    Making his way to the shore was an eerie experience, the mist seemed to clamp down on him and he realised how easy it would be to get lost as he stopped and listened, guided by the sound of the waves lapping the shore. Oddly enough, his solitary footsteps were there in the wet sand and led him to the rock – and most thankfully, the telescope.
    With a sigh of relief he picked it up, and heading back in what he knew was the right general direction, he returned to the lodge. His mother was nowhere to be seen. He tapped on her bedroom door, there was no response. Tiptoeing in he saw that she was fast asleep, snoring gently.
    ‘Goodnight, Ma. Sweet dreams,’ he whispered and, leaning over, kissed her forehead.
    In his room he finished the letter to Lizzie and, feeling just a little guilty, wondered if he would meet Celia again. She was certainly a stimulating presence at Scarthbreck and, recalling their conversation, a very pleasant Lammastide surprise.
     
    It was not to be the end of surprises. Faro was awakened early next morning by his mother.
    ‘There’s someone to see you, Jeremy.’ She looked close to tears. ‘Quick as you can.’
    ‘What’s