Fear Familiar Bundle (91 page)

Behind her, a rich tapestry depicted a scene from ancient mythology. The golds and greens of the woven artwork made the perfect backdrop for the abundant red curls that tumbled around her shoulders.

Eleanor was about to resume her argument when she heard someone else speak. "Mary won't leave. I've tried to get her to go."

The voice on the stairs drew everyone's attention. Eleanor rose to stand beside Peter and just to the left of Mary as a tall, darkly handsome man came into the room. "Eleanor, my loveliest cousin, what a pleasure to see you here at Mayfair at last."

At the mention of the word "cousin," Familiar's bright green eyes blinked around the gray metallic leg of the armored knight. He stared intently at the man who continued speaking.

"After all of my visits with you and your family in the States, it's wonderful to finally have you here at Mayfair." William's smile was tired but filled with irony. "I see you've met my delightful bride-to-be, Mary. She insisted on calling you." He gave her a look that held no reprimand, only concern.

Eleanor walked swiftly to her cousin and hugged him. He was so tall she had to reach up to put her arms around him, and she was concerned by the thinness of his body as she embraced him. William had always been an athletic boy, tall and well made. He'd never suffered through the gangly stage that most kids endured. Now, though, he was terribly thin. And his face was pallid, as if he'd been ill.

"What has Mary been telling you?" he asked as he moved into the room, shaking hands with Peter and drawing Mary to him for a kiss on the cheek.

"I've told them about the ghost." For all of her fears, Mary was not one to back down from her own actions. "I know how fond you are of Eleanor. I knew you wouldn't mind."

"Fond. That's a rather weak word to describe how I feel about one of my last relations. Eleanor played at being my sister when I was growing up."

Eleanor heard the teasing note of the young William she remembered so clearly and she laughed. "All isn't lost if you still have that wicked sense of humor." She held out one hand to William and one to Mary. "Your bride-to-be is beautiful, William. Beautiful."

"Yes, she is." William looked past Eleanor at the petite redhead. "I have tried to convince her to leave…." An in-discernible emotion swiftly crossed his face.

"Enough of that nonsense. I'm staying right here with William, where I belong." Mary's clear-eyed gaze was leveled at her fiancé.

Footsteps sounded on the stones of the hallway, and they all looked up to see a slender, gray-haired woman standing at the open door. "If you've an appetite, dinner is ready to be served."

"Abby, these are my relatives, Eleanor and Peter Curry. They've come for a visit, as Mary has no doubt informed you."

"Yes, Mr. William. The table is set. Will Ms. Sophie be down?"

Mary looked up the stairs, reluctantly removing her hand from Eleanor's. "I'll see about her and be back in a moment. She's probably still deciding what dress to wear." Her chatter was slightly forced. "You know Sophie. She's such a dizzy thing. The most kindhearted person in the world, but dizzy."

William laughed. "Tell her I'm on my best behavior tonight. I promise not to terrify her in front of my cousin." William's face darkened. "If I can keep that promise," he said, almost under his breath.

Mary started toward him, then halted. "I'll get Sophie," she said softly, turning away, but not before the sheen of tears was visible in her eyes. Without a backward glance she ran out of the room. The eerie sound of her light footsteps echoed on the stones for several seconds after she was gone.

"She's lovely, William." Eleanor filled the conversational void that seemed to swallow all of them.

"Indeed she is," he answered. His hands clenched at his sides. "Lovely, smart, talented. All of the things I require in a wife."

Eleanor quickly looked up at Peter. Her husband's concerned features told her that he, too, had caught an undercurrent in William's words.

"What's going on here?" Eleanor asked. "Mary hasn't told us much. She was terribly upset when she called yesterday."

William signaled them to precede him into the formal dining hall. The table, which could easily seat two dozen, had been set for five.

"I'm not sure." He looked around the room, finally settling his gaze on a small black head that peeped over the table. "It would seem we need another place setting."

Peter and Eleanor caught sight of Familiar at the same time. "Familiar!" Eleanor said, hurrying to retrieve the cat.

"Leave him." William laughed. "It's been so long since I've had a pet. Now that I'm home at Mayfair, I'd love to get several cats and a couple of dogs." The change in his features was remarkable. It was as if a prisoner had been released. Happiness touched his eyes and the corners of his mouth.

