скачать книгу бесплатно
In his case his home really was a castle—a money-gobbling anachronism. He preferred his flat in London. As his parents were wont to remind him, though, his home was a monument to the past and was his legacy as a MacGowan.
Lucky him.
The Security Service continued to pay him his full salary, which he appreciated.
Ian glanced at his watch. He hoped Jenna would stay until the book was finished. Afterward, he would no longer need her…or anyone else.
Jenna followed Hazel as they turned down yet another hallway from the top of the stairs.
The stairs continued to the next floor. She’d seen photographs of five-star hotels no larger than this place. Antique weapons and paintings of men in kilts and women wrapped in the bold plaid of the MacGowans decorated the walls.
Sconces provided light in the dim hallways, and Jenna almost laughed out loud at the sudden image of being locked away in a Gothic castle with a beast. Her active imagination had helped her survive the uncertainties of her childhood and it continued to flourish. She reminded herself that, since she was no beauty, she doubted she would be living out that particular fairy tale.
“This place is huge,” she murmured.
“I know,” Hazel replied, “but you’ll get used to it. All but this wing are closed, which is a shame, really, with so much history on display. The historical society has asked more than once for permission to bring tours through the unused parts of the castle. I’ve pointed out to Ian that the added income would help to keep up with the maintenance. But he tells them no. He says he doesn’t want to stumble over strangers in his own home.”
“It must take an army to keep up with the cleaning.”
Hazel chuckled. “As a matter of fact, it does. Periodically we have several of the women in the village come in and do the heavy cleaning. Two of them come in on a weekly basis to clean this section.”
“I feel fortunate to be able to live here.”
“Oh, it would be too much to ask you to commute from one of the villages when we have all this room. I’m pleased that you seem to appreciate it.” She paused in front of one of the doors. “Personally, I’m glad to have the company. Before Ian returned home, Cook and I rattled around the place except on cleaning days. Ian doesn’t entertain and rarely has overnight visitors. He prefers his own company, you see.”
“Yes, I did get that impression,” she replied wryly as Hazel opened the door.
“Oh, dear. I hope he didn’t put you off from working for him. He’s a dear, really. Just a trifle impatient. He’s eager to return to work.”
“I see,” Jenna replied politely if not truthfully. He hadn’t mentioned his profession to her. Since she was there to transcribe his novel, whatever else he did was none of her business.
Hazel walked into the room and said, “Here we are. I hope you’ll be comfortable.” She crossed the sitting room and opened a door. “Your bedroom is through here. It has an attached bath. During the latest remodeling, the MacGowans decided to turn the bedrooms into comfortable apartments with modern conveniences, including some much-needed closet space.”
Jenna was speechless. She’d had no idea that she would be living in what looked to be a royal apartment, with its ornate woodwork and cornices, rich draperies and rugs, as well as museum-quality furniture.
“I’m trying not to think of my being here as part of a fairy tale, but it’s difficult not to with everything you’ve shown me.”
“Complete with an ogre when Ian’s in one of his moods.”
Jenna burst into surprised laughter. “I was thinking along the same lines. Oh, my, it isn’t at all polite to joke about my employer.” She could feel her cheeks glow with embarrassment.
“Don’t worry about it. Ian has a great sense of humor. He just keeps it packed away most of the time until it must get rusty with disuse.” Hazel walked back into the sitting room. “If there’s anything you need, please let me know.”
Jenna smiled. “Thank you. This is wonderful. I feel as though I should be paying you for the privilege of living here.”
“Don’t worry. After a few days of working to catch up with Ian, you’ll feel that you’ve more than earned your keep!” With a quick wave of her hand, Hazel left the room.
Jenna knew she needed to return downstairs as soon as possible, but after Hazel left she couldn’t resist taking a peek out the windows. When she did she discovered that she had a bird’s-eye view of extensive gardens that were obviously planned to be a showcase.
She promised herself a closer look as soon as possible, but for now she needed to freshen up and return to where Ian awaited her. She didn’t need to incur his displeasure by dawdling.
Once in the hallway, she looked around her, hoping to gain some familiarity with her section of the castle. Too bad she hadn’t thought to sprinkle bread crumbs on the way to her quarters so she could find her way back to the library. Shades of some gothic novel where a castle holds myriad secrets for an unsuspecting employee to discover!
