The Secret of Isobel Key (3 page)

“Wow!” Lou exclaimed, looking up. “That looks more like a castle than a hotel!”

Tammy smiled. “Mom's got great taste, right?”

“Welcome to Scotland, ladies.” The driver held the door of the hotel open for them with a patient smile.

Standing in the massive lobby, Lou tried not to gawk. She'd grown up accustomed to her parents' quiet wealth, but they were frugal when it came to travel, and she'd never seen a hotel that was so luxurious. She wondered if they knew where Tammy's folks had booked the girls. The floor looked liked marble, and the lobby was furnished with plush sofas and chairs that looked like they belonged in a Victorian museum collection.

Looking around, Lou realized that Tammy had abandoned her in the center of the lobby. She spotted her best friend at the desk and headed over to her.

“We're all checked in. The hotel has a complimentary breakfast; we'll have to make a point of waking up early tomorrow morning!”

Lou nodded, taking her room key from Tammy. “But right now, I just want to sleep off the jet lag!”

Tammy laughed and linked her arm through Lou's. “Isn't this wonderful? We're going to have the best vacation ever.”

They
rode the elevator up to the thirteenth floor in silence, but when Tammy opened the door to their room, Lou gasped in surprise. “This is insane!” She crossed the large room to the tall window and peeked through the curtain. “Tammy, we've got a view of the castle!”

Tammy dropped her bags and flopped across one of the beds. “Who cares about the view; this bed is the most comfortable thing ever.”

Lou sat down on the other bed and sighed. “Seriously. I'm going to sleep for a year.”

Tammy tossed a pillow at her. “Get your rest now, missy. We've got lots to see in the next two weeks!”

~

“Are you going to go exploring?” Tammy asked the next morning as she dried her hair. Her great-aunt was expecting her for brunch, and Tammy seemed nervous about meeting her wealthy older relative for the first time. She'd already shorted out the hair dryer twice, and Lou was stepping carefully around her.

“Maybe. Is there anything you don't care about missing?”

Tammy laughed. “I just don't want to miss any men in kilts!”

Lou smiled as she slung her camera around her neck. “Maybe I'll tour the castle today.”

“Good idea. Take notes; you know I love that history stuff.”

Lou nodded. Tammy was majoring in business, but she'd convinced her advisors to let her add a history minor, as well. “I'll try to remember everything.”

“And don't get lost! Our tour for the Highlands leaves in two days!”

Lou groaned. “That's right. Why'd you have to book us a tour group that leaves at five o'clock in the morning?”

“Because,” Tammy said as she put the finishing touches on her makeup and pulled on her burgundy coat, “it's supposed to be awesome. Bye!”

She waved and headed out of their room quickly. Lou made sure she had her passport and wallet and a few extra rolls of film. Then she grabbed her jacket and headed out into the misty morning.

~

After listening intently to the thick accent of the docent at Edinburgh Castle and snapping two rolls of film, Lou was exhausted. As thrilling as it was to be here, she thought, what she really wanted to do was go back to the hotel and sleep for the rest of the trip. Her high spirits in the castle had quickly plummeted, leaving Lou feeling hollow and empty. Her mind began to tick off all the things that she had left behind in Boston that were worrying her. Lou tried to concentrate on finding her way back to the hotel, but her fears kept poking into her mind.

The morning mist had turned to a downpour, and Lou skittered under the awnings of the businesses she passed. As she raced along, a sign for one-hour film development caught her eye across the street. Making a snap decision, she plunged into the wet cobbled street and raced for the shop. It would be fun to be able to show Tammy her photos from the castle. She had to admit that was one of the drawbacks of using a film camera: waiting to see the pictures.

After dropping off her film, she headed back to the hotel, struggling to stay dry.
If only I weren't unemployed, I'd take a cab
, she thought as she finally sloshed into the hotel lobby.

Lou was sipping her third cup of coffee when Tammy got back from visiting her family.

“Are you bored yet?”

“What do you mean? It was great!” Tammy poured the last of the coffee into a spare mug and sat down.

“Really?” Lou sat forward in her chair.

