The Magic Ring of Brodgar - стр. 8
“My God! It wasn’t a dream! How did I end up here? Who brought me back to my room?” Megan whispered in horror. Gregor? Warren? What happened to the man who tried to kill me? Could she have ever imagined that the trip to her ancestral home would turn out to be so dangerous?! After all, she hadn't even left the castle grounds.
Slowly getting out of bed, Megan went to the bathroom to clean herself up before meeting her relatives. Moreover, she was eager to see Gregor and find out what had happened after she lost consciousness.
Megan put on a formal black suit and low-heeled shoes, pulled her thick chestnut-brown hair into a bun, and finished off with a few light and subtle touches of makeup. She descended the wide staircase into the hall. Terrifying memories crowded in again, scenes of what she had experienced flashed through her mind like a movie. There she was, walking to the front door, mesmerized by the music, leaving the castle…
I wonder, what role the highlander with the bagpipes had to play in all this? From his vantage point on the hill, he must have had a clear view of what was happening on the riverbank. But he didn't come to help. Perhaps he was in league with the attacker?
Megan looked around. The castle was dead silent as if she were completely alone. Suddenly, the estate manager appeared, as if from nowhere.
“Oh, Gregor, I was looking for you,” she said anxiously.
“Good morning, Miss. What can I do for you? Are you comfortable in your room?”
“Yes, quite. I left the castle last night. I heard the bagpipes and wanted to find out who was playing…” she paused, waiting for a reaction to her words.
“The bagpipes?” Gregor asked, surprised. “I didn't hear anything like that.”
“You didn’t leave the castle at all yesterday evening?”
“No, Miss, I didn’t. After I left your room, I worked for several hours on the reports for our gathering today.”
“I see. Thank you,” the girl took a brief pause. “Where is the kitchen? I’d like to have breakfast before meeting my relatives.”
“The assembly hall is to the right of the stairs, and the kitchen is opposite it.”
“Thank you.”
“See you later, Miss.”
Megan was frantically pondering who had brought her to the bedroom after the night's incident, if not Gregor. Could he be the one in the black cloak? He hadn't heard the bagpipes nor responded to her scream. Could there be a conspiracy against her? Or was it truly a maniac who didn't care whom he killed?
Utmost caution is necessary; trusting anyone is now out of the question. Anybody could be the enemy. Yet, what reason would Gregor have to kill me? What would he gain from it? My relatives could be involved, considering their potential interest in the inheritance.
Her mind was a whirlwind of confusion, ideas buzzing like a swarm of bees. The question of who had brought her into the castle at night haunted the girl. This person somehow knew which bedroom she was staying in. Lost in deep thought, she entered the kitchen. At the head of the table, was a man not much older than Megan, with hair the same color as hers, well-built and quite attractive. His face looked a bit tired. To his right sat a woman who appeared to be near Megan in age. Her light brown hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and she was wearing practically no makeup, yet her face was open and pleasant enough. They sat in silence, drinking tea, and seemed quite contemplative.