Читать книгу The Magic Ring of Brodgar онлайн
Before her, stood an extraordinarily beautiful castle. Its last renovation was completed in 1768. Over the centuries, the interior decor changed and improved with the latest technologies, while the exterior maintained its historical appearance, as depicted in pictures and postcards dedicated to medieval Scotland.
The castle was perched on a hill, offering breathtaking views of cliffs and mountains stretching into the North Sea. The magnificent green landscape extended for miles around. The estate was meticulously maintained, Megan noted immediately. Near the massive entrance door stood the manager, observing Megan intently.
“Good evening, Gregor!” she greeted, eyeing the tall, lean middle-aged man in a formal grey suit. He was exactly as her grandfather had described in his stories. Gregor's face seemed impassive and even stern, perhaps due to his thinness and lack of smile.
“Good evening, Miss. Welcome.”
Malcolm had greatly valued the estate manager for his impeccable manners, respectfulness, discretion, and cool, calculated intellect. He was one of those individuals who spoke little but listened much. When the distillery faced a downturn, it was Gregor who secured lucrative contracts with partners. Now, he was in charge of communication with the main whiskey buyers, working in tandem with Megan's cousin Warren, whom Malcolm had recently involved in the business affairs.
Gregor took two suitcases from Mr. Douglas and led the way inside.
As Megan entered the mansion through the grand doors, she paused, taking in the interior with interest, which blended modernity with history. The original stone walls were adorned with numerous hunting trophies.
“Deer hunting has long been considered a noble pursuit for true gentlemen, such as your grandfather,” Mr. Douglas explained, noticing Megan's surprised examination of the hall's unique decor.
“Are there bears around here?” Megan inquired warily, noticing a bear skin by the fireplace.
The manager smiled at her question, “No, that skin was a gift to your grandfather from an American hunter, an old friend of his.”