"Kitty, kitty." William went to the cat and extended a hand for Familiar to sniff. "Well, at least he has expensive taste." He looked at the plate of smoked salmon and the telltale crumbs on the edge of the plate.

"Familiar!" Eleanor was horrified. "I swear, that black rascal can get in more trouble than two dozen mobsters. He had a little misadventure in Galway. Horse racing." She sighed, knowing it would be impossible to explain Familiar's past.

"He's fine." William eyed the black cat speculatively. "In fact, I'd love to have him as my guest for a week or so." He looked up at his cousin. "That is, if you'd be willing to leave him."

"Leave him?" Eleanor didn't understand.

"Can I ask a favor of you, Cousin Eleanor?"

"What can we do?" Peter asked.

"I want you to go to Edinburgh and look into the family history. Especially Slaytor MacEachern. What kind of man was he? Did he die here at Mayfair?" William took a breath, and his voice had the faintest tremble as he spoke again. "There has to be something in the family history, something hidden. Eleanor, though it is a distant connection, is a MacEachern
and
a researcher. Peter, you have a medical background. If you can, would you try to find out why Slaytor MacEachern might be haunting Mayfair after all these years? Is he after something here, or is it me he wants?"

Eleanor closely examined her cousin's face. William was as close to the edge as any human she'd ever seen. She gave a slow nod, catching Peter's eye to make sure that he agreed. "We'll do what we can."

"Wouldn't it be better if we stayed here?" Peter asked cautiously. "I don't believe Mayfair is haunted by a ghost, but…"

William shook his head. "I can't leave, and someone has to try to find some answers for me. If you go, you could save my life. Or at least, my sanity."

Mary stopped in the doorway, and William's last words made her lungs contract painfully. "You shouldn't talk like that, William." She stepped into the room. A taller woman stood behind her, and her discomfort was obvious on her face. "Talking about this ghost will only make you feel worse. And whatever you feel, you're not close to losing your mind. Now don't be spooking Sophie again," she added as she drew her slender friend into the dining room.

"I'm not certain what's happening to me, Mary, and I won't pretend otherwise." William saw the effect his doubt had on his fiancée. More than anything, he wanted to go to her, but he held back. If he could convince her to leave, it would be best. Maybe she'd go with Eleanor and Peter when they went to the capital. She had to go. Before…

Abby brought in a tureen of soup. Conversation fell into an awkward lull as everyone took a seat, and a maid served them. Mary turned to her friend and reached over to touch Sophie's milk-white hand. "Eleanor and Peter brought a cat with them. His name's Familiar."

At the sound of his name, Familiar popped his head over the table. His performance brought laughter around the table. "I've never had a pet, but Mary has been talking about getting a dog." Sophie's dark, straight hair was pulled off her temples with combs, and her dark eyes showed intelligence and an alert nature.

Familiar placed both paws on the white linen cloth and looked directly at Mary, as if challenging her.

"A nice, well-behaved dog," Mary said, directing her answer to the cat, to the amusement of everyone. "A cute dog."

"Meow!" Familiar yawned, showing his disdain for the entire topic of dogs.

"He's adorable," Mary said, reaching over to pull him into her lap. Familiar basked in the attention.

"That's what this house needs, some laughter," William said. His gray eyes were bright. "We've been here at Mayfair for little more than a month, and our mood has gotten more and more solemn. Maybe Peter and Eleanor can bring some sunshine into this old mausoleum. I'd hoped my future wife would be able to do that, but…"

The slight change in William's voice went unnoticed by everyone except Mary and Familiar. Both tensed slightly and turned to look at William.

"That's exactly the problem here. The women don't know how to make their men laugh." William's eyes had begun to glitter dangerously and he stared at Mary.

Mary's quick intake of breath was muffled into her napkin. Familiar eased from her arms, his green eyes focused on William. The hair along his back began to rise.

"You have no respect for your master, Mary Muir." William lifted his empty wineglass. "You even fail to see to my needs at the table."

"William…" Mary half rose, then resumed her seat at his angry scowl.

