Dalhousie Castle
“Everything’s ready for you … downstairs,” an attendant says as we sit around in the library of Dalhousie Castle, the ancient, supposedly haunted Scottish fortress that is now one of Britain’s most elegant small hotels.
It sounds ominous; the sort of thing a matinee-movie medieval torturer might say, just before the hero is dragged below, strapped to the rack and introduced to the red-hot pokers.
Dungeon delights
So we clatter down the stone stairs and emerge into a torture-chamber straight out of old Hollywood: there’s a vaulted ceiling; a few sinister crevices just perfect for housing whips and thumbscrews; a ghostly suit of armour; a collection of battle-axes displayed in a jaunty fan arrangement on one wall
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