Fear Familiar Bundle (103 page)

"I have to go to the kitchen," Mary said, following him, anyway. He was acting so strange, and the idea that he, too, might show another personality change, made her loath to ignore him. "Well, just for a moment I'll indulge you."

The cat immediately increased his pace. He didn't even pause at the back door but pushed it open and slipped into the night.

The idea of stepping back into the cold made Mary shiver, yet she didn't stop. She had to get Familiar back inside. It was a foul night out, not fit for man or cat. Searching the courtyard, she caught sight of him headed toward the stables. He stopped in a pool of light and looked back at her, as if waiting for her to follow.

"Okay," she said, hurrying after him. "But you'd better have a good reason for this."

At the barn, Familiar waited again. Mary caught up with him and was about to speak when she heard voices in earnest conversation. Something about the tone made her stop, and when she heard William's name, she listened.

"I'm going to tell William." It was Kevin who spoke, and he was agitated.

"Wait, Kevin. This isn't the time. William is not well." John Connery's voice was worn with weariness. "I've been trying to tell you for the past two months, this is something that will require time, patience, regard for everyone involved."

"If it's true, then we both have a right to know. We can't go on pretending."

"You're upset, and I understand." John's voice was strained.

"For two months I've waited, first for William to come home so I could discuss this with him, and now for the proper time. I can see there won't ever be a good time to bring up this subject. In the meantime, everything continues right along— he's the heir to Mayfair, and I'm the trainer at his stables." Kevin's anger grew. "That may well be the case, but if what you've told me is true, then some portion of Mayfair is mine."

In the darkness outside the door, Mary felt the blood drain from her face. What was Kevin saying?

"Abby and I have loved you like our own son," John said. "I didn't want her to tell you about Joanna, but she felt that you had a right to your chance of a heritage. I was afraid that if things didn't work out, it would make you bitter, angry. You're too fine a man to live the rest of your life feeling cheated, Kevin. Promise that whatever happens, you won't let this spoil your life."

"What are my legal rights? I've waited long enough to find out."

Kevin's question sent a chill down Mary's spine. It wasn't what he was asking, but the way he was asking it. Mayfair was incredibly important to William, and he would brook no threat against it, not even from a kinsman.

"You'll have to find a solicitor to tell you that. There are tests to prove blood kinships, I'm sure. We'll have to find your mother."

"And where is my dear sweet mum?"

Mary had never heard such bitterness.

"The last we heard, she'd emigrated to Australia, Kevin. Now you can't go blaming her. She was a child herself, and infatuated with William's father."

"So Lord MacEachern continued with the family tradition of seducing the servants, taking advantage of a young maid." Kevin spat the sentence out. "'Tis a fine inheritance."

"It wasn't that way," John said, his voice anguished. "Such bitterness, Kevin, will be the ruin of you. Joanna was a young girl. Young and foolish, but not mean or cruel. She was as bright as a ray of sunshine, but she was obsessed with William's father. She made up her mind to have him, and I do believe she did. When she became pregnant, he offered to help her. But she left during the dead of night. Six months later, we found you on the stoop of the cottage with a note from Joanna."

"Thrown away like an old shoe."

At that, John laughed. "Hardly. Joanna knew that Abby and I wanted a child more than anything in the world. We couldn't have any. She found you the best home that could ever have been."

Kevin's sigh was audible. "That she did," he said. "I've never gone a day without feeling the love of you both."

"Keep that in mind, Kevin, and bide your time awhile. William is in a bad position. He's under pressure to marry, as you well know. Should he fail in that regard, it will be a real donnybrook in the courts to see who owns Mayfair. As it is, he's been gone for many years, and has much catching up to do. But he seems to be a fair man. Give him a chance to hear your story and see if he isn't willing to settle fairly with you."

"And what of Erick?"

"If William marries, as the trust decrees, Erick will have little to say what becomes of Mayfair."

"And that's justice!" Kevin's tone was angry once again. "Who's worked these last years to keep William's heritage together for him?"

