52. Chapter 52 - Blakely

CHAPTER 52 - BLAKELY

LIAM AND BLAKELY CAMPBELL, NEWLY ARRIVED FROM THE US TO BECOME CARETAKERS OF TAYMOUTH (BALLOCH) CASTLE - PRESENT DAY

I woke up and usually I would partake of some hot, hot Liam-loving to go back to sleep, but instead I stared blearily up at the ceiling of this grand bedroom. It was unfamiliar, ornate and gilded. And I was seriously jet-lagged. Also I had forgotten to turn off all the lights, so the room was lit up, making sleep difficult.

I took stock of everything: the carved four-poster bed, the velvet bedspread and luxurious sheets. The antiques. The sweeping windows and long drapes. The mural on the ceiling, the carving over the door.

I had lived in nice homes before. I had been quite rich back in Los Angeles, an agent to the stars, used to luxury, but this was a palace.

I pulled a pillow over and tucked it under my leg, it was all so comfortable. Why couldn’t I sleep? I focused on the victorian-style desk, imagining the people who had written letters there through history… I would need to research who had lived here. The doorway was so wide, tall double doors… was that for the big skirts and the tall wigs? Would there have been guards stationed outside for the kings who lived here?

But not kings, this castle had housed the Earl of Breadalbane, I had looked him up on Wikipedia. I was amazed that an Earl had lived in this much opulence…

That was an exquisitely painted door handle… I needed to bring my best-friend Jess soon, she needed to see this place. She would never believe it until she saw it for real.

Our suitcases were wide open on the furniture, clothes strewn around on the floor, as if we were the American Hillbillies from near Asheville, North Carolina, come to Scotland to rule the palace.

Liam had been sleeping like he often did on his stomach, his big wide rugby playing shoulders stretching his shirt, his face scrunched into the pillow. He mumbled. “Ye are awake, Woodshee?”

I ran my fingers along his back, feeling the warmth of his skin. “Yeah, sorry I tossed and turned, I have a hard time sleeping in a new bed.”

“Me as well, daena let the snorin’ fool ye, tis hard tae get used tae our new home.”

“This is all ours?”

“Aye, courtesy of m’mysterious cousins.”

We rolled onto our sides and faced each other. “What are we going to do first?”

He grinned and his big rugby hand pulled my hip closer to his. “First we might want tae welcome ourselves tae our new home.”

I wrapped my arms around his head and kissed his forehead. He tucked his head to my chest.

We were fully entwined as he stroked his hand up and down my thigh.

“That sounds good, because it’s the middle of the night. I’m all turned upside down.”

He chuckled against my neck, “I will turn ye upside down.”

I laughed. “One minute ago you were fast asleep, your face all smushed, and now you’re ready to go?”

He bounced his hips against me, he was indeed ready to go.

I said,”Oooh, you’re pokey.”

“Ha! I daena ken if pokey is the way ye ought t’describe me. I prefer tae prod than poke, it sounds more substantial — or better yet plow. Och aye,” he pulled my hips even closer, “I am goin’ tae plow ye in our fine bed, with our fancy beddin’.”

“You, sir, sound all kingly.”

He pulled my shirt up and kissed my breast. “I feel like one, livin’ in this fancy castle. Ye heard the manager, what was her name? Nae, daena answer that, I daena want tae think on her. I am thinking of ye, and yer panties comin’ down yer legs, and how I am like a king of... what am I king of...? I am distracted by yer...”

I kicked my underpants off and his fingers played between my legs. I moaned, “What are you distracted by...?”

“Ye ken,” he breathed deeply against my ear, “yer lovely field. I am goin’ tae score a goal down here by yer...” He rolled me over, pulled my shirt off, and kissed and sucked on my breasts and then his mouth against my neck, in that lovely oh so sensitive place, he pushed up into me, big and heavy, hard and powerful — a gasp of my breath as it caught, and then an exhale… as I pressed my lips to his shoulder and held on. We rocked and pushed and pulled against each other for a long deliriously delicious time, and then he rose up above me and plowed into me, over and over, driving me to a climax as he finished.

With a low moan, he collapsed on me, heavy and spent…

He raised his head and shook his hair.

I looked up at him, God, I loved him, such a beautiful man. I tightened my grip around his back and held on, a bear hug kind of holding on, then I let go, with a long exhale, relaxing, fully, releasing him...

He kissed me on the bridge of my nose. “Och, Woodshee, twas a fine way tae start the morn.”

I reached over to the bedside table and fumbled around until I found my watch. I pulled it to my bleary eyes. “I can’t see what time it is.”

He turned his head to the digital clock on the other side of the room that I had forgotten was there. “Three a.m.”

