Free The Night Side by Melanie Jackson

disapproval and not superstitious fear that had arrested his breath.
    “She’s still scarin’ the servants,” Tearlach added. “They say her legs gae runnin’ aboot on stormy nights. But I’ve seen ‘em sometimes just floppin’ about on the stones.” He tsk ed and looked up to see how this story was being taken.
    “And the rest of her?” MacJannet asked in a faint voice.
    “Well, she cannae get aboot without legs, can she? Nae, she just knocks on the chest askin’ tae be let out. But we never do let her. It’s a wicked enough time dealin’ wi’ her legs.”
    Colin doubted this story, but if the ghost did disturb his rest, he would have the chest removed.
    “And the Bokey hound?” he asked, sounding only mildly interested. This familial fixation with ghosts was getting annoying. So much superstition would impede any efforts at reasonable conversation.
    “Aye, poor mutt. He mostly stays below stairs until some puir soul is tae die. He crawled there after the master beat him, and there he died, the miserable beastie. Some reward for knocking the poison cup out of the drunkard’s hand. But Balfours are mean.”
    So! The beast might not be a hellhound. It could be a ghost. Animal spirits were rare, but Colin had once encountered a spectral horse and its ghostly rider in Cornwall.
    “How charming. Does any room in the castle not contain some grisly ghost? Perhaps we would be safe in the privies?”
    Tearlach’s brow furrowed. “Well, there is at times some howling and moaning in the privies.”
    “That is not entirely supernatural,” MacJannet pointed out. “Particularly if the meat has gone bad.”
    Colin shuddered. Tearlach’s vulgar conversation was beginning to affect even the prim MacJannet. The man was a verbal plague.
    “Enough. When is the evening meal served?”
    “After nightfall. We never eat before full dark,”Tearlach answered reluctantly, clearly wishing to continue his discussion of ghosts and other horrors.
    “Then I shall see you at dusk and not before,” Colin said, indicating to MacJannet that he should eject their visitor from the room.
    Tearlach, who was finally beginning to read Colin’s gestures, hied himself away without further argument, though with a great deal of muttering. MacJannet closed the door gently and then cleared his throat.
    “Go ahead and speak your mind,” Colin invited. “I know that you are unhappy with what you have seen.”
    “I believe that we may have barely arrived in time to prevent a disaster. You must see that Mistress Balfour cannot continue to care for the boy and this keep alone. She’s sly, but that is not sufficient to keep the local wolves away.” He sounded disapproving. MacJannet had very set notions about the roles of the sexes.
    Colin grunted. “Aye, I do see it. And I know that clever females can be a nuisance, particularly if their hearts are evil, but do you know, MacJannet, in spite of the current fashion, I have never cared for a total absence of wit in women? And especially not in one who must serve as an ally.”
    “I do not think that we are seeing any such lack now. And I did not say that she was evil,” MacJannet protested mildly. “’Tis simply not a task for a woman alone. And she must be made to see it before disaster befalls this keep.”
    “No, she’s not lacking in wits, is she?” Colin smiled widely. “I think Mistress Balfour is a very devious and brave creature. And likely quite willful. This is going to be a most interesting time, and possibly even an arduous one, wresting power from her tiny hands.”
    “Indeed.” MacJannet sounded considerably less happy than his master.
    His pessimism with their circumstances was confirmed quickly after Colin said: “I suppose that you made note of the complete lack of pampered paunches in this keep.”
    “I did. Winter may see the end of some of these people if supplies of meat are not found.”
    “That is also my belief,” Colin replied. “And so…we will have