Fear Familiar Bundle (107 page)

"Were you in with Clarissa on that medium?" Mary didn't care that she was hurling accusations. If Chancey was not directly involved, she had every intention of using the incident to her advantage— to play Mary as a fool to the small community of Kelso.

"Clarissa is more than capable of making her own trouble," Chancey said, her voice filled with amusement. "Where's William?"

"I don't know." Mary hated to admit it, but she had no idea where he might turn up, or in what condition.

"Blaze is gone?"

"No," Mary said coldly.

"Then he's around. I checked the cars. He hasn't taken one, and if the horse is here, he hasn't left the grounds. I know him well, you see. Much better than you could ever learn to know him. William and I are alike. We share a common past, a common background. A common desire to see Mayfair prosper and the MacEachern name to continue with strong, healthy heirs."

"You've spoken of your brood mare capabilities before." Mary felt a surge of pure adrenaline. "I don't have time now to continue this discussion."

"Are you pregnant yet, Mary? If not, I'd accomplish that before William is dragged off to hospital."

Stunned at Chancey's knowledge of their personal business, Mary lost her aggressive edge.

"I see I've hit a nerve. William hasn't told you about the terms of his inheritance, has he? I'm assuming he's afraid you'll panic, once you understand that you may be carrying the child of someone who's mentally unstable."

"I don't know what you're talking about. William is fine."

"Save it for someone who might believe you. I don't." Chancey stepped closer. "In order to inherit, William must marry and produce an heir before he is thirty-five. A male heir. That gives you about two years. By my calculations, that's two babies. And if there should be trouble, or they should be girls…" She laughed. "How is your genetic disposition, Mary? Do boys or girls predominate?"

"That's absurd. No one would stipulate such a thing." Mary found that her breathing was shallow. She forced her mind to clear.

"Oh, someone has— and did. Good old Slaytor, whose name keeps popping up all over Mayfair these days. No MacEachern inherits unless there's proof he can continue the line. Slaytor MacEachern was a warrior. Times were very different when he was living, and so he stipulated the heir clause in his will to be passed down generation by generation."

"How do you know so much about the business at Mayfair?" Chancey was a liar, a great liar. This could be one of her tales.

"Everyone knows." Chancey laughed. "Everyone but you. You're the outsider, Mary. You're wrong for William. Did you hear Madame Sianna? Slaytor is stalking the grounds because he's disappointed that William is to marry you." She stepped even closer, until she was only four feet away. "You claim to be so much in love with William. Why don't you think about what you're doing to him? Just think about what it would mean for him to lose Mayfair. No heir, no prospects of one. You're not exactly a robust figure of a woman. In fact, I'd label you nothing more than a terrible liability."

The private moments with William came back to Mary like a slap in the face. William had spoken of his desire for children— soon, and as many of them as she wanted. Was that merely to meet the demands of his inheritance? She felt her trust begin to crumble. No! She had to give him a chance to answer the accusation. Before she believed anything, she had to ask him. And she would.

"Go home, Chancey. The evening is done." She wanted Chancey out of her way so she could find William. Find him and ask a few questions.

"If you want to stay at Mayfair, get pregnant before William goes in hospital. After that, it may be too late. But if you're with child, a boy child, perhaps you can save Mayfair for William. If you're not willing to do that, then get out of my way. Because I am."

"Does this look like I'm leaving?" Mary, goaded beyond clear thinking, drew the ring from beneath her sweater by the chain.

Chancey's indrawn breath let her know it had been an effective tool. "That's the MacEachern marriage ring," Chancey said.

"I know. William gave it to me. We're to be married November first. I hope you can attend, Chancey." Mary's speech was cool and formal. She'd regained her composure and the upper hand.

"Where did you get that ring?" Chancey's voice was half command and half frightened question.

"I told you, William gave it to me."

"That's impossible." Chancey's voice held no challenge, only fact.

"Impossible to you, but it happened to me."

"That's the marriage ring, the one every MacEachern from Slaytor down for more than four centuries has given his wife. On their wedding day!"

"I know that," Mary answered impatiently. There was something she wasn't getting. Besides, the enormity of the half lie she'd told Chancey was beginning to weigh on her. "I'm giving the ring back until we're wed."