“Actually, yes. Great-Aunt Hildred had plenty of whiskey, and she likes to talk.”

Lou laughed. “Booze and good conversation. Sounds like your family back home.”

Tammy made a face. “Mom and Dad
never
served any whiskey as good as she had!”

“I'm glad you had fun.”

“You can come with me next time.”

She didn't really want to spend her vacation with Tammy's family. “Maybe.” Lou shrugged, changing the subject. She pulled out the photo envelope from that morning. “I'm really excited about these shots from the castle.” She held them out to Tammy. “Want to see?”

Tammy perched on the arm of the chair, looking over Lou's shoulder at the pictures. “Why did you waste your money on this film? It's ruined!” It was true; most of the images had blurry spheres marring them. One shot of St. Margaret's chapel was almost totally covered with the strange orbs. Tammy leaned forward and grabbed the picture.

Lou looked up at Tammy, debating how much to tell her friend. She was excited about the seemingly ruined photographs because she recognized the blurry shapes from a book she'd picked up recently in the bargain bin at work. Finally, she decided to test the waters.

“They're orbs.” She flipped back through the pictures excitedly.

“Whatever they are, your camera's broken.”

“No, that's not it.” Lou looked up at Tammy and smiled. “Orbs are spirit images.”

“You mean ghosts?” Lou nodded, frowning at the sneer in Tammy's voice. Tammy laughed. “Lou, you're crazy. There's no such thing as ghosts, and even if there were, you wouldn't be able to photograph them.” Dismissively, she tossed the photo back in Lou's lap.

“I've been reading a book about it,” Lou ventured, her hand straying unconsciously to the necklace hidden beneath her shirt. What would Tammy make of the silver, five-pointed star, Lou wondered?

Tammy sighed. “Lou, you can't trust every random book that you find.”

“But don't you think it's interesting?”

Tammy snorted. “No such thing as ghosts. What are you, a kid?”

Lou glanced back at the photos. “These still look like spirit images to me.”

“Whatever. Forget the ghosts and stuff and come with me. I want to see Edinburgh!”

Lou set the photos down on the desk, deciding not to argue with her best friend. But she was quietly elated. As she followed Tammy to the elevator, she decided she'd have to go back to the castle tomorrow and talk with one of the docents about the castle spirits.

~

“Aye, Scotland is one of the most haunted places around.” The elderly docent smiled at the girls. Tammy looked skeptical, but she grinned back at the old man.

Peering up at the vaulted ceiling, Lou raised her camera and clicked the shutter. Tammy leaned forward and asked the docent a question. “What about ghosts here in the castle?” She winked at Lou, and Lou rolled her eyes. Ever since she'd mentioned the orbs in the photos
yesterday,
Tammy had been going out of her way to tease her. Lou hadn't said much since they looked at the photos, but Tammy couldn't let it go.

The old man laughed. “We've plenty of ghosts, make no mistake about that. There's the drummer lad without a head, although he's only ever seen before verra' great battles.” Lou grimaced at the thought, and Tammy chuckled.

“Now, come along, lassies, step lively. There's still more to see of the castle, and if we're lucky,” he winked comically, “we might just spot another ghost or two.”

The girls followed him as he toured the castle, and soon even Tammy forgot about pestering Lou as she stared at the overwhelming size and splendor of the fortress. Lou shot another roll of film while they were there, which she tucked quietly into her bag. She was tempted to ask Tammy if they could stop and get the shots developed, but she was so relieved that Tammy had stopped teasing her about the ghostly images that she didn't want to say anything that might get her started again. The girls parted at the hotel as Tammy raced to a dinner party at her great-aunt's house.

“Don't forget to eat something besides whiskey this time!” Lou offered.

“Don't forget,” Tammy answered tartly over her shoulder, “the tour of the Highlands leaves tomorrow at five!”

Lou groaned. “I still say that's an inhuman hour to travel!” She called after her friend, but her words were lost in the bustle of the busy Edinburgh streets. Still, early or not, Lou was starting to look forward to their Highland adventure.

