When Clark's carriage stopped at the manor gate, the sky was just beginning to lighten.
It was a heavy fog on a November morning in Scotland.
Dr. Clark pushed open the carriage door, and the cold wind instantly poured in, carrying the scent of grass and earth, along with the damp chill carried from the distant mountains.
He pulled up the collar of his coat and looked up at the mansion hidden in the morning mist.
The Hastings family estate was larger than he had imagined, and older too.
The vines on the stone walls had already withered, softly trembling in the wind.
The boots crunched on the gravel, making a slight sound.
The fog was thick, obscuring the distance, and he could only see a person standing under the porch.
The manor had been informed of Clark's arrival yesterday, and the elderly butler had been waiting for some time.
Clark walked up the steps, and the old butler came forward, bowing slightly: "Court Physician Sir James Clark?"
