Highland Bachelor 02 - This Laird of Mine by Gerri Russell Page B

light streaking through the morning haze. “It looks to be a warm day ahead; let us relax and enjoy ourselves and our company out in the evening breeze.”
    “The day has yet to begin and you are already forecasting its direction,” Jules replied with a hint of annoyance.
    “Oh, I can forecast a great many things, Jules MacIntyre. The weather is an easy one. The unhappy response of your female guests to your morning shooting is another, and that you will delight in the supper I prepare is yet a third.”
    “We will see about that,” he replied with a fierce challenge in his eyes.
    With a bright, artificial smile, Claire replied, “Indeed, we will.” Not waiting for a response, she closed the shutters and returned to her bed. She collapsed onto the linens and pulled the pillow up over her head. Claire closed her eyes and prayed for a moment that she could actually cook something edible for Jules and his guests.
    Wearily, she turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling once more. She could fret about the meal and her attempt to lure Jules to care for her, or she could get up and try to determine how to help herself.
    The thought was all the encouragement Claire needed. Her heart suddenly leaping with renewed purpose, she got out of bed, dressed carefully in a lavender gown she knew made her hair look more gold than red, and left her chamber.
    She also knew she should head downstairs, to the kitchen, and see to preparing some sort of meal for their guests to break their fast, but instead the silence of the house beckoned. Jules was outside with his male guests. Jane and Margaret were still abed. Now was the perfect time to explore the dark secrets of Kildare Manor. Not that she expected to find anything. Jules was far too clever for that.
    But another question had burned through her thoughts in the silence of the night. Why was she here? Obviously someone was manipulating both her and Jules, but to what end?
    Even in Edinburgh the stories of Jules MacIntyre poisoning his stepmother had spread through the gossip mills. The crime had supposedly happened in this very house. But if Jules had been exonerated of the crime, then who had murdered the woman?
    That question filled her thoughts as Claire reached for the candlestick near the hearth and lit the wick with the last remaining coals from the fire. Perhaps she could learn more about her husband from his home. There had to be traces from his past life here that still remained, things she could use to understand him better.
    Claire walked silently down the curling staircase, past the other bedchambers, to the staircase at the opposite end of the hall. The servants’ staircase would provide the access she needed with a modicum of stealth as the stairwell shifted behind the wall and into a passage where only the servants usually tread.
    The candle cut a pale yellow-gold swath through the darkness as she ascended the stairs. The ancient wood creaked beneath her feet. Claire flinched at each sound, but continued steadily forward. Her progress up the stairs was like entering a foreign land, revealing only a hint at a time of what lay ahead.
    At the top of the stairs she came to a passage that led back to the hallway with three doors on the right and one on the left. It was the door on the left that caught her attention. Barring the entrance were several pieces of wood in a crisscross pattern. Claire reached through the wood and found the latch. She tried the handle and was surprised when the door opened easily, despite the wooden deterrent.
    Obviously, the wood had been placed there with the hope of keeping others out. Claire hesitated as she bit down on her lip. Even though she was fairly certain Jules would be upset if he discovered her there, Claire gripped one of the boards at waist height and pulled until first one side of the board then the other came free. Setting the wood on the floor near the door, she bent over and peeked through the opening she had made.
    Her