Everlastin' Book 1 (4 page)

Masking her hesitation,
Carlene turned toward the door. “He's in Edinburgh on business.
This is lousy timing, kiddo, but I'm going to have to take off in a
little while to get him.”

“How far is
Edinburgh?”

Carlene reached for the
heaviest of the two suitcases in the hall, but Beth was quick to
take it in hand. Lifting the smaller one, Carlene started up the
stairs.

“It's a long drive, so we'll
probably stay at a B&B for the night—”

Speaking as she turned her
head to look at Beth, another sight caused her gasp.

Beth was on the second step
when she glanced over her shoulder. The instant she looked into the
face of the man standing at the bottom of the steps, she felt icy
fingers of fear clutch at her heart. She didn't know exactly what
caused this reaction, but a glance revealed Carlene frozen on the
sixth step.

“You're just in time to
carry Miss Staples' bags to her room,” Carlene said, her
authoritative tone strained. “Beth, this is the groundskeeper I
told you about.”

Beth looked again at the man
and detected a glint of expectancy in his nearly-black eyes. It
took her aback. He had a remarkable face, angles and ruggedness
that possessed a powerful magnetism to the female eye, hers no
exception. But when he tried to take the suitcase from her hand,
she stubbornly tightened her grip.

“I can manage, thank you,”
Beth said self-consciously.

“Swallow yer pride, lass,”
he chided, his eyes staring into hers with uncanny
boldness.

A vague sense of familiarity
touched Beth, planting the notion in her mind that she had known
this man in another life—which was absurd, since she didn't believe
in reincarnation, or anything remotely like it. But when he reached
out again for her suitcase, his hand brushed against her fingers,
causing a fey sensation of electricity to slither up her arm and
become lost behind her breasts. She somehow knew the contact had
been deliberate, his way of heightening her awareness of
him.

With a slow grin, he tugged
the suitcase from her grasp.

Beth looked down at her
empty hand then glanced up to see him crossing the second floor
landing to another set of stairs.

“You did say he was gruff.
Is he always so pushy?”

Carlene continued to look up
the stairs after the man. “At times he can be infuriating, but
he'll take good care of you after I leave.”

Beth's curiosity was
resigned to a lesser plane of importance by the time she reached
the third floor and followed Carlene through a set of French doors,
down another hall, and into one of the rooms on the
right.

Just beyond the threshold,
Beth stopped.

There was no sign of the
groundskeeper. Her suitcase was set atop a canopy bed of cherry
wood, carved with leaves and cherubs. Heavy, dark green velvet
draperies were tied at the posts. Through the matching drapes
hanging on two large windows, a colorful peacock, perched atop an
adjoining roof, craned its neck to peer at the occupants through
the French panes.

“This is
my
room?”

“Yep. Unless you don't care
for it.”

Entering the room, Beth
laughed and dropped her purse atop one of the oriental throw rugs
scattered on the highly polished wooden floor. “I love
it!”

Which was an
understatement.

Beth's face glowed as she
took in her surroundings. Two dressers and a wardrobe were also
made of cherry wood and stained a burnished red. Leaves and cherubs
were lavishly carved on each piece, as well as on an elaborate
vanity by another door leading to a private bathroom. All of the
pieces had marble tops. The wainscoting matched the furniture, the
wallpaper a rich cream tone with raised dark green velvet print. On
the wall across from the bed was a fieldstone fireplace with a
Victorian marble mantel. Set by the hearth was a picture frame
embroidery stand, a fire screen, bearing an unfinished cloth of a
country scene.

“It's so...beautiful,” Beth
beamed.

Carlene abruptly swept past
Beth and went to the door. “Explore the house. Help yourself to
anything you want.” Turning at the threshold, she offered Beth a
tremulous smile. “There's plenty of food in the ice box and
larder.” She reached up to indicate a light fixture on the wall.
“All the light fixtures operate on gas. The matches are on the
mantel. Light one then just turn this key. When you want the light
out, turn the key counter-clockwise and the gas shuts
off.”

“Do you have to leave right
away?”

“Yes. Lachlan will see to
the fires until David and I get back. Pull the cord by the bed and
he'll come right away.”

Beth felt a moment's panic
but smiled nonetheless. “What time do you think you'll get back
tomorrow?”

“I'm not sure.”

As Carlene began to close
the door, Beth asked, “Would you like company on the
drive?”

“N-no. You're tired, and
British cars are cramped.”

Beth opened her mouth to
tell Carlene she didn't mind the cramped quarters, or another
drive, but the door closed, cutting her off from her
friend.

Although caught up in a
moment of panic, she stopped herself from running after Carlene.
There was definitely something wrong.

Unless David and Carlene’d
had a squabble. Maybe Carlene was hoping the drive home would give
her the opportunity to smooth out matters before Beth became aware
of any problems between them.

It was a logical enough
possibility. But Beth could not shake a burgeoning sense of
foreboding.

Chapter 2

The hours faded by
unnoticed. Before Beth realized it, dusk was settling about Kist
House. She had explored nearly every room on the top two floors,
with two exceptions. The door was locked to the room directly
across from her bedroom, and fatigue stopped her from looking
beyond the stone newel staircase to the tower.

Descending the main
staircase in slow easy strides, she thought about making herself a
hot cup of tea and enjoying it while soaking in a hot bath—in her
private, Victorian claw foot tub. This brought a smile to her face
until she stepped down from the last stair and the absolute
stillness of the house closed in around her. A thin sheen of
perspiration broke out on her brow. An all too familiar tightness
settled in the back of her neck.

Not a migraine now,
she mutely groaned, gingerly massaging the
ache.