"That should impress William."

Chancey was too smug. Mary felt the trap close before she heard Chancey's next words.

"That ring is never shown before the ceremony. It's tradition, Mary. The ring is placed on the bride's finger at the wedding. William would never give it to you beforehand. Never. In fact, he couldn't give it to you, even if he wanted."

"Why not?" Chancey's expression was so smug, so knowing, Mary couldn't help but ask.

"The ring has been missing for at least a hundred years. I'd like to be around when you explain to William exactly where you got it."

Very clever. Very clever, indeed. Madame See-anna needs to see the inside of a good old-fashioned jail. That was a very interesting locket she was wearing. Very interesting the way it caught the candle flame and reflected just perfectly. The question with the madame is, who is she with and what does she hope to gain?

There's something rotten in Kelso, and it isn't the haggis, either.

Here's my opportunity. She's bending over to get something off the floor. One flying kitty leap! A terrible yank! Dodge a few glancing blows and make my getaway out the door.

"T
HAT DAMN CAT
! He attacked me!" Madame Sianna turned to Clarissa. "You're responsible for this. I've never been attacked by an animal in my life."

"Really, Madame Sianna. How can you accuse me because that cat jumped at you? Besides, you aren't hurt. There isn't a mark on you." Clarissa motioned to her son. "Let's get out of here as quickly as possible. There's no telling what else might jump out at us." Her eyes were sparkling. "I've proven exactly what I hoped to prove— Mayfair is haunted. Something strange and dark has been happening behind these old walls. Did you see the way William jumped up and ran out of the room?"

"Mother," Darren started, his voice tired and disapproving. "If you continue to harass William— "

"I will continue." Clarissa's eyes snapped. "Until he's ready to sell Mayfair."

"I've told you, William will never sell." Darren's voice held the tiniest spark of anger. "He won't give up Mayfair voluntarily. You can't railroad him like you do me."

"Railroad! I only make you do what's good for you."

"Well, I've had just about enough of 'what's good for me.' Mark that down and remember it." Darren picked up Madame Sianna's bag. "I'll be downstairs, waiting for you. Make it fast, or you might discover that my patience isn't as endless as you like to think. I'm about fed up with your treacheries and manipulations. It might surprise you to learn that I have plans of my own."

"Darren!" Clarissa called after her son, but he walked out of the room, ignoring her.

"The night hasn't gone exactly as you wanted," Madame Sianna said. Her hand went to her throat and her face went white. "My necklace. Where is it?"

Clarissa looked from the medium's bare neck to the floor. "It has to be around here somewhere. You had it on not two minutes ago."

"The cat!" The medium looked around the room quickly. "That cat took my necklace."

Clarissa laughed. "That's rich. Mayfair has a warlord ghost and a thieving cat. A nice little fillip to my stories."

Madame Sianna's eyes were burning coals of fury. "This may amuse you, but that necklace is invaluable. It's a family heirloom, and I rely on it in my work."

"A necklace?" Clarissa was only mildly interested. "You use it in your work?"

"Yes. I must have it back."

"Then I suggest you take the matter up with William,
if
you can find him. Heaven knows where he might have gone to hunt down a ghost." She laughed softly at her own wit.

"This is not a matter for laughter." Madame Sianna's eyes grew even hotter. "I must have my necklace."

"Darren is waiting for us. We don't have time to hunt for it now." Her eyes widened. "But it would be a perfect excuse to come back here tomorrow. Maybe do some exploring on our own."

"I will not leave here without my necklace." Madame Sianna plopped down at the table.

"Is there some problem?" Abby moved up to the two women, her mouth set in a firm line.

Madame Sianna nodded. "That black devil of a cat stole my necklace."

"Familiar doesn't wear jewelry," Abby replied, never even giving the hint of a smile.

Sophie, who'd stopped her crying, and Dr. Sloan both laughed. Even Mrs. Daugherty, who was standing uncertainly at the door, joined in.

"That necklace is valuable." Madame Sianna smoldered. Her large golden earrings swung free of her dark hair as she looked around the room, checking the floor and under the table and chairs. "It has to be here somewhere."