"That's nothing to do with William or Erick. That's the way it's always been at Mayfair. And the way it will continue, I'm sure. First born is heir, as long as he meets the obligations. If William fails, then Erick will have his chance."

"And me?"

"Even with Erick there's no guarantee that you'll be recognized. It would seem you'd be next in line to inherit, if your bloodline could be proven. But that's neither here nor there. William will marry, and he will meet the conditions of the trust.

"Let him settle in and make his plans. There's time aplenty to decide the matter of your parents. I believe he'll be fair with you, Kevin. He was always a lonely child, but one with a good heart. He often shared his tea and biscuits with me because he had no other playmates, except for Darren, when that lad could escape from the clutches of his mother." John sighed. "Now there's a sad case. It's a wonder that boy can even think straight. Warped, he should be. To this day, he follows his mother like a shadow."

"There was Erick," Kevin reminded John.

"No, Erick didn't come to Mayfair until William was sent away to school. 'Tis a pity they never learned to know one another. It would have made all of this easier in the long run, this handing down of the estate."

"It's a cruel method. Mayfair should go to the one best able to work it."

"Even that's not a proven case, Kevin. William's mettle has not been tested."

"Not yet. My claim will come as a shock to the new lord."

"Maybe, maybe not," John said wisely. "Give it a chance. Now stop driving your mother wild with worry and anxiety. You were completely happy and content with your work and the horses until we told you. Look on this as a chance of fortune, a hand of cards."

"Ignorance is bliss." But the irony of his voice was cut with a fine edge of humor.

"Indeed it is, Kevin. Now back to bed with you. I heard Erick say that he's going to bring in the three-year-olds tomorrow. Are there any with promise?"

"Indeed." Enthusiasm had returned to Kevin's voice, and he sounded like the man Mary had grown to trust as her riding instructor.

Mary picked up the cat and scampered back across the courtyard before she was caught eavesdropping. Her head was reeling with everything she'd learned. Kevin might be William's half-brother! And William didn't have a clue. How would he react? And how would Erick react to such news?

The intricacies of the MacEachern trust were unknown to Mary, but she could see the potential complications. Legal as well as emotional. Although she'd never met William's father, it was strange to think of him having an affair with one of the servants. William's depiction of his father was of a cold man not given to bouts of temptation or emotion. Certainly not an affair with one of the maids.

She went to the kitchen and hurriedly put the kettle on for the tea. Familiar took a seat at the heavy oak table and began to lick his paws.

"You're a mighty sly puss," Mary said, remembering the way he'd grabbed her leg and practically dragged her to the barn.

"Meow." Familiar went back to his grooming.

"What did you find on the third floor?"

"Meow." Familiar stopped licking his foot. He shifted to a sitting position and looked around the kitchen. With a quick hop, he landed on the floor and went to the refrigerator.

"How about something to eat?" Mary asked as she poured the hot water and covered the pot to allow the tea to draw.

"Meow."

She obligingly opened the refrigerator door and motioned for Familiar to indicate his desire.

The cat sniffed the air and put his paw on a small covered dish near the bottom.

Lifting the dish out, Mary uncovered it. "Custard." She realized she was starving. She'd had nothing to eat, nor had William, except for one or two of the pecan biscuits Abby had brought with the tea.

"Good idea." She put a portion on a plate for the cat and then divided the rest into three glass dessert dishes for herself, William, and Dr. Sloan. It had been a long night for all of them.

She left Familiar munching away and returned to the library. Knocking lightly, she entered to find William agreeing to a series of tests at the local hospital. The idea made her blood run cold, but it also gave her a ray of hope. Medical experts could certainly find out what was happening with William. Once he was diagnosed, then surely a cure could be found. Or a priest called to exorcise his demons!

She served the custard and the tea to the thanks of both William and the doctor.

"I'll bid you good-night," Dr. Sloan said soon after, snapping his bag shut. "I'll see you Monday at the hospital." He stood. "If there are any more of these incidents, I'll expect to see you before then."

"You will," Mary assured him. "William is hardheaded, but this time I believe he sees how necessary it is to clear up this matter."

