The Return of Black Douglas Read Online Free PDF

(1917–2008)
English science fiction writer
    Beloyn Castle
    Scottish Lowlands
    Present Time
    The door was huge, heavily carved, and studded with brass. The marks of hundreds of years did nothing to mar its beauty. Isobella rapped the lion’s head knocker. A group of birds flapped out of a nearby tree as the door opened.
    A stout, middle-aged woman said, “You must be the Douglas twins. I am Mrs. Kinsey, the housekeeper you spoke with earlier. You may call me Claire.” She opened the door wider. “Do come in.”
    The entry was dark until Claire drew back the heavy, velvet drapes and sunlight spilled into the room. “As I explained earlier, the castle is closed while the earl and countess are in Italy. If you will follow me.”
    They passed a true medieval hall, huge, with thick walls covered with tapestries and deep-set windows. The fireplace was enormous, and the stone floors, although bare, were highly polished. A lovely rood screen stood along one wall. “I bet these walls know a lot of secrets,” Elisabeth said.
    “Yes, and some are quite blood-curdling,” Claire replied.
    The sisters exchanged glances and followed her through a long gallery, which contained a great curved stairway, massive and wide. “Who plays the bagpipes?” Isobella asked.
    “No one, not since the earl’s grandfather died.”
    Isobella’s attention was suddenly captured by a painting, and her heart pounded excitedly. At least five feet wide and eight feet tall, the portrait was ornately framed in gilt and worth a fortune. She wondered why it captivated her. Beloyn Castle was in the background. The two dogs were Scottish deerhounds. She shivered and felt a chill to her neck, for what disturbed her was the man in the painting. He was quite magnificent and so lifelike he seemed a living, breathing entity.
    He stood with his legs planted far apart and his arms crossed in front of him, with a great black cape swirling out behind him, a glimmer in his deep blue eyes, and a smile upon his lips. His hair was as black as sin, and she felt she had seen that face before, which was impossible, considering that the brass plaque beneath the portrait declared it to be of Sir James Douglas.
    A chill passed over her. “The Black Douglas,” she whispered.
    “Yes, it is.” The phone rang. “If you will excuse me,” Claire said, and hurried away.
    “So, that is what he looked like,” Elisabeth said.
    Without realizing she did so, Isobella put out her hand and touched the bottom of his boot, where the cape curled around it. “It’s really you, isn’t it?”
    And everything went black…
    ***
    When Claire returned to the gallery, the twins were gone. She went upstairs. She searched the eight bedrooms and then the rest of the castle. When she saw their car still parked outside, she called the earl.
    “Yes, my lord, I searched every bedroom in the entire wing and then the rest of the castle, top to bottom.” She glanced toward the great staircase and gasped. “Dear Mary and Joseph! The Black Douglas is gone from the painting.
    “No, my lord, I haven’t been in your Scotch. Yes, I am standing two feet from the portrait. I see the place where he was, faintly outlined, but his image is no longer there. It is as if he stepped right out of the painting and took those girls with him.”

Chapter 6
    But he was not so fair that we
    Should speak greatly of his beauty.
    In visage was he somewhat grey,
    And had black hair as I heard say;
    But of limbs he was well made,
    With bones long and shoulders broad.
    When he was merry he was lovable,
    And meek and sweet in company;
    But who in battle might him see,
    Another countenance had he.
    —Description of Sir James, the Black Douglas
from the epic poem The Brus , 1375
John Barbour (1325?–1395), Scottish poet
    A bitterly cold draft swirled around Isobella, a windy and destructive force that grew in strength. A glowing light surrounded by a shimmering green mist stood on one of the steps of the staircase a