When Isobel Key was a little girl, she dreamed of falling in love. This may seem like a strange dream for a child born in the year 1622, but Isobel had an example in her life that shaped her ambitions: her parents. They had wed for love, against the objections of both families and the expectations of their era, and they had always seemed to Isobel to be the happiest people in the world.

The couple settled down in a little cottage quite near the village of St. Andrews, where Jacob Key earned his livelihood in the kitchens of the famed university there. Isobel's mother Mary tended their home, but she also tended the people of the village. She was an accomplished midwife before her marriage, and she continued her work after the birth of her oldest child.

To Mary Key, Isobel was a three-fold blessing: a beautiful daughter, a well-mannered child, and, even at an early age, an intelligent and skilled apprentice. Isobel gleefully soaked up all that her parents could teach her: which herbs would speed up a birth, which herbs would sweeten a dish to create a delicacy, and how to give and receive love with true warmth and joy.

The little family thrived quietly for some time, and the only thing that marked the passage of years was Isobel's rapid growth. Despite her knowledge of herbs, Mary Key suffered three miscarriages after Isobel's birth, and the family resigned themselves to only having one child. They eventually accepted this as the will of fate and poured love and affection on their daughter. It seemed as if they would always remain so, frozen in time save for Isobel's height and wit which steadily increased.

Fate does not always accept the resignation of individuals, and one day the Key family grew unexpectedly. When Isobel was ten years old, her mother finally had a successful second pregnancy. After nine months of nervous anticipation, Isobel found herself the proud sister of a darling angel, little Margaret.

Although by this time Isobel had been attending the births in the village for nigh on five years, she was banished from the house during Mary's labor. When Isobel first set eyes on Margaret, her adoration was apparent to all. Age only strengthened the bond the sisters shared, despite the clucking of some old biddies who proclaimed that a girl will only love her sister until one of them is married.

Turning a deaf ear to the old gossips, Isobel stuck to Margaret like one of their mother's healing poultices. Where one was, the other was never more than a stone's throw away, and gradually the people of St. Andrews came to accept the sight of the beautiful, gangly teenager stooping low as she walked to match her height to that of the toddler at her side.

Although it was a shared belief among the community that it was high time Isobel set aside childhood and marry one of the young men in the village, her parents could not bear to cause either daughter unhappiness, and Isobel didn't seem inclined to be wed.

The girls continued to share a sleeping loft even as Isobel passed into the matronly decade of her twenties. Many a night they spent giggling into their pillows long after the candles had been blown out, unveiling their hearts to each other in the manner of best friends. No one would have guessed that the sisters would one day bring tragedy to St. Andrews.

Surveying herself in the mirror, Lou cringed at the thought of all the obligatory tourist photos she and Tammy had already posed for on the first day of the tour: one in front of the castle in Edinburgh, another at Eilean Donan castle, and a third at a rather crumbling structure their guide had assured them had been used in the Monty Python movie (although it looked more like an indistinguishable ruin than a once-glorious castle to Lou).

Standing ankle deep in the thick mud before the ruin with her hair flying every which way, Lou had tried her best to smile. Tammy declared the image on the digital camera to be “absolutely perfect,” but Lou noticed that her eyes and part of her face were hidden beneath her fitful curls.

That was the last straw for Lou, and she decided that a hat might be a temporary solution for her hair. She had bought it yesterday in a dank little shop in Inverness, convincing herself that the gray wool gave her the dashing appearance of being a local Scot and would also help to camouflage her unruly curls in future photographs. The new hat refused to behave, however, and Lou was already running late to meet the tour group for another wet adventure.

“Oh, forget it!” Lou cried out in frustration, yanking the cap from her head and tossing it to the floor beside her. One look at her static-happy hair in the mirror, however, and she promptly returned the lumpy grey wool to her head. Drawing a deep breath, she tried to steady her antsy mind. She grumbled to herself as she grabbed her jacket off the floor by her bed, where it lay in a crumpled heap of suede. Lou picked up her camera and took off down the steep stairs at a run, trying to catch up with Tammy and the already assembled tour group below.