William stood, faltering. His pale forehead was covered with a sheen of sweat. He glanced at the guests one by one, and Sophie shrank back into her chair and gave Mary a terrified look.

"He's doing it again, Mary. You said he'd be better now that his cousin is here. We have to get out of here." She cast an apologetic look at Peter and Eleanor. "I'm sorry, but the man is losing his mind."

"William." Mary pushed back from the table and started around to him.

"Get back, vixen." He slammed his hand down on the table hard enough to make his heavy pewter place setting jump. "Do you call that dressed for dinner?" His look ran down her pale green dress. "And where are the jewels I had sent to your room? If you're to be the bride of a MacEachern, you must learn to dress the part in front of company. I'll not have you mewling about like some gilded English wench."

Mary cast an appealing glance at Peter. "He needs to go to his room."

"He needs a doctor." Eleanor stood with her husband and together they closed around William.

"I'll go to my room when I'm good and ready." William drew himself up to his full height, a good two inches taller than Peter. "I am Lord of Mayfair. I set the rules in my own household."

"You're sick, William." Mary reached out to touch his arm.

William's reaction was severe. He jerked away from her and spun out of the reach of the others. "You're all conspiring against me. Even my own kinswoman." He threw Eleanor a bitter glance. "I'll not fall into your clutches. You're up to no good, a pit of vipers nesting in my own hearth."

He strode out of the room, his boot heels clattering on the stones.

"He'll go for a ride," Mary said, turning back to the others. Her thin shoulders sagged, and she tried to smile but failed. "He'll ride for several hours, and then he'll come back in and sleep."

"He's hardly had a bite of food," Sophie said, her voice still trembling. "I don't know what the man lives on. Every time we try to have a meal, he turns into Slaytor the Terrible and rushes out to the stables. He could be gone for an hour or six hours."

"I don't know what to do." Tears sparkled in Mary's eyes, and she angrily wiped them away.

"You have to leave here, Mary." Sophie went to the smaller woman and grasped her hand. She spoke as if they were alone in the room. "He's getting worse and worse. Surely you love him, but he's not right. Not even your love can make him well, Mary. And you can't sacrifice your life."

"I won't leave him." Mary's profile was stonelike.

"We could go to Edinburgh and find a doctor. We could— "

"You're free to go, Sophie. I don't expect you to stay. But I will not leave him."

Eleanor stepped forward. "Has he seen a doctor, Mary?"

"He refuses. It has something to do with his inheritance. That's why we're here at Mayfair. We were so happy in Edinburgh. And then we came here to plan the wedding." Her voice sounded stiff and brittle. "He was fine until we came here. It's Mayfair." She looked around at the big dining hall where the corners hid in darkness. "It could well be haunted. Sometimes I almost believe that it is." She clutched her arms as if she were cold.

"William has asked Peter and me to go to Edinburgh to do some research. Perhaps it would be best if both of you came with us. We can look for a doctor, and when we come back, maybe we'll be able to help William." Eleanor couldn't keep the panic from her own voice. She could see Mary's fears openly on her face.

"Take Sophie. I will not leave him." Mary twisted her hands together.

"I won't leave you," Sophie said miserably. "If I left and anything happened, I couldn't live with myself." She looked out the doorway toward the dark heart of the castle. "I thought this was the grandest place when I first saw it." A shudder passed over her. "Now I'd give anything for my little flat in Edinburgh with the tiny rooms and no closets."

"There's no going backward," Mary said stoutly. "Now, enough talk about leaving. Let's take Eleanor and Peter into the library. We may be able to find some things that will help them in their research. I'm sure there's something there about Slaytor MacEachern." Her clear green eyes held resolve. "That's all William ever talks about. Slaytor MacEachern, the originator of the line."

"That's exactly who he asked us to research," Eleanor agreed.

"I hope you can help William sort the facts from the fiction," Mary said, her voice betraying her own lack of confidence in the assignment. "He doesn't need any more gruesome tales to believe. He needs facts. Solid facts."

"That we can give him," Peter said as they walked as a small unit toward the library. "We're going to have to leave Familiar here, though."

Mary's face was touched with a rare smile. "That would be wonderful," she said. "I love animals, especially cats."