Luckily she found her way with only one detour. Ian stepped out of the library as she came down the last few steps. With a short nod by way of acknowledging her presence, Ian said, “I’ll show you to your office.”
This close to him, Jenna was acutely aware of his size. She barely came to his shoulder. There must be Viking blood in his veins. She could picture one of his ancestors wielding a five-foot sword during a clan dispute without breaking a sweat.
“Here we are,” he said, and opened a door at the back of the hallway. He motioned for her to enter. When she did, she was pleasantly surprised to see that the room was quite cozy and well lit from a bank of windows. She would enjoy working here.
“This is quite lovely,” she said, smiling. A computer sat at a fully equipped workstation.
“I believe you’ll find everything you need.”
She followed him to the desk and quickly scanned its contents. She nodded without looking at him.
He pointed to a stack of tapes. “These are the tapes I mentioned. They must look overwhelming to you and for that, I’m sorry. Do the best you can.” He glanced at her and added, “Do you think you’ll be able to manage?”
“Don’t worry. I really am well trained for this sort of thing.”
“Good. After you print out what you’ve transcribed, leave it on my desk in the library. If you have questions and I’m not available, attach a note to the place and I’ll answer it when I can. Any questions?”
“No. I believe you’ve been quite clear.”
“You haven’t asked about days off.”
Amused, she said, “Not with that much work waiting for me. I don’t dare,” she said, grinning. “Don’t worry. I’ll let you know when I need a break. I’m fairly flexible about working out a routine. If I fear that you’re taking advantage of my good nature,” she added, tongue in cheek, “I will—of course—immediately make it known to you.”
He gave an abrupt nod and turned away. Without looking back he said, “I’ll leave it to you, then.”
Once the door closed behind him, Jenna pulled out the chair and sat in front of the computer. She turned it on and was pleased to see that the latest in software programs had been installed. She picked up the first tape, placed it in the transcribing machine, adjusted the earphones and began her new job, four hours after leaving her interview with Violet Spradlin.
While Ian went through his physical therapy program that afternoon, he recalled the incident that had almost killed him. It had been the basis of many a nightmare during the past few months.
As a member of the Security Service, the U.K.’s civilian intelligence agency, he was used to covert operations. Only a handful of people knew what he actually did for the government. Even his parents thought he had a desk job somewhere in the maze of government offices.
His last assignment called for him to infiltrate a terrorist cell. In the midst of a meeting that took place in the basement of an abandoned building, one of their explosives went off without warning.
Several were killed outright. He would have been, as well, if he hadn’t been somewhat protected by a concrete pillar.
The blast had thrown him several feet. When he landed, his left arm and leg were broken and his knee was damaged.
He didn’t remember anything about the explosion. The first he knew something had happened was when he became fully conscious in the hospital.
The pain had pulled him out of the gentle darkness where he rested. The throbbing rhythm had coursed through him, which had told him he’d been hurt badly.
“Ian,” a quiet voice said, “wake up. We need to talk.”
His supervisor, Todd Brewster, stood beside the bed watching him when Ian forced his eyes open.
“Did you get the license number of the lorry that ran over me?” Ian said hoarsely.
“I asked them to ease up on the pain medication long enough for you to be able to talk.”
“How thoughtful of you,” Ian muttered. “What happened?”
“What do you remember?”
Ian forced himself to concentrate, his sluggish brain slow to respond. “The last thing I remember was the cell meeting.”
“Do you recall what was discussed?”
Ian did his best to report details. He ended with “Who else was hurt?”
“Out of the five there, three were killed outright and the other is in critical condition. We decided that the identity you assumed was also killed.”
Ian closed his eyes. After a moment Todd said, “The word is that you were in a bad car smash-up. You’ll be on medical leave with full pay until you recover.”
“Since I’m wearing casts on my arm and leg, I presume they’re broken. What else?”
“Your leg is broken in two places. Your shoulder was dislocated and your wrist broken. However, it’s your knee that has the surgeons most concerned. It’ll be a while before you have full use of it.”
“Just what I needed.”
“My suggestion is for you to go home—not your flat—to Scotland. Come back when you’re better.”
“What if my knee doesn’t improve? What then?”
“Let’s don’t do worst-case scenarios right now. You’re damn lucky to be alive. Once the doctors release you I’ll have one of our people drive you to Scotland.”
Ian had nodded and had watched as Todd had left the room. There’d been a great deal left unsaid. The most important had been whether or not he would work again.
