My Laird's Castle Read Online Free PDF Page A

kept my eyes on the fire and nodded. I heard him rise and move away. He returned in a moment and handed me a heavy crystal glass of some dark-brown liquid. I assumed it was whisky. We were in Scotland, after all.
    “Drink. It will do ye good, help ye with the shock.” Colin retook his seat. “I ken as soon as I saw ye, Mistress Pratt, that ye were nae as other women I have kent. I thought at first it was because ye were from the colonies. But the shock on yer face when I mentioned the year fair convinced me that ye were nae from our time.”
    I raised my glass to my lips and drank a hefty gulp of the strong liquor, gasping as it ran down my throat and burned a hole in my stomach.  
    “Holy cow!” I said staring at the glass. “That’s strong!”
    “Aye,” Colin said with a chuckle. “Please tell me that whisky still exists in yer time. I canna believe I am speaking such...in yer time.”
    “Yes, whisky is alive and well in my time,” I said, beginning to feel almost a sense of normalcy in the conversation. Or maybe it was the whisky. “And Scotland has many distilleries.”
    “Aye, that’s all right then,” Colin said. He rolled his r as if it would never end, and I loved the sound of it. I sipped my whisky again.  
    “How did I get here?” I pondered aloud, staring at the dark liquid in my glass. “Why?”
    “I dinna ken, madam, nor can I tell ye how to return, should ye wish to do so.”
    I looked up at him then. “Oh, of course I want to go home! I’ll admit I came here to see Scotland. Maybe I really wanted to see the historical part of Scotland, but not to live in it. I can’t survive here!” With my free hand, I jabbed a thumb toward my chest to emphasize the point. “I just can’t.”
    “Why ever not? Is it so different in the future?”
    My eyes widened and I nodded. “Oh, yes. Oh, yes indeedy!”
    “How so?”
    “It would take me hours to explain how different it is in the future, and that’s supposing I know how it is here in your time. And I really don’t. We read about history, Scotland and other countries, but none of us really knows what it’s like to live in mid-eighteenth-century Scotland.”
    “Nooo, I can see that ye might not. Are there no writings to describe our time, our troubles?”
    “Do you mean the Highlander Uprising? Culloden? Bonnie Prince Charlie?”
    “Aye, those and other things. We lost much after Culloden. Do the writings speak of such?”
    I tilted my head—too much whisky, and history class was some eight years ago in high school. I had tried to listen to John, the tour guide, droning on through the microphone, but some folks sitting near me on the bus had talked all through the discussion of events leading up to Culloden. I had hoped to buy a book when we got to the battlefield and memorial.
    “They probably do, Colin, but I don’t know much about them. Is that why you said the kilt was forbidden, and you mentioned English soldiers?”
    “Aye, Scotland has been under English rule for years, and that is not likely to change.” He looked up quickly. “Does it?”
    Oh no! Modern politics. Not my favorite topic. I thought quickly.
    “Not like now, Colin. Scotland belongs to the United Kingdom, which is made up of Northern Ireland, Scotland, Wales and England. But Scotland does have its own representatives in parliament. And they recently voted to stay within the United Kingdom. Does that help?”
    Colin drew a deep breath and released it. He nodded.
    “Aye, there is hope then. Do many Scots live in Scotland?”
    “I’m not sure what you mean. Who else would live here?”
    “If they do not cease driving people off the land, I am afraid no Scots will live here, but the sheep will certainly thrive.”
    I had no idea what he was talking about, but the grief in his body was palpable, and I reached across the table for his hand. Thanks to the whisky, I suspect.
    “Everything is going to be all right, Colin. I promise.”
    Colin pulled my hand to his