A Laird for Christmas (29 page)

“Good heavens,” Lady Margaret cried as she entered the kitchen. “What has happened here?”

Flour was everywhere. On the floor, the table, the ceiling, and on each of the men. Nicholas dusted the flour from the front of his plaid, then scrubbed sugar from his fingertips.

Marthe slipped in behind Jane and came to a halt at the door. “Merciful heavens. You have ruined my lovely kitchen.” Her wild gaze traveled about the chamber and came to rest on Nicholas. “Which of you rapscallions did this?”

David’s expression clouded and Colin’s lips thinned.

“We are all responsible and we will all clean up the mess when Lady Jane is through with her judging,” Nicholas replied.

The cook muttered under her breath and crossed her arms over her ample chest, watching all of them from the doorway. “No one leaves until
I
say ’tis clean.”

“Anyone want to go first?” Jane asked, no doubt eager to turn the conversation away from the horrible mess they had created.

“Will it make you look more kindly on our cooking?” Bryce asked. “If so, then I volunteer.”

With a smile Jane stepped toward Bryce. “I am certain all of your creations are wonderful.” Her smiled faded a moment later as she looked upon Bryce’s offering. The overly large brown blob of dough with currents poking out at odd angles was wet and shiny, and left a film of brown liquid on the platter beneath.

Jane worked her lower lip with her teeth. “What is it?” she asked hesitantly.

“You do not have to eat any since it is not quite ready yet,” Bryce explained, with a sheepish look. “The Clootie needs to sit by the fire to dry for a while, but I ran out of time.”

Jane nodded as a look of relief washed over her face. “Then let me judge your creation by smell.” She bent down and inhaled deeply, then smiled. “It smells good.” Her voice held a note of surprise. “Why would you consider this a Christmastide dish?”

“My mother used to make a Clootie Dumpling every year for Christmas Eve.” Sorrow lingered in his tone. “Cooking this treat today made me realize how much I miss her.” He stared down at his dish with a frown. “It might be the memory that is more delicious than the actual dumpling,” he admitted.

Jane nodded. “Sometimes that is the case, but I am certain we will all enjoy your treat when it is finished.”

Jane moved to David next. Her gaze skated over his pie with intrigue. “Very impressive, David. Why did you make a pie?”

“It is the only dish I know how to make. I did add a small flourish of holly cut from dough.” He pointed to the center of the pie with his knife. He cut her a thin slice with a portion of the holly leaf, then offered it to her.

Jane took a bite of the savory pie and chewed, and chewed, and chewed.

“What is wrong?” David asked.

Jane brought her hand up to her mouth. “It is a little tough.”

David cut a small bite and popped it into his mouth. His expression darkened. “The crust is like leather.” He glared at Colin. “Too much flour.”

Colin picked up one of his oatcakes and tasted it. “God’s teeth,” he growled and tossed the uneaten portion back into the pan. “They taste like wood. Nay,” he clarified, “they taste worse than wood.” The depths of his disappointment shone in his eyes.

“At least you both
can
cook when, perhaps, less flour is involved,” she offered with a note of cheer as she moved on to Jules.

Jules’s earlier confidence was no longer present as he held out a plate of brown and black cookies toward Jane. “Your favorite?”

“Almond cookies.” Her gaze moved to the cook hovering near the door. “I see Marthe has a clear favorite.” Jane accepted one of the less burned offerings and took a small bite. She chewed carefully, then flicked the remnants of charred almonds from her lips. “They are delicious, Jules. A little burned, but delicious nonetheless.”

“Ye burned the cookies?” Marthe shook her head. “How could ye burn the cookies? I gave you precise directions of what to do.” She frowned at Jules.

Jules bristled. “The oven was hotter than expected. They might look a bit burned, but they taste all right. Jane said so herself.” He popped one of the thin cookies into his mouth, then frowned. “No they do not.” His gaze caught and held Jane’s. “They taste terrible.” He snatched the cookie from her hand and returned it to the plate. “So much for my cooking skills. Only one more contestant to go.”

