Everlastin' Book 1 (7 page)

“Tis a shock at first. He
was probably lookin’ in on you.”

Beth searched his face with
a question in her eyes.

“Wha' is it,
love?”

“Why would he look in on
me?”

With a low laugh, he kissed
the tip of her nose. “Ye're new here. He was probably curious. No'
much else for a ghost to do, you know.” He gestured with his right
arm as he went on, “Besides roamin’ the halls, moanin’ and
groanin’.”

“He moans and
groans?”

“No' really. Though he's
reputed to have a fine temper.”

Suddenly overly conscious of
Lachlan's proximity, Beth withdrew her arms from about him and
walked to the bed, where she kept her back to him. Nervously
running a hand through her hair, she said as lightly as she could
muster, “I'm all right, now. Thank you.”

“Tis a cool night,” he said,
coming up behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders. “We
could snuggle by a fire.”

“I'm really
tired.”

“Wary,” he countered evenly.
“Canna blame you. Me. Then Lannie. Tis a lot to adjust
to.”

Smiling, Beth turned and
met his teasing gaze.
“You
probably more than Lannie.”

“Och,” he chuckled, a hand
over his heart. “And here, darlin’, I was offerin’ to hold you
through the night.”

“I know exactly what you
were offering,” Beth said, the heat of a blush rushing up her face.
“Thank you, again. I'm glad you're just across the
hall.”

“Small comfort,
aye?”

Taking her hand, Lachlan was
about to kiss the palm when she jerked it away.

“Beth?”

“Oh God, I'm sorry! Your
hand was so cold, it startled me. I'm sorry.”

Lachlan's gaze lowered to
his hands. He flexed them, an unreadable expression shielding his
thoughts from her. Beth reached out and touched his arm. When he
looked up, she lowered the hand to her side.

“This is so embarrassing.
I'm not usually this jittery.”

A half smile tugged at one
corner of his mouth. “Strange land. Strange house. Strange mon. And
strange occurrences. I would say ye’re owed a bit o’ the jitters.
And I
am
cold. I
was ou’side. Tis rainin’.”

Whatever Beth expected, it
was not to find herself being drawn into his arms, drawn into a
kiss that easily melted her fears. Even his lips were cold, but the
kiss was warm, heating with every passing second, lulling her into
a state of blissful security. It felt natural to be in his embrace,
mastered by his kisses, as if somewhere deep in her subconscious,
she'd fantasized about just such a man.

When he ended the kiss, she
looked up at him with disappointment in her expressive
eyes.

“I may no' be here when you
wake in the morn. I'll get back to you as soon as
possible.”

“You're not going
away!”

He smiled disarmingly and
brushed the back of a hand beneath her chin. “No, darlin’. I've
things to do abou' the place. I wouldna leave yer side for a moment
unless need be.”

Beth nodded. “Hopefully,
Carlene and David will return early.”

“Hard to say. Sleep, lass.
Tis been a long day for you.”

“Certainly one I'll never
forget.”

“One good thing abou'
Lannie's visit,” he said, a teasing lilt in his tone, his eyes
sparkling. “Now I know tis no' the moonlight tha' makes you
glow.”

Again Beth blushed, and she
gave a light shove to his chest. “Good night, Lachlan.”

“You sure this
time?”

She nodded with a gleam of
mischief in her own eyes. “I think you've chased away the boogie
man.”

“Might be, lass, I could
call him back.”

“Ha-ha, cute. Good
night.”

With a low laugh, he planted
a quick kiss on her cheek. “Dream o’ me, darlin’.”

After the door closed behind
him, Beth got beneath the covers and lowered her head to the
pillows. Wrapped in a dreamy state, she stared unseeingly up at the
ceiling, unaware the candle on the mantel was nearly burned out.
Beyond the windows, she could hear a breeze swaying the tree tops,
branches scratching against the side of the house, against the
single-glassed panes.

Her lips tingled in memory
of his kiss. The blood flowing through her veins was very
warm.

Thick eyelashes lowered on
her flushed cheeks.

“No...it wasn't the
moonlight,” she murmured with a faint smile. “Thank you, Lannie.
But next time, give me some warning.”

Rolling onto her side, she
nested a cheek into one of the plump pillows. Sleep fell upon her
quickly.

Unbeknown to her, the mist
returned, hovering by her bedside, watching, ever
vigilant.

It had never been Lannie's
intention to frighten her.

Quite the
opposite.

C
hapter 3

A restless night's sleep had
Beth up before the crack of dawn. She took a hot, leisurely soak in
the tub, dressed, and opted for a cup of tea for breakfast. After
fidgeting about the kitchen for some time, she took an apple from a
basket on one of the counters then left the house.

Bright sunlight greeted her,
as well as several cries from the peacocks. The air was cooler than
it had been upon her arrival yesterday, a slight breeze frolicking
amid the manicured grounds. Everywhere she looked, the birds sat
perched, watching her, eyeing her as if wary of her presence. It
would always amaze her how such extraordinarily beautiful creatures
could be so gratingly vocal, especially in the early hours of the
morning.

It was late morning by the
time she tired of meandering the grounds and inspecting the gardens
to the south. She was on her way back to the house when the smaller
structure captured her notice.

The carriage house proved to
be delightful, owning of a cot, small dresser, and a two-seater
carriage, the design of which told her it was definitely of the
last century, although to look at it, she could not find a scratch
or worn spot.

The white-washed walls of
the opened room sported all sorts of harnesses, whips, and reins.
She took down one of the whips and gingerly tested it. She couldn't
imagine anyone actually using such a thing on a horse. It felt
heavy in her hand. Almost sinister. But as she flexed her fingers
on the leather-bound handle, she felt a thrill of power. Daringly,
she gave a firm snap of her wrist. The tip of the lash cracked
ominously close to her chin.