“That’s enough for the day, Ian.” He was brought back to the present when Hal, his trainer, said, “I’m amazed at the progress you’ve made since I’ve been coming here. I didn’t think your knee would ever become as flexible as it has. You never acknowledge the pain. It’s only when you turn white that I know you’re pushing yourself past your limits.”
“The pain doesn’t matter. What matters is that my leg becomes fully functional.”
After he showered and dressed, Ian went to check on Jenna. He found her typing so fast her fingers were a blur. He waited until she paused before speaking. “Are the tapes decipherable?”
She started and removed her earphones. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were there.” She paused, as though searching for words. “The tape fades in and out at times. It could be the recorder.”
“Or my dictation. I pace while I talk. I’ll watch how I hold the mike in the future.”
“I was wondering if I could run out a copy of what’s already been transcribed before today. I’d like to be able to understand the story.”
“Whatever helps you.”
“This is a spy thriller, isn’t it?”
“Of sorts, I suppose.”
“Where did you get the idea for your novel?”
“I’m writing what I like to read.”
She smiled. “Oh, I thought you might be writing from experience.”
He lifted his brow. “Hardly.”
“Ah. Well, then, you have a very lively imagination.”
“Sorry to have disturbed you. I’ll let you get back to work.” He turned and walked to the door, the sound of the soft clicking of the keyboard accompanying him.
Jenna felt she had made some progress by the time she went up to her room that night. Before going to sleep, she read the first seventy-five pages of Ian’s novel. By the time she’d caught up with the story, Jenna was hooked.
The book was definitely about espionage, as she’d surmised. His protagonist, a government agent, was in hot water by page five.
She wondered what Ian’s job was. Perhaps he was an accountant fantasizing about living life dangerously.
She went to sleep smiling at the thought.
Jenna had been there for several days when she awoke early to discover that the ever-constant clouds and damp weather that seemed to be a permanent condition in Scotland had been chased away by the glorious sun. Light poured into her windows, gilding everything.
Too excited to sleep, she hurriedly dressed for the day. She must have been too distracted to notice where she was going because somehow she managed to miss a turn and found herself wandering through dimly lit hallways in an effort to find her way downstairs.
“That’s what you get for not paying attention,” she muttered to herself. “You’ll lose the extra time before work trying to find your way out of the place.” She felt like some heroine in a novel, lost in the endless halls of an ancient castle. All she needed was an armored suit to come to life and start clanking its way toward her and she’d be screaming.
She came across a gallery lined with oil paintings—no doubt a pictorial display of the MacGowans down through history. She wished she had time to study them and promised herself that she would come back sometime soon—if she ever managed to find the place again.
Jenna gave an audible sigh of relief when she spotted some narrow stairs leading downward. She hurried down them and opened the door at the bottom of the stairwell. She couldn’t say who was the most startled when she found herself in the kitchen—she or the woman working at the counter.
“Oops,” she said, laughing. “Sorry to bother you. I’m Jenna Craddock, Sir Ian’s secretary. If you could point me toward the dining room I’ll get out of your way.”
The woman chuckled. “Certainly,” she said. “I’m Megan MacKinnock, better known as Cook. Follow me.”
The smell of fresh coffee greeted Jenna when she stepped into the dining room from the kitchen. She took her meals in an alcove surrounded by windows. Every time she had occasion to enter the dining room—which was usually for breakfast only—she felt as though she should be wearing clothes from a hundred years ago. The room and its massive table could easily seat a hundred people with no difficulty. It was a shame that it was so seldom used. She had a sudden flash of another century where genteel women and courtly gentlemen filled the room while candlelight was reflected in all the mirrors.
Mustn’t fall into one of your romantic daydreams, she reminded herself. Since coming here, she’d helped herself to several books in Ian’s library. She had always enjoyed history as a child, whether in textbooks or in historical novels. She found English and Scottish history most appealing. She would envision herself fighting at Bannockburn and later at Culloden, wielding her sword in a mighty rush to save her people.
Sometimes she wondered if her ancestors might be Scottish. If they were, it would be a little eerie to think that she’d always been on the side of Scotland long before she’d discovered that she was Scottish.
“Good morning, Jenna,” Hazel said as she came through the door. “Did you sleep well?”
“Quite well, thank you.”
“Cook said you got lost this morning.”
“Just a case of not paying enough attention to where I was going.”
“Have you seen Ian this morning?” Hazel asked.
