24. Piper and the Storm
Chapter twenty-four
Piper and the Storm
The cheerful blue sky I'd watched this afternoon in the gardens has vanished, replaced by thick clouds rolling across the Highlands in heavy layers. Tristan had a meeting in town this afternoon so we didn’t have tea as usual.
The sky turned the color of old slate. I notice it while dressing for dinner.
Wind presses against the bedroom windows, rattling the ancient glass in its lead frames.
Murphy lifts his head from the rug as a roll of thunder sounds. His ears twitch.
I hear another distant rumble and the flash of some lightning. Not close but definitely coming.
I smooth my dress, brush my hair one last time, and try very hard not to think about hidden staircases, slashed portraits, mysterious figures in deserted corridors, or Mrs. MacLeod's unsettling habit of answering questions with riddles.
It almost works.
Another roll of thunder echoes across the hills, closer now. Louder. Scotland, apparently, does not believe in subtle weather. I’ve not experienced a big storm since arriving here, only gentle rain pattering on the castle.
"Come on, boy."
Murphy stretches before following me into the corridor. The castle feels unusually quiet. The wind whistles softly somewhere high above us.
Suddenly a flash of lightning floods the windows at the end of the hall with white light. Followed by another and a heartbeat later, CRACK.
The thunder explodes so violently that the floor beneath my feet trembles.
I jump and Murphy startles too.
"Well ... that was unnecessary."
Rain intensifies against the windows and walls, and another crash of lightning and thunder explodes.
The lights flicker. Once. Twice. Then the entire castle disappears into darkness. Every lamp. Every chandelier. Gone.
For one suspended moment there’s only blackness.
Outside, rain hammers against the windows. The wind howls through unseen chimneys. Somewhere deep inside Glenhaven Castle, an old door slams.
My heartbeat suddenly sounds much louder than it should as another flash of lightning strikes.
"It’s okay boy," I whisper to Murphy as he presses against my leg.
More lightning followed by a crash of thunder hits entirely too close. For an instant the corridor blazes silver. The portraits lining the walls leap into existence, then vanish again.
The darkness somehow feels thicker afterward. I pull my cell out and turn on flashlight mode. I take one careful step. Then another.
The corridor to the staircase suddenly feels impossibly long. Every strange thing I discovered in the castle chooses this exact moment to return in my mind. The hidden staircase. The slashed portrait of Moira. The hooded figure I'd thought I'd seen.
The storm rages, much closer. Before I even realize I've made the decision, I'm hurrying. What I would call walking with considerable enthusiasm toward the main staircase.
Lightning flashes again. At the top of the stairs, I stop. Someone is already climbing toward me.
Tall. Broad shoulders. A single candle glows warmly in one hand. Even before I recognize his face...
I know. It’s Tristan.
"Piper."
Relief floods through me so quickly it almost steals my breath.
"You came."
The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. His expression softens immediately.
"Of course."
Another violent crack of thunder shakes the castle. Instinct takes over. I cover the remaining steps between us almost without thinking. The candle barely has time to reach the table beside the staircase before I'm standing directly in front of him.
"I know it's ridiculous," I say quickly. "I'm not usually frightened of storms, I promise. It's just..." I laugh nervously.
His smile is gentle.
"I thought you might not enjoy facing your first Highland storm alone."
The warmth in his voice undoes the last thread of composure I have left.
"I was trying to be sensible, but it wasn't working."
"I know."
He says it so kindly that I start laughing. And then, before I have time to reconsider ... I step forward.
He opens his arms without hesitation. The relief is almost overwhelming. I melt into his arms.
His embrace is steady and safe. His body is solid and strong. One hand settles lightly against my back while the other slips into my hair.
Outside, lightning tears across the sky.
Inside, everything suddenly becomes quiet.
I close my eyes. My cheek rests against his chest. The tension I hadn't even realized I was carrying slowly melts away.
"I feel ridiculous," I whisper. "It’s only thunder."
"It's very enthusiastic thunder."
"There really is no such thing as ordinary weather here, is there?"
"I'm afraid Scotland prefers drama."
For a long moment neither of us speaks. The castle creaks gently around us. Rain drums against the windows. His body against mine is all I need.
Murphy lies down nearby with a contented sigh, apparently deciding the crisis has passed.
I breathe in slowly. Tristan smells faintly of cedarwood, old books, and something clean I can't quite place. He feels like … comfort and safety.
"I found a hidden staircase this week," I whisper quietly.
"I suspected you might."
I tilt my head just enough to look up at him.
"You knew it was there?"
"I know there are rather a lot of hidden staircases."
"Oh!"
"I was waiting to see how long it would take before one found you."
"One found me?"
"Glenhaven Castle has its own peculiar sense of timing."
"You're impossible."
Lightning flashes again, softer this time as it slowly moves away from the castle. The candlelight dances across his face. Without thinking, I smooth an imaginary crease from the lapel of his jacket.
My fingers linger.
His breathing changes.
"So..." I whisper.
"So?"
"After I kissed you, you never actually told me what you thought about that."
For just a second, the careful composure I've come to know slips. His eyes darken. His voice is quieter now.
"I thought that I had not been kissed like that in a very long time."
Something inside my chest tightens.
"I was hoping you liked it."
"I liked it rather more than was sensible. You’re beginning to have an effect on me, lass.”
I look up at him. He’s already looking at me. The distance simply disappears.
His hand cups my face with extraordinary gentleness. As though I’m something precious. Something he’s almost afraid to touch.
When we kiss this time, it’s slower. Warmer. There’s no surprise in it. Only quiet certainty. The kiss deepens almost imperceptibly.
I want him. He wants me.
My fingers find his shoulder.
His forehead rests lightly against mine when we finally part.
For a long moment neither of us says anything. The storm continues outside but it feels impossibly far away now.
"Piper..." The single word is almost a sigh.
"Yes?"
His thumb brushes softly across my cheek.
"You make restraint extraordinarily difficult."
Heat rushes into my face.
"I'll choose to take that as a compliment."
"It was very much intended as one."
For one dangerous heartbeat, I think he's going to kiss me again. His gaze drops briefly to my mouth and then to my throat. His hand tightens ever so slightly against my waist.
Then, he steps back. Only half a pace but just enough.
Before I can ask why—
"Ahem."
Mrs. MacLeod stands quietly at the end of the corridor holding an enormous silver candelabrum.
"I believe the generator has decided to cooperate."
As though summoned by her words, every light in the castle suddenly springs back to life. Murphy blinks sleepily. I take one involuntary step away from Tristan.
Mrs. MacLeod's expression remains perfectly composed.
"I thought perhaps you might both appreciate knowing dinner will be served in ten minutes."
"Thank you, Mrs. MacLeod," Tristan says with flawless dignity.
"Of course, my lord."
She turns and walks away. The silence she leaves behind lasts exactly three seconds. Then I begin laughing.
"Oh, that was mortifying."
"It was."
"You aren't helping."
"I'm trying very hard."
He almost succeeds. Then he laughs too. The sound is rich and wonderfully rare. I don't think I've ever heard anything quite so lovely.