Replacing it on its hook,
she chose instead to run her fingertips over the other
items.

The musky smell of leather
filled her nostrils. Inhaling deeply, she made a slow appraisal of
the room then headed out the double doors.

She looked up at the cry of
a peacock. Perched on the highest peak, it looked down at her and
ruffled its feathers. A smile turned up the corners of her mouth.
Then she sighed as she glanced at the front door of the main house.
There was so little to do to pass away the time more quickly.
Certainly not housework. Everything in the place was spotless. The
gardens were weed-free. Perfection. She wasn't used to being idle,
not after eight years of catering to her mother's every need. Then,
there had hardly been time to curl up and read a book. Always so
much to do.

A pensive frown creasing her
brow, she strolled to the east side of the property, where the
largest of the rose gardens created a low-walled maze. Bees zipped
from flower to flower, their seemingly over-zealous buzzing giving
her pause to get too close. Until one particular section zoomed in
on her awareness.

Pale purple
roses.

Folding her legs beneath
her, she settled comfortably on the ground.

Memories
surfaced.

Shortly before her mother's
death, Beth had planted a row of similar rose bushes along the
fenceline across from her mother's bedroom window. The roses,
Rita's favorite flower, had been intended for her to enjoy. But she
had died before the first blossom had opened.

“Life never goes as we
expect it to,” Beth said sadly, running a finger along the edge of
one of the soft petals. “I wish....” Tears welled up in her eyes,
but she fought them back. “You didn't deserve to suffer, Ma. I did
everything I could. But it wasn't enough, was it?”

Her chin
quivered.

“As many times as I wanted
to end your pain, I couldn't bring myself to.... The anger and
frustration I read in your eyes will always haunt me. Forgive me.
Please, forgive me.”

In place of her heart, an
enormous ache thrummed and, despite the control she'd mastered over
the years, a sob escaped her.

A movement close by gave her
a start.

She looked up. The heaviness
that had been building in her chest waned at the sight of Lachlan
sitting alongside her.

“Good morning,” she managed
with a halfhearted smile.

“Tis a heart-wrenchin’ sound
you make, Beth. Wha's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“I've a broad shoulder to
cry on.”

A strained laugh escaped
her. “Why would anyone wish to cry on such a beautiful
morning?”

“Hmm. Somethin' tells me
you've held in yer feelin's too long.”

Choosing not to respond to
his uncanny ability to delve into her psyche, she gazed absently at
the purple roses.

“Did you manage to
sleep?”

“Yes.” Drawing in a
fortifying breath, she added, “The bed is very
comfortable.”

“Hmm. And here I thought I'd
detected shadows beneath yer eyes.”

Beth swiped the side of a
hand above her cheeks. “It's probably a residue of
mascara.”

“Tha' black goop women
plaster on their eyes?” He chuckled deep in his throat then crooked
a thumb beneath her chin and turned her face to his scrutiny.
“Ye're a melancholy lass. Tell me wha's troublin' you.”

An attempt to smile failed.
“It's nothing. Really.”

“No' jet lag?”

“It could be,” she defended
evenly, a twinkle of amusement coming to life in her eyes. But then
a cloud of unease passed over her features and she shivered as she
scanned the roses surrounding her.

“Wha' is it?”

“The bees.”

“Wha' abou'
them?”

“There were hundreds of them
moments ago. They're gone.”

Lachlan glanced about him.
“Your sobbin' sent them off in a fit o’ despair,” he
quipped.

Lowering her head, Beth
chuckled. “It wasn't
that
bad.”

“Took the heart ou' o’
me.”

Beth found herself looking
into his eyes. Even out here in the bright sunlight, she could not
discern his irises. His fair skin made his eyes appear darker,
fathomless. When he smiled crookedly, her attention was drawn to
his mouth. The right groove in his cheek deepened.

You are one dangerous man,
Lachlan,
she thought.
What kind of lover are you?
Before she
could suppress it, a sigh escaped her.

“I understand yer mither
died no' long ago,” he said casually, although the intensity in his
eyes warned Beth that he knew what had brought on her tears. “You
took care o’ her for a long time. Eight years, I
understand.”

“
Yes.” She pointedly
focused on the roses in front of her. “It began with heart
problems. Later, she suffered with cancer.”

“Couldna the
doctors—”

“No.” Beth spared him a
quick glance. “She would have suffered as much in the hospital. She
wanted to die at home.”

“Was tha' fair to
you?”

Beth stiffened, the fire in
her eyes warning him the subject was taboo. “What has fair got to
do with anything?”

“Ye're bitter,
lass.”

Jumping to her feet, Beth
irritably smoothed her calf-length skirt. She stared down at his
upturned face, resentment lending her a strained, gaunt look. “I'm
not bitter. I took care of her because I wanted to.”

When Lachlan rose to his
feet, she continued to glare at him. “I may not have had your
carefree life, Lachlan, but I certainly don't regret—”

“Hold it! I said you could
cry on ma shoulder, no' take ou' yer frustration on me.”

Beth clenched her hands by
her sides. It was rare anything made her angry, but she was now,
the emotion like lava behind her breast. “Then mind your own damn
business in the future,” she flung and walked away.

Thorny hedges blocked her
escape, slowing her, fueling her raw emotions. Although she could
see her way out of the maze, her every attempt failed. Thorns
snagged her cotton skirt. The fragrance of the roses became
sickeningly overwhelming. Becoming blinded by her burdensome
frustration, she stopped and clenched her hands once
again.

Labored breaths roared in
her ears.