I joked, “Och nae.”

“Dost ye think our hired help will bring us a sandwich?”

“I think, before you ask, you need to make sure you remember her name. She gave us an hour-long tour yesterday.”

“Ye remember her name?”

“Yep, Martha.”

“Och, right, Madame Martha of the Medieval Castle, I remember the joke I made last night. Twas not m’best work. I was worn from the flight and there had been a bit of whisky at dinner. I am not in my right mind, tis why I couldna finish m’metaphor about the try I was goin’ tae score by touchin’ down in yer zone.”

“So sexy.”

He joked, “Tis my way.”

He rolled onto his back and raised his head to look around for... then he got up and walked naked, showing off his incredibly nicely rounded ass, as he went to the bathroom and returned with a towel. He jumped on the bed and we dried me off, then I tossed the towel off the bed and immediately regretted it. “Ugh, what was that? That’s really... not classy.” I peeked over the edge of the bed at the fancy hand towel lying crumpled on the ornate rug. “Someone should really pick that up...”

I lay back. “But what are you going to do, you know? That seems like a lot of work. I’m just going to have to accept I am not classy. I thought I was, but compared to this castle… this is a whole ‘nother thing.”

He returned to the bed, put out his arm, and I curled up alongside him. “So how long was this castle empty?”

He said, “For years, they hae done a fine job of makin’ it nice again. When I was a lad we would sneak ontae the property and peer intae the windows.”

“You never broke in and messed around in here?”

He raised his head looking around and then joked, grinning, “Wheesht, Woodshee, daena let Martha overhear ye. I would never break intae this fine castle.” He nodded his head, then shook it. “Never ever, it dinna belong tae me.”

I laughed. “Now it does.”

“Aye, but I daena want Martha tae think me crass. She is a fine upstandin’ woman she must think me kingly.”

“Again, I regret the hand towel on the floor.”

He looked up at the ceiling, then said, “I canna sleep, let’s dress and go down tae the kitchen for some food.”

My eyes went wide. “Are we allowed to?”

“Tis my castle! Of course we are allowed tae, at least we ought tae begin as we mean tae carry on — gettin’ food at all hours.” He sat up, pulled on his boxers, pulled a t-shirt on, then dug through his suitcase for pants.

I got up and put on clean underwear and a pale blue sundress. If I was going to wander around a palace, post-coital, sneaking food from the kitchen, I was going to wear a dress, as if I were civilized.

He said, “Och, I love the color on ye, Woodshee.”

“Thank you, Liam.”

We snuck from the room. Outside the door, I asked, “Did you remember the way?”

He whispered, “Almost certain tis this way.” He led me down the hallway to a wide grand staircase.

We descended to the foyer. “I’m glad you remembered, I’m totally lost. “

He said, “Follow me,” and led me through two very grand rooms until we came to the double-swinging doors of the restaurant-sized kitchen.

Liam felt along the wall and finally flicked on the overhead lights. I was blinded for a moment. They were so bright.

Suddenly Martha stuck her head in through the door on the other side of the kitchen. She looked alarmed and like we had woken her from a deep sleep. “Sir! Did ye need something?”

“Nae, Martha, I wanted somethin’ tae eat.”

“Ye want me tae get ye something tae eat at this hour?”

“Nae, I am good with gettin’ it for m’self, ye ken, I will make some breakfast for Woodshee— I mean, Blakely, and me.”

Her eyes were wide with surprise, shaking her head as he spoke, seeming at a loss for words.

He added, “We arna allowed tae get food from the kitchen?”

“Ye hae a kitchen in yer apartment! Tis stocked with food!”

I bit my lips to keep from laughing.

He said, “Och nae, I dinna ken, tis... my apologies, Martha. I dinna realize. I am nae used tae the house yet.”

“Well, as the Laird of Taymouth, ye hae yer verra own kitchen. Tis stocked with food and drink.”

I said, “My apologies, Martha, we are sorry we woke you — jet lag, it’s... hard to think straight. I am so sorry. We will go straight to our room.”

“Tis fine, Lady Blakely, ye hae the run of the house, but yer kitchen has been stocked for ye and the Laird. Ye ought tae eat there and not allow the trouble of it tae go tae waste.”

Liam awkwardly bowed and we backed out of the room. As soon as the doors swung behind us we immediately started laughing. I whispered, “I think we got in trouble!”

“Aye, she is wonderin’ how I am a laird and yet so uncivilized.”

“I will have to put on some much better behavior. Do my hair, actually put on makeup so I look respectable.”

As we walked back along through the grand rooms to the stairs, I noticed the library. I pulled his arm and we went in. I switched on a lamp.

