curiosity. “No, I havenae heard o’ them.”
“Oh,” I said. I’d been hoping for something more. Minory was almost identical to Minary and a possible lead in my research.
She smiled down at me, her usual demeanor returned. “Take a look at the library. That and the castles will have historical documents ye can look through. More tea?” she asked.
I nodded. “I’ll do that. Thanks for your help, Carol.” It still felt like there was something she was avoiding, though. “Is everything OK?”
“Oh, ’tis nothing dear.” She smiled nervously. “Only, the library is located just outside o’ town on Viewfield Road. I’d hate for ye tae get lost, bein’ that ye are my guest and all.” She stopped, then added hastily, “But if I were ye, I would not say I was daein’ research on Minory to anyone who’s a MacLaoch. And whatever ye do, don’t go to Castle Laoch and mention it either. Castle Laoch is owned by the MacLaochs, ye see?”
Whoa , I thought. “OK, Carol, I won’t, but how will I know if they’re a Mac—”
“Now there’s a good girl!” She interrupted me by giving my hand a pat. “Ye enjoy the rest o’ your breakfast and give me a shout if ye need anything more.” With that, she bustled from the room, leaving me to stare at the empty space where she had been standing.
CHAPTER 5
T he brisk walk to the library was just that, brisk. It was a standard Scottish day, according to Carol—overcast with the threat of rain and a high of 12 degrees Celsius (54 degrees Fahrenheit). I felt the two cups of tea I’d had with my breakfast, their caffeine as well as their warmth. My heart seemed to be fluttering in my chest by the time I walked down the stairs to the basement of the library, where the historical document room was located.
A long, oak reception counter stood in front of the rows and rows of files and books that took up the entirety of the library basement. A man was talking to an older woman in a cardigan and glasses behind the counter. I gazed about as I waited my turn. To my right was a study table and beyond that, against the wall, an antiquated computer and microfiche machine. The air was cool and filled with the distinctive smell of old paper I had imagined. I knew that within the shelves behind the woman at the counter there would be something, at least one thing, even a tiny clue, that would tell me about my ancestry. My excitement peaked, making my insides jittery—or was it still just the full effect of Carol’s tea? When I looked back at the counter, it was my turn.
The woman turned out to be the Deloris, and we connected right away. I learned she had been with the library since she was old enough to pick up a book, her mother having been the librarian before. Eventually we came around to the subject of why I was there.
She didn’t even blink an eye. “Ye know, that name sounds just like Minory. Are ye quite certain that it isnae Minory?”
“Not 100 percent, no. Do you know anything about the Minory lineage?”
“Oh aye, big legend around that one. Best ye go have a look-see for yourself tomorrow at Clan MacLaoch’s castle and visitor center when it’s open. The MacLaochs have a long history that includes the Minorys. Castle Laoch has been in that family for over eight hundred years. Matter of fact, the clan is still together. On its thirty-fourth chieftain now,” Deloris said, clearly impressed. “Castle Laoch is not but a couple kilometers. Ye could walk there if the weather is fair. This time in May ’tis hit and miss, aye? Oh!” she said, as if just remembering, and nodded toward the door. “The man who was just in ’ere is the MacLaoch clan chieftain, and he could tell ye a thing or two about the Minorys, I’ll tell ye that.”
“A chieftain?” I said, thinking of old photos of American Indian chiefs, bare-chested, with feathered headdresses.
“We only have documentation that starts in the 1850 s,” Deloris said, ignoring my comment, “and
“Oh,” I said. I’d been hoping for something more. Minory was almost identical to Minary and a possible lead in my research.
She smiled down at me, her usual demeanor returned. “Take a look at the library. That and the castles will have historical documents ye can look through. More tea?” she asked.
I nodded. “I’ll do that. Thanks for your help, Carol.” It still felt like there was something she was avoiding, though. “Is everything OK?”
“Oh, ’tis nothing dear.” She smiled nervously. “Only, the library is located just outside o’ town on Viewfield Road. I’d hate for ye tae get lost, bein’ that ye are my guest and all.” She stopped, then added hastily, “But if I were ye, I would not say I was daein’ research on Minory to anyone who’s a MacLaoch. And whatever ye do, don’t go to Castle Laoch and mention it either. Castle Laoch is owned by the MacLaochs, ye see?”
Whoa , I thought. “OK, Carol, I won’t, but how will I know if they’re a Mac—”
“Now there’s a good girl!” She interrupted me by giving my hand a pat. “Ye enjoy the rest o’ your breakfast and give me a shout if ye need anything more.” With that, she bustled from the room, leaving me to stare at the empty space where she had been standing.
CHAPTER 5
T he brisk walk to the library was just that, brisk. It was a standard Scottish day, according to Carol—overcast with the threat of rain and a high of 12 degrees Celsius (54 degrees Fahrenheit). I felt the two cups of tea I’d had with my breakfast, their caffeine as well as their warmth. My heart seemed to be fluttering in my chest by the time I walked down the stairs to the basement of the library, where the historical document room was located.
A long, oak reception counter stood in front of the rows and rows of files and books that took up the entirety of the library basement. A man was talking to an older woman in a cardigan and glasses behind the counter. I gazed about as I waited my turn. To my right was a study table and beyond that, against the wall, an antiquated computer and microfiche machine. The air was cool and filled with the distinctive smell of old paper I had imagined. I knew that within the shelves behind the woman at the counter there would be something, at least one thing, even a tiny clue, that would tell me about my ancestry. My excitement peaked, making my insides jittery—or was it still just the full effect of Carol’s tea? When I looked back at the counter, it was my turn.
The woman turned out to be the Deloris, and we connected right away. I learned she had been with the library since she was old enough to pick up a book, her mother having been the librarian before. Eventually we came around to the subject of why I was there.
She didn’t even blink an eye. “Ye know, that name sounds just like Minory. Are ye quite certain that it isnae Minory?”
“Not 100 percent, no. Do you know anything about the Minory lineage?”
“Oh aye, big legend around that one. Best ye go have a look-see for yourself tomorrow at Clan MacLaoch’s castle and visitor center when it’s open. The MacLaochs have a long history that includes the Minorys. Castle Laoch has been in that family for over eight hundred years. Matter of fact, the clan is still together. On its thirty-fourth chieftain now,” Deloris said, clearly impressed. “Castle Laoch is not but a couple kilometers. Ye could walk there if the weather is fair. This time in May ’tis hit and miss, aye? Oh!” she said, as if just remembering, and nodded toward the door. “The man who was just in ’ere is the MacLaoch clan chieftain, and he could tell ye a thing or two about the Minorys, I’ll tell ye that.”
“A chieftain?” I said, thinking of old photos of American Indian chiefs, bare-chested, with feathered headdresses.
“We only have documentation that starts in the 1850 s,” Deloris said, ignoring my comment, “and
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