"I'm sorry you've lost your necklace," Abby said. "I'll search the room thoroughly. Tomorrow. When, and if, I find it, I'll make sure and return it to you. No one at Mayfair, not even a cat, has ever been accused of being a thief."

Madame Sianna stood tall. "Thank you." Without waiting for Clarissa or Mrs. Daugherty, she swept out of the room and down the stairs.

"Come along, Emelda," Clarissa said sharply. "Darren is waiting, and he gets to be such a boor about it."

"Certainly, Clarissa." Mrs. Daugherty turned to Sophie. "It was a very…interesting evening. Please give William and Mary my regards. I hope everything is…fine here at Mayfair."

Sophie, still shaken by the séance, nodded. "I'll tell them. I hope everything works out, too." Her voice was only a little wobbly as she spoke.

N
ECKLACE
,
NECKLACE
, who's got the necklace? I dare say it's some handsome bewhiskered fellow. Impeccably dressed in formal black. I can't imagine why that woman sets such store in this old piece of costume jewelry. Could it be because she uses it for something other than adornment for her dress? Yes, I do believe that's the case. Nice little hinge and tiny compartment for a small amount of almost any substance, a` la Borgias. They used to make these ornate necklaces and rings so substances could be hidden in them and used discreetly. Snuff was often put in them, but arsenic was carried in others. Many a wealthy lord or lady was sent to his or her grave with a dose from a locket or ring. And this locket works exactly the same way. If I only had a thumb, I could snap it right open! I learned about these things from one of those wonderful British mystery writers. It's amazing what tidbits of fascinating knowledge a well-traveled cat picks up along the way. Simply amazing.

Now, with a little shake and rattle, I can tell this compartment is empty. At the moment. But that's not what caught my eye. It was the way the opal-like surface reflected the candle flame— directly into Sophie's eyes. That Madame See Nothing was pulling the wool over somebody's eyes, and not with poison. It was the motion of the locket that she was employing.

I never would have noticed the good madame's game except for Sophie's glass of wine. From my vantage point behind the good Madame, I saw the reflection of the necklace in the wineglass. Then, bingo, I knew exactly what was happening. And no one else at the table suspected a thing. They all thought Sophie was communicating with some otherworldly personality. Not.

In my mind, Sophie is explained, but I don't understand the voice. All along I've been thinking maybe William was involved. You know, the old "I'm Slaytor reborn" scenario where he undergoes some kind of psychotic split. But William was sitting right at the table. He didn't open his mouth. I watched his lips carefully. And there have been no claims to ventriloquism. This will take some work, unless William has trapped the intruder, which I doubt. Whoever is making the rounds of this castle knows it pretty darn well.

I'll zip down to the barn and see what's going on there. I haven't heard the thunder of hooves, so I'm thinking everyone is still on the grounds. Mary should be there. Fingers crossed— or toes as the case may be.

"K
ITTY
,
KITTY
!" Chancey caught the glint of gold in Familiar's mouth, and her natural curiosity drove her to try to grab the cat.

Spry as a young kitten, Familiar leapt sideways and darted into the barn where he found Mary. One look at her face told him plenty was wrong.

He garbled a meow around the necklace and deposited the jewelry at her feet.

"Familiar!" Mary recognized the necklace immediately as belonging to Madame Sianna. "Where did you get this?"

She examined the opal-like, almost liquid surface. "It's not expensive, but it's pretty. I'm sure Madame Sianna will be looking for it."

"Me-ow." It sounded exactly like "No doubt."

Mary couldn't resist holding up the necklace to catch the dim barn lights. Even without a direct source of illumination, a multitude of icy fires swirled in the stone.

"This is beautiful. Now we'd better go take it back." Mary looked down at the cat. He'd never shown any interest in jewelry before, but the necklace reminded her that she'd still not returned the MacEachern marriage ring to William. She hated to admit it, but Chancey's gleeful thrusts had twice nicked her heart— and unlocked a series of demons. Why hadn't William told her about the urgent need for an heir? Point one. Point two— if the ring had been lost for over a hundred years, how had William suddenly found it? Was he possessed by Slaytor? Had Slaytor hidden the ring?