All eyes turned to Nicholas.

Nicholas’s heart sped up as he reached behind him for a shallow pan with a thin piece of linen over the top.

“What is it?” Jane stepped closer, peering at the dish with raised brows.

Nicholas pulled the linen back to reveal his snowy white creation. Not a hint of flour dusted the surface, only a thin layer of glistening sugar. “I call it snow.”

“Snow?” Jane, Lady Margaret, and Marthe all repeated at the same time.

Marthe hurried across the room to peek at his entry. She frowned. “It doesn’t appear to be cooked at all. ’Tis just cream.”

“There you are wrong.” He handed Jane a spoon. “I frothed cream, rosewater, and sugar together, then dusted it with more sugar. If you look closely, the sugar on top has been crystalized with heat.”

“It looks like snow.” Jane exclaimed as she punctured the delicate surface with her spoon. On her spoon, his creation sparkled like diamonds in the candlelight. She brought it to her lips and tasted it.

Nicholas watched Jane work her tongue against the fluffy cream, and heat stirred in his veins. He had to win this competition. If only to keep the others away from her. “What do you think?”

She closed her eyes and drew a slow, even breath. “It tastes like heaven,” she moaned. “Sweet, light, and unique. It looks like a snowy Christmas morning. Definitely a winner.”

The words he had longed to hear.

Groans of disappointment filled the room. Those groans turned to appreciative responses as Jane passed the “snow” about the room for the others to try.

The last to judge his creation was Marthe. She scooped up a big spoonful and tasted. A heartbeat later her eyes widened and she smiled. “Wherever did you get this recipe?”

“From you.” He moved to the back wall and reached on the top shelf of the cupboard for her one and only cookbook.
Excellent and Approved Recipes and Experiments in Cooking
. “Without your help, I never would have won this competition. Thank you.” He leaned close and pressed a kiss to the cook’s cheek.

“You devil you.” Marthe turned red from her neck to her forehead. “You have won yourself time alone with Lady Jane, after you men clean up my kitchen.” She looked pointedly at each of them.

“Not to worry, Marthe,” Jules said, picking up a broom from the corner. “We can clean better than we cook.”

“What are your plans for Lady Jane?” Bryce asked with suspicion. “I hope you will do something to keep her safe.”

“That was my intention,” Nicholas replied, catching Jane’s gaze. “For our time alone, I give you the gift of time alone.”

At Jane’s quizzical expression he explained, “I want you to enjoy a bath in your chamber while the rest of us spend the evening tearing this castle apart. It is time for us to gain the upper hand before the villain strikes again.”

“That is quite a sacrifice.” Lord Galloway took Lady Margaret’s hands and drew her to him, holding her close. “You would give up time alone with Lady Jane in order to protect her?”

“I will do anything and everything to see Lady Jane safe.”

“A true hero.” Lady Margaret nestled into Lord Galloway’s arms.

Not a hero
, Nicholas corrected. Simply a man desperate to win Jane’s love for a lifetime.

N
icholas gathered with the men in the great hall after supper that evening. “We will work in teams of two. I want every room in this castle thoroughly inspected. Look at every wall, every surface. Use the candelabras to determine if there is airflow in a room where there should be none.”

“The villain is getting around the castle without being seen. There must be an explanation for this,” David added.

“Another explanation besides the supernatural.” Jules arched his brows in amused challenge.

“Besides a ghost,” Lord Galloway echoed. “What need have they for secret passageways?”

“I still cannot believe you gave up time alone with Lady Jane for this.” Bryce shook his head.

“Perhaps that was my plan all along.” Nicholas smiled. “What better way to earn Lady Jane’s good graces than to sacrifice our time alone for her welfare?”

David raised his brows. “Excellent foresight.”

Jules frowned. “Let us stop wasting time. I want to find whoever is after the Lennoxes and their heirs. So tell me, Nicholas, what exactly are we looking for?”