"I do," William said. "Mary and I plan to marry. The sooner all of this is over, the sooner we can begin to make our plans."

"Now that's a smart decision."

Mary walked the doctor to the front door. She was bursting to tell William what she'd heard at the barn, but it really wasn't her place. If Kevin was his half-brother, she did not need to interfere. They would have to work out their own relationship, and much of that would be determined by Kevin when he chose to tell William. She could only keep her fingers crossed that both men would act with compassion toward one another.

Familiar suddenly reappeared at her side as she went back to the library. To her astonishment, William was sound asleep in front of the fire. He'd lain down on the sofa and pulled the blankets over him. His face registered a weariness that made Mary sit beside him a moment and examine his features.

With his clean jaw and high cheekbones, he was a handsome man. She could see the blood of his ancestors in him. Anyone looking at the gallery of MacEachern paintings in the hallways of Mayfair could find more than a dozen likenesses of her fiancé. The MacEachern genes were strong, and they were undeniable between William and Slaytor.

And Kevin? His hair was lighter, his skin more olive and his eyes brown rather than gray. But his hair was thick, his face square and his eyes wide-spaced and kind. He could be a MacEachern.

He also could not.

"Heaven help you," she whispered to William as she stroked his face lightly. "I'll leave you here to sleep." There seemed no reason to wake him. He was exhausted. She looked around, but there was no place where she could comfortably rest. He was home, in Mayfair. He'd be fine if she left him to go to her room and catch a few hours herself.

She stood, tucking her hand into the pocket of her jeans as she did so. She felt the ring, forgotten in the madness of the night. Pulling it out into the light, she was dazzled once again by the brilliance of the emerald and the setting of the ring.

Acting as Slaytor MacEachern, William had left the ring at her door. She'd give it back to him the next day. It was a family heirloom, and one William should keep until they were well and truly wed.

"Come along, Familiar," she said, motioning the cat to follow her. "It's time for bed."

Together they made it up the stairs. On a hunch, Mary decided to check on Sophie. Her friend had slept through the harrowing evening, and it was just as well.

Tapping lightly on the door, she called Sophie's name.

When there was no answer, she tapped harder. Worried, Mary tried the door. It opened readily, and she stepped into the suite her friend had chosen.

At first she thought the bed was empty, but on second glance, she saw a poorly defined lump beneath the thick covers.

"Sophie?"

Mary advanced. Before she could do anything, Familiar flew to the bed. With a half growl, he caught the covers in his teeth and pulled.

Mary ran forward. Her friend was deathly pale, her eyes closed and her chest barely moving. "Sophie?"

There was no answer.

Mary rushed to the bedside and tried to shake Sophie awake. She was alive, but she did not respond to anything Mary did. "Sophie!" Mary cried urgently. Then she ran from the room, down the stairs, and hurried out the kitchen door, running once again toward the Connery house.

"Keep her walking," Abby directed the tiring Kevin and John as they supported Sophie in a slow pacing back and forth across the room. "There'll be no sleep for you this night, but tomorrow you can lie abed and snore yourselves silly."

Mary sat in a chair in front of the fire and watched her friend stumble sleepily between the two men. Sophie's color was good, as was her breathing. But it didn't do to take a chance, not at Mayfair. Mary toyed with the idea of loading William and Sophie into a car and taking them both away. She could do it— and she might. "Do you think Dr. Sloan should take a look at her?"

"Let the poor man sleep," Abby said. "Miss Sophie's taken in a quantity of my herbal tea. She's sleepy, but it isn't a toxic substance. We could let her sleep it off, but it'll make you feel better if we revive her."

"Yes, it will," Mary agreed. Sophie was rolling her head from side to side, resisting all effort to wake her. But Kevin and John struggled on, forcing her to walk.

"Why won't you leave me alone?" Sophie said clearly— and irritably. "I want to sleep."

"See," Abby said. "She's fine."

"I think you're right." Mary was feeling better and better as her friend started to grudgingly wake up.

"How do you suppose she got into the tea?"