A shrill cry unlike anything
she had ever heard, razored the air. A squeal of surprise erupted
from her, and in the silence that followed she could feel the wild
thrumming of her heart rise in her throat. The front doors at the
end of the hall seemed to zoom in on her vision, then as quickly,
fall back into the far distance.

Pain drummed at her temples.
Once again she became overly conscious of the stifling stillness
within the walls. Air weighed heavily in her lungs. Her body
temperature rose. Breathing in hoarse spurts, she walked toward the
doors. Her passage through the greenhouse lessened the fever in
her. Passing through the last outer door, she stepped into the
cooling air of dusk, and slowly filled her lungs with it.
Surprisingly, there was a mist of rain, and she raised her face to
welcome its reviving chill.

The cry rang out
again.

She was about to dash back
into the house when a hand settled on her shoulder. Another squeal
was wrenched from her throat before she could stop it, and on
reflex, she slapped the broad chest coming around to her left. The
groundskeeper's face finally came into focus through the haze of
her vision.

“Don't
ever
do that again!” she shrilled,
shucking off the man's hand and stepping back two paces.

Lachlan chuckled low as he
raked his fingers through his thick shoulder-length hair. “Didna
mean to frighten the wits ou' o’ you, lass. I saw you give a start
at the call o’ the bird.”

“That horrible sound came
from a bird?”

“Old Braussaw.” Lachlan
pointed to a tall hedge. “There he is. See him?”

Beth strained to discern
something within the shadows of the closing daylight, but couldn't.
“I thought someone had run over a cat.”

“He's a paughty one, he is,”
he chuckled. “Peacocks truly have a terrible cry. You'll get used
to it.”

“How can anything so
beautiful, sound so awful?” she asked, still trying to locate the
bird.

Lachlan gave an airy shrug.
“They're maist vocal in the wee hours o’ the morn.”

“Wonderful. My blood feels
like ice.”

With a slow, utterly
charming smile, he tilted his head to one side and unabashedly
studied her features. “Tis no' so bad when you've been around them
a while.”

Beth tried to smile through
her taut facial muscles, but found she couldn't. The man's perusal
of her made her uncomfortable. When she had met him earlier,
standing two steps above him on the staircase, she hadn't noticed
how tall he was. She did now. He was well over six foot. The top of
her head barely reached his chin, and his broad shoulders were
nearly twice as wide as her own.

Heat swept from her soles to
her crown. It was all she could do not to fan herself with a
hand.

“Feelin’ the walls close in
on you?”

“No...well, a little.” Beth
tried to relax the tension in her body. “It's a bit spooky being
alone in such a large place.”

Lachlan nodded. To her
disbelief, he clasped one of her hands with his and gave her a
gentle tug. “Tha', too, will pass, in time. Come, lass. Tis a full
moon this night. I've a place to show you as it rises.”

“Well I....”

Beth's legs began to move of
their own volition, keeping in stride with the man's long gait. As
he led her away from the house, along a pathway to the east that
was thickly canopied by tree branches, she couldn't help but dwell
on his warm grasp. He had large, powerful hands. She'd noticed that
earlier when he'd taken her suitcase from her. His hold was gentle,
not the least threatening, but nonetheless, she felt intimidated by
the masculinity of him—and the ease by which he had stepped into
her life. He responded to her as if they had known one another for
a very long time.

The way through the hedges
and brush was growing ever darker, but he walked with a confidence
that bespoke of his familiarity with the property. He kept her
close to his side, like a protective lover. Traversing the path,
she couldn't help but ponder the anomaly of walking at night with a
man she didn't know. It made her realize how sheltered a life she'd
led. The years had simply passed by. She was almost thirty, and
hadn't dated since college.

“We're here,” Lachlan said
softly, almost in a reverent whisper. He came to a stop by a white,
four-foot corral-style fence, and drew Beth closer to his side.
“The moonlight blesses this field.”

Beth felt a fluttering
sensation in the pit of her stomach. The field, a farmhouse in the
far distance and the hills beyond were bathed in ethereal silver
light.

“Tis a sight to soothe the
soul, aye?”

“It's beautiful.”

“Aye. It has never had
competition, till you came.” Noting with wry amusement Beth's quick
glance of disapproval, he went on, “The Lauders live in the
farmhouse you see across the way. Eleven or mair generations have
lived on and worked this land.”

“Did they once own this
property, too?”

“Aye. Baird's offer to
purchase these forty-five acres came at a time when the Lauders
were in dire need o’ money.”

Lachlan smiled as he dipped
his head and his gaze caressed her features. “They liked the old
boy, appreciated his love and plans for this piece o’ their
history.”

The chill of the evening's
drizzle caused a shiver to pass through her. She was prepared to
ignore it when Lachlan stepped behind her and draped his arms about
her upper torso.

She stiffened out of
instinct.

“Hold yer indignancies,” he
chuckled by her ear. “I'm only tryin’ to keep the chill ou' o’
you.”

“I'm f-fine.”

“Aye, and the chatterin’ o’
yer teeth is really fairies dancin’ on the rocks yonder?
Relax.”

“I'd relax a lot better if
you weren't wrapped around me,” she bristled.

Lachlan sighed and rested
his chin atop the crown of her head. She thought to shove him away,
but his closeness did award her much needed warmth. And truth be
told, his closeness felt right. Wrong...yet
somehow...
right.

Jet lag.

“Wha' do you see when you
look across tha' field?”

She took a few seconds to
regulate her breathing. “Moonlight.”

“And?”

“Space. Openness.” She
sighed and she unknowingly leaned into him. “Incredible beauty and
serenity.”

“Aye, tis all tha' and
mair.