“You gave me the idea after you said you retrieved Jane’s doll, Meriwether. We now know there is at least one priest’s hole left over from the persecution. The Lennoxes would have been sympathetic to the plight of the Catholics. They could have built one or more secret passageways or hiding places.”

“Are we to tear down the paneling and pull up floorboards?” Colin asked.

“Nay,” Nicholas replied. “Priest holes were usually situated in places where there might have been empty space—as an offshoot of a chimney, in an attic, beneath a staircase.”

“We should be able to hear the hollowness of the walls by tapping on them,” David offered. “I know at Hathaway Hall we have a priest hole that connects with the garderobe. My ancestor’s theory was that no one would ever want to look there, therefore those hiding in the empty space off the exit hole would be fairly safe.”

“Brilliant,” Jules agreed.

“Often the hiding places were subterranean in nature, with the passages evolving into a thousand windings to discourage the priest hunters,” Nicholas explained. “Do not discount the floorboards.”

“Where do we start?” Lord Galloway asked, coming to his feet.

“You and Bryce take the great hall, the buttery, and the servants’ hall,” Nicholas said, motioning toward the doorway. “David and Colin, you take the south and east wing and towers. Jules and I will explore the north and west wing and towers. Whoever finishes their exploration first, move down to the storage rooms.”

The men departed to their assigned spaces, leaving Jules and Nicholas alone. “Where do you want to start?” he asked his friend.

“I want to go back to the north tower. All the sightings of Lady Lennox’s ghost there have to mean something.” Jules straightened and a look of determination shone in his eyes.

“Sounds as good a place as any other,” Nicholas agreed.

They left the chamber and proceeded up the stairs to the hallway where he and Jane had previously explored. For the next hour, they tapped on every inch of the walls and floor, finding nothing.

“If we continue at this pace, it will take us well past Christmas to complete our search.” Disappointment laced Jules’s voice. “I say we split up and cover twice the territory.”

Nicholas frowned. “You may be right; however, what if you come into contact with—”

“Do not be my nursemaid, Nicholas.” Jules’s hand went to the sword at his left hip. “I am stronger than I look.”

Nicholas knew better than to argue with him. He simply nodded and asked, “Where do you want to look next?”

“I will take the west tower. What about you?”

Nicholas returned his gaze to the long hallway before him. “I will keep searching the bedchambers.”

On a nod, Jules left him for the tower.

Nicholas drew a fortifying breath and moved to the bedchamber on his left. This chamber had been assigned to Lord Galloway. Nicholas entered. He inspected each wall, each nook, each divot in the floorboards, to no avail. He had similar results in Colin and David’s chambers. Bryce’s chamber had a layout similar to the others he had just inspected. However, when he studied the chamber, he could not help but think something in this room was different.

The room faced northwest, receiving the light from the morning sun through the chamber’s only window. Nicholas frowned. That was odd. The other rooms he had searched had sported two windows that had once been shuttered and were now fixed with glass panes.

Nicholas closed his eyes and tried to imagine what this wall of the castle looked like from outside. This aspect of the castle faced the open field where they had sparred. He put himself back there and turned toward the castle, counting the windows. They were situated in pairs of two. Ten windows he recalled.

He opened his eyes and went back out into the hallway, counting the bedchambers. There were five rooms along the outside wall of the castle. Five rooms with two windows apiece.

Except for Bryce’s chamber.

Nicholas’s heart jumped, pounding at the discovery. He returned to Bryce’s chamber and bent close to the wall where the other window should have been. He felt along the cool stone, searching for any anomaly. The wall was clean of cuts or levers. Disappointment welled as he moved to the hearth. The small bedroom fireplace abutted the adjoining wall. Nicholas tapped and tapped the stone, expecting nothing, when all the sudden he heard a soft echo beneath his hand. He rapped again, not believing his ears. The sound came again. The fireplace. There had to be an opening near the fireplace.