The Last Waltz

Chapter 2

Poppy was sitting at her favorite corner table in the local pub. She liked to go for a drink every evening because it allowed her to meet all the locals. She hadn't asked around about her family yet, but when the time came, if they knew her, they might be more willing to share the information that they knew.

She had been in the local burgh of Rippon, which was named after her mother's family, for a month, and it had given her a chance to get the lay of the land. She found the locals to be reserved but welcoming, and the longer she stayed and got to know them, the more accepting they were of her.

On the nights she was lonely or upset, she would take her sketchbook, draw bar patrons, and then give them their drawings. It opened the door to conversation, and everyone was pleased to see her when she arrived, especially when she was carrying her sketchbook.

Tonight, she was agitated. Her interaction with the laird was still weighing heavily on her, and if she did find a way into the castle, Poppy didn't doubt he'd kick her back out again. Her hand angrily sketched his face on the page in front of her. She took a sip of her beer and considered her drawing before she drew an evil skull cap, pointy ears, and sharp teeth, slowly turning him into a goblin. Maybe she would put him in one of her stories. The thought made her smile mischievously.

"What's that smile all about?" Ayleen, the pub owner, asked as she sat down Poppy's hot meal in front of her.

"Just brainstorming for my next story," she said as she picked up a fry and bit into it.

Ayleen looked down at her drawing and considered it. "That looks suspiciously like the local laird?" Her eyebrow lifted as she looked at Poppy.

She was a young woman in her mid-thirties with brunette hair cut into a sleek bob. Her makeup was artfully done, and the tight jeans and tailored button-down shirts showed off her trim figure. Her husband, Roy, always worked at the bar while she worked the floor. They had another waitress, Davina, who helped, but Poppy hadn't seen him in a few days.

"Oh, it is." Poppy grinned, and Ayleen smiled back.

"When did you meet him?" She looked at the drawing again.

"Today, he caught me talking with his niece on his land." Poppy grew the eyebrows until they were one. It needed color.

Ayleen frowned. "That doesn't sound like him. He generally doesn't get upset when the local kids wander into his woods."

"Perhaps it's because I'm not local. Either way, he escorted me off his property and ordered me never to return or talk to Mary again." Poppy leaned back and took a sip of her beer. "I don't mind him kicking me off his property, even though I did want to tour the castle. I asked, but he said no."

"You asked when he was already mad at you?" Roy asked across the small space.

Poppy looked up and realized that the entire pub had gone quiet and was listening to the conversation. She blushed a little and grinned again.

"My parents always said I had trouble reading a room." A few people chuckled as she shrugged. "I'm not a shy person."

"We never would have guessed," a younger man named Billy called, and Poppy lifted her beer to him at his easy teasing.

"Anyway, he told me to take a tour, but it's sold out for months. I'm most upset about his ordering me not to talk to Mary again. I have a feeling she is lonely and wants someone to talk to."

"She is lonely, and so is her brother Peter," Ayleen agreed. "Their parents died in a plane crash about 18 months ago. Their mother, Molly, was Isaac's sister. It's history repeating itself." She shook her head and moved away, and the conversation started back up.