The walls were covered from floor to ceiling with shelves holding ancient books. There were ladders to reach the upper shelves. A big desk at one end of the room, a fireplace at the other, two fine leather chairs in front of the hearth, a footstool, lamps on end tables… I wondered who were the historic people who had sat in this library, reading.

Liam had told me about a woman named Lady Mairead who had once lived here, centuries ago, the sister of the Earl. Were some of these her books? I ran my fingers along the shiny wooden desk top. There was a plumed quill pen on the blotter. In front of it, an inkwell. The inkwell had the initials MC on them. Did that stand for Mairead Campbell?

Who had written letters here?

Of all the beautiful rooms and galleries of this palace, I knew this would be my favorite. I was speechless.

Liam said, “Ye like this room, Woodshee?”

I nodded. “I’m already planning to sit there in that chair with my feet up on your lap, while we read books together.”

“Already plannin’ it?”

I walked over to a shelf of books. “Absolutely. Do you think there’s a secret passage behind the shelves? I would love that.”

He said, “I daena ken, we will need tae explore.”

I ran my fingers down the spines, but then my eyes were drawn to a copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. I pulled it out. “I love that this book is here.” I looked it over. “It looks so ancient, but it was just published… what…? A couple decades ago? Maybe it’s a first edition.”

He said, “Woodshee, I am so hungry — can we go tae the room? I canna leave ye here, ye will become lost, and we might not find each other for weeks.”

“That does seem likely. I’m taking this book though, it’s fascinating. How’s it so old?” I tucked it under my arm and followed him out. “And I don’t know if I’ll ever find this library again.”

He led me to our room.

When we were in our apartment, I said, “I’m so impressed you remembered how to get here.”

He said, “I am too hungry tae forget. M’stomach led the way, I was smellin’ the larder.” He pointed. “Look Woodshee! We hae a kitchen counter over there.”

He stalked over and bent down, I heard doors open. “We hae a bar and a refrigerator full of food.”

He pulled out a charcuterie tray, pulled the plastic off it and placed it on the counter. He looked behind himself for glassware. He got down a can of smoked almonds and a bottle of wine.

I said, “I think I forgot it wasn’t a hotel, that this is where we live now, and we are rich apparently.”

“Verra rich.”

He poured us each a glass and pulled the lid off the peanuts.

We began to eat, sitting on barstools, facing each other with my feet on the rungs of his stool. I piled salami and cheese on a cracker and ate it happily.

He groaned with pleasure while chewing.

While we ate I had the book in my lap. “Isn’t it weird, Liam? It’s Harry Potter, but it looks a hundred years old, at least.”

“Aye, but all the books looked like that.” He wadded up a piece of salami and stuck it in his mouth.

“But most of them were old books. It’s odd that an old book and a new book would be in the same condition, especially in such a nice library, one that is trying to keep it temperature-controlled, you know?”

I opened the front cover to look for the copyright, finding a bookplate, it said:

To my daughter, love, Lady Mairead

“Wait, when was she alive?” I showed that to Liam.

“Long time ago.”

Then I turned to the title page where it said,

To Mairead, Love, J K Rowling

“It’s signed, it must be worth a lot.” I flipped to the next page. “The copyright is 1997, and it’s a first edition.” I did some quick counting. “Twenty-six years old. Weird. Have you read it?”

“Aye, the whole series when I was young. Ye ken I went tae the book store in the middle o’the night for the release party o’ the last book.”

“Me too! Aren’t we meant to be?”

“Aye, though I think everyone in the world went tae the release party.”

“True.” I flipped through the pages carefully, because it seemed like it was fragile and noticed there was a gap in the middle, as if there were a bookmark between the pages. I pried my finger inside and flipped it open on the counter. There were two very old pieces of folded paper.

They were once white with pale blue lines, a torn edge, as if they came from a spiral notebook, but yellowed with age.

“This is so mysterious! I wonder what they say!” I picked them up and began to unfold them.

Liam said, “Och, I hope they say somethin’ good and no’ just a utility bill..” He looked around at the ceiling and the room. “Speaking of, what do ye think the utility bill is on this place?”

I pressed the paper open. “I have no idea, it’s gotta cost a fortune.”

He sipped from his wine. “Thankfully m’cousins pay it, I think.”

I nodded. “Yes they do...” I read the papers.

Then I read them again.

Liam popped a peanut in his mouth. “What’s it say, Woodshee?”

I raised my brow. “You sure you’re ready?”

“Aye, lay it on me.”

