The Prisoner of Chillon and Scattered Short Stories Read online

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  Historically, Scone ranks among the most important Scottish castles, for it was there in 1328 that Robert the Bruce was crowned the first king of a united Scotland. The stone upon which that rite was held still stands on a small hill overlooking the castle - only feet from a utility access panel that leads directly into the tunnel system beneath Scone.

  Harry was entering that tunnel with his three companions from the electric company. Meanwhile, only meters above him, Dean Westerfield and Lynn Peterson were driving down toward the castle, through the parking lot thronging with tourists, and to the security post guarding the private driveway and car lot.

  “Good day, sir,” the guard halted them.

  “Hello, I’m Dean Westerfield, the art curator from Yale. This is my grad student, Lynn Peterson.” They handed the guard their passports.

  “Mr. Westerfield, the Duke has been expecting you. It is a pleasure to have you here, sir. Drive right in and there’s a space to park on the right.” He smiled and pulled the gates open.

  A butler to make Americans either laugh or drool greeted them as they stepped out of their beautiful, shiny car. “Good afternoon, sir, miss. The Duke is waiting for you inside.” Maggie reached into the trunk to take out her bags but a footman stopped her. “They will take your luggage to the guest suites, miss. Please, follow me.”

  Once inside, they turned two corners and were introduced to the Duke, whose family still owned the castle that was such a national historic landmark. “Mr. Westerfield, I’m delighted to see you. I’ve read all about your research. And this is. . .”

  “Lynn Peterson, my graduate student. She’ll be assisting me with the evaluation.”

  The Duke bowed and kissed Maggie’s hand. “Miss Peterson, it is indeed a pleasure to have you as our guest.”

  “The pleasure is all mine,” gushed Maggie, who glanced at Dean with a lucky smile. She beamed at the Duke and was thoroughly flattered. Dean Westerfield bowed his head and rolled his eyes. She fixed her hair as the Duke turned to lead them into an adjoining sitting room.

  “Unfortunately, I have some urgent business to attend to in town, so I will leave you to the care of the finest replacement I could find. She is the daughter of the Duke of Argyll and, although having just graduated from Cambridge with a degree in molecular biology, I have heard that she has quite an interest in art history. Mr. Westerfield, Miss Peterson, allow me to introduce Lady Jennifer of Argyll.” He nodded to them all and soon left the room with an aide.

  A tall, rosy cheeked young girl seemed to step out at them from within the pages of a Jane Austen novel. Dean Westerfield betrayed a smirk in Maggie’s direction as he advanced to kiss her hand. Lady Jennifer curtseyed with a wide, but gentle smile. “Sir, it is an honor to have you here.” She turned to Maggie. “Miss Peterson,” she reached out her long tapered fingers toward Lynn Peterson and Maggie responded with a hurried and rough shake of the hand. “Please, let’s sit down.”

  “Thank you, my lady, it is a pleasure to be here.” Dean Westerfield reclined in a soft leather chair and sipped at the lemonade brought to him. “Lynn Peterson here is my graduate student. She is developing her expertise in the field of British art history.”

  “That is your field of study primarily, sir?”

  “Yes, most of my research has been a series of roamings across the British Isles.”

  “Then you must have had a quite pleasant time doing your research, no?” She laughed. “Well, my knowledge of art, although quite simplistic yet, is also within this sphere, although more in the field of paintings than vases.”

  “The Duke mentioned that you just completed your studies at Cambridge in a quite different field.”

  “Oh, yes. Art and music, especially the violin, is merely a hobby to me. Something to keep me occupied while I’m not in the laboratory.”

  “Well, I think you will find my investigations here to be very interesting to you in both fields of thought. While the paper mache vases held here at Scone are a great triumph in the field of artistic development, the makeup of the polish that makes them look so staggeringly like porcelain is a great mystery for chemical analysis as well.”

  “Then you will be happy to hear of my readings in the field of polymers as stains which I began upon hearing of your visit.”

  Maggie smiled. “Then you are truly prepared to help us achieve our mission in coming here? I am sure you as well will be surprised by the results.”

  Lady Jennifer nodded. “Oh, I’m sure I will. My research has proven that your task will, however, be a difficult one. There are many similar stains that could, by their covalent bonding properties and molecular geometry achieve such results.”

  “Lynn here has been looking through old chemistry texts from college to freshen up her knowledge.”

  “Very good!” Lady Jennifer beamed. “It will do you great service. Did you study at Yale?”

  “Yes, I got my bachelor’s there in Art History. I’m afraid that except for intro chem., I didn’t really do much science.”

  Lady Jennifer laughed. “After intro anywhere, I can’t really blame you. Well, sir, when do you start?”

  “As soon as possible. I think I’ll stop up at the guest suite to get some equipment and then,” he glanced at Maggie, “it’s time to examine the target of this visit.”