White Heather (Regency Rakes Book 1) by Jaclyn Reding

Author:Jaclyn Reding [Reding, Jaclyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Oliver Heber Books
Published: 2023-10-30T16:00:00+00:00

It was nearing nightfall. Bare traces of grayish dusk lit Catriona's way to the small secluded cottage that lay like a slumbering dog at the base of a creagan. The windows were dark and as she drew near, she spotted the tall polished staff the Colonel used when he went out on walks, leaning at its place beside the weather-scarred door.

Catriona put down her pail of limpets, then opened the door, knocking softly. "Colonel? Are you here?"

There came no response. Inside, the cottage was dark. Catriona pushed the door open yet further, allowing the dim light from outside to shine within. She noticed immediately there was no fire burning in the central hearth. Catriona couldn't remember a time when she hadn't seen a fire there, the Colonel's favorite posset simmering in its crock, and sometimes a trio of herring smoking on the slowrie above, two of them for the Colonel and the other for Mattie.

Catriona went fully inside and found the tinderbox at its place atop the cupboard near the door. She lit the candle that always sat beside it and turned to look about the silent cottage.

The first thing she noticed was the uncommon visibility. The dense peat smoke that always clouded the inner rafters, swirling about for want of a lum to escape through, was no more. The fire, it seemed, had been out for some time. She saw the Colonel's wooden rocking chair set near the window where he liked to sit and watch for visitors and passersby. Now the chair was empty, his footstool where Catriona would always sit faithfully when she visited stood vacant before it. A half-empty whisky bottle stood on the table, his clay pipe beside it. Everything was there in its proper place.

Catriona walked slowly to the far side of the chamber where the Colonel's ancient box bed filled the corner. The bedding was rumpled but not unmade, as if someone had recently sat upon it. She reached underneath the bed's frame, to the place where the Colonel kept the small pouch that contained the picture map of the prince's treasure. She felt a pang pass through her when she realized that it, like the Colonel, was gone.

A rustling noise came from outside, from somewhere on the straw-thatched roof. Catriona blew out her candle, listened closely in the darkness. The sound came again, nearer to the door this time. Silently, she padded over, peeked outside.

A flash of orange went past her face. Catriona gasped, startled at the sudden movement, until she saw Mattie's green eyes glowing at her in the twilight.

"You frightened me nearly out of my shoes, Mattie," Catriona said to her, rubbing her behind her pointed ears. "Where is the Colonel then, eh, Mattie?"

Mattie let out a plaintive miaow and began pendulating back and forth, slinking the figure of the number eight around and between Catriona’s skirts. The attention was quite unusual for the creature who barely ever gave Catriona a second's attention. Her ears were pricked anxiously forward as she peered at the pail of limpets Catriona had left by the door, mewling again.

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