I read, “It says, ‘I, Lochinvar Campbell, and Ash, are here in Balloch Castle in the year 1683 October the Saturday before the…’ this is hard to tell, it looks like drivers but crossed out to say ‘drovers arrive at creeve to sell cattle. Our vessel stopped working. There are drones here. Attacking us. Our vessel doesn’t work’”

His brow drew down. “That is an odd thing...”

I put that first paper to the side and read the second, “‘Dear Lady Mairead, I hope you are well. We are with Madame Beaty and Madame Sophie and our bairns and we are stuck at Balloch Castle in the year 1710 on May 28. Our vessels are not working, they were working yesterday, but now they do not work. We also think there are men around who are working for Asgall and are…’ it looks like it says spying on us, but then it is changed to ‘They are keeping track of us. We were planning to take a load of weapons and goods to Magnus in 1291 but we can’t. Very sincerely yours,’ it’s signed, ‘Master James Cook’ and ‘Colonel Quentin’.”

Liam said, “Och nae, what does it mean?”

“I don’t want to sound crazy, but it sounds like time travelers are stuck here in the palace somewhere.” I looked around and whispered, “Have I been drinking too much?”

“Ye only had a sip of wine, Woodshee, and time travel is no’real. Tis just a prank, likely.”

I flipped the paper over and read the other side out loud, “But check this out. ‘For Lady Mairead’s eyes only.’” I said, “This warning might bother me, but this is historical, right? Who cares, except , it’s a modern book, maybe they need someone to find it and get the message to her— except you told me Lady Mairead is a historical person, right? She is long gone.”

“Aye, but could be a namesake, ye ken.”

“Yeah, right, true, but get this, ‘the Kingdom of Riaghalbane,’ where the heck is that? Then it says, ‘If this letter is found, please direct it to Lady Mairead on the secure crypto chain: bc1pw508d2…’ and so on, blah blah blah.” I put the paper down on the other. “This is wild , what should we do?”

“We hae tae send it tae Lady Mairead on the alphabet blockchain.”

I raised my brow. “Like… take the letter at face value and send it to a person named Lady Mairead? Like, ‘Hey Lady Mairead, we are Liam and Blakely, we are from the U S of A and we are living in a Scottish castle now because of some cousins who gave it to us to caretake and while we were snooping around, barefoot in the middle of the night, not understanding protocol and decorum, we found a book and some messages, they sound like a hoax, or like a murder-mystery game, but we decided to go ahead and bother you with it because we’re not sure how to behave.’ Like that?”

Liam popped another peanut in his mouth. “ Exactly like that.”

I laughed. “Okay, let’s send it to Lady Mairead.” I got out my laptop and keyed in the wifi code.

He said, “Ye ken how tae send an encrypted message on the blockchain?”

I laughed. “Don’t you?”

“Nae, while the other rugby players were becomin’ crypto boys I was wonderin’ if I would bother with getting a cell phone.”

I said, “Ha! Well, I lived in LA, I have crypto. It was all the rage. I’ll send it. Do you want to write it? You’re the guy who runs the place.”

“Aye.” He spun my laptop around and began typing.

I poured us two more glasses of wine and then used my phone to take photos of the two letters and shared them with the laptop so I could send them all with the message.

He continued striking the keys until he tapped three with a flourish. “Done!”

“What did you say?”

“I wrote, ‘Dear Lady Mairead, Ye daena ken me, I am Liam Campbell, a direct descendant of Sean Campbell, born in 1675. I believe ye and I are somehow cousins. I am the caretaker of Taymouth Castle. I found a book in the library here with two letters. There were instructions tae send them tae ye, so I am includin’ them. I hope this helps and my apologies for the interruption...’ How dost ye think I ought tae end it?”

“Yours sincerely.”

He typed. Then read, “Yers sincerely, Liam Campbell.”

He narrowed his eyes and read it again. “Does it sound good?”

I read over his shoulder. “Yeah, that sounds good. Whatever, right, anyway? She’s nobody to us.”

“She’s a ‘Lady.’”

“Oh right.” I read it again. “No, I think it’s great, plus, you’re the lord of the castle now, right? Don’t worry, we’ll just send it.”

I took the laptop, added the two images to it then said, “Maybe we should add a phone number too?—”

“Add yers. Ye ken I never carry mine.”

I typed my phone number with a note that said in parenthesis:

(My wife, Blakely Campbell’s, phone number…)

I drank some wine, arranged the message, typed in the chain address, and hit send. I closed the laptop. “There. We’ve done it. I don’t know what it is, but we got a message and we followed through. I mean, if you think about it, she doesn’t even need to respond. She could just ignore it, if it’s dumb, or send us a reply if it’s useless. We probably won’t hear from her at all?—”

My phone rang.