Fear Familiar Bundle (94 page)

"Of course." William looked slightly bewildered. "Why wouldn't he? He's done a remarkable job here. I wouldn't want to try and manage without him."

Darren gave William a crooked grin. "Good, then. It will be nice to have my old school chum back here. Maybe we can resume some of our adventuring in the woods here and about."

William smiled. "We had some adventures." He went over to Mary and gently kissed her head. "Of course, now my Mary will have to join us on our tromps. I want her to learn to love this country as much as I do."

"And I shall," Mary said gallantly. "I already do."

"She took a riding lesson," Sophie said. "I was watching from the window and she did quite well."

William's smile lit his face. "That's my Mary," he said proudly.

"Why don't we go for a ride together tomorrow?" Chancey spoke to William.

"I'm sorry, Chancey. I have some business to take care of tomorrow. Maybe Mary would like to be my substitute. You could show her some of the town and surrounding area. Just leave Mayfair to me. I want to show it to her myself."

Chancey's eyes hardened. "Of course. I'd be delighted to."

"I don't know…" Mary had a sudden sense of dread. "I've only had one lesson. I'm not really good enough. I'll slow Chancey down and spoil her ride."

"Of course you won't." Chancey was smiling now, but it wasn't friendly. "There's nothing I'd rather do than show William's bride-to-be around the area on horseback. It's all settled, then. I'll be here at one." Chancey caught and held Mary's gaze. "I'd better get home."

"As should we." Clarissa rose, and Darren stepped to assist her with her wrap but she shrugged him away. She turned to Mary and scooped up her hand, drawing her away from the others. "Just remember, if you hear crying coming from the turret on the third floor, spare a little pity for the beautiful Lisette. The MacEachern men can be a headstrong and brutal lot."

Mary buried her face in the cat's warm black fur and tried to forget the story of Lisette and Slaytor that Clarissa McLeod had told her. "It was only a tale," she whispered to Familiar, but she couldn't shake the idea that it was a bit of bloody history that was very much a part of William's heritage. Strange, but she'd never connected him with such a family. She thought back to the days— and nights— in Edinburgh when they'd dined and danced their way through the summer. Even further back were the letters she'd received from a young man gifted in the art of writing and humor. He'd of course mentioned Mayfair, but never in any way that made the reality of the castle and the family holdings seem more than the average home where Mary had grown up. It wasn't that William had hidden anything from her, it was just that he was his own person— not a prisoner of his past or his possessions. If only they could step back in time, back to the days of lunches and the nights of dancing and long, sweet kisses that had driven her nearly mad with desire.

"Mary?"

William's voice echoed along the third floor, and Mary started guiltily. Curiosity, morbid curiosity, had driven her up to the turret room that Clarissa had described. And what had she discovered? Only that the door to the chamber was locked, and that she was a fool for listening to the tales of Clarissa McLeod. Worst of all, William would easily ascertain her motives in searching out the room— and he would be further upset.

"Come on, Familiar." She set the cat down and hurried toward the stairs. Perhaps she could meet him on the second floor.

"Mary?"

His voice was concerned.

"I'm coming, William." She hurried down as fast as she could, breathless when she finally met him on the second-floor landing.

"What were you about?" He smiled as he brushed a curl from her cheek. "You look capable of magic, a beautiful fairy."

"Exploring," she answered, smiling herself. "Learning all about Mayfair is going to be great fun. There are so many rooms. And I'll bet there are secret passageways and— "

"I don't know of a single one, but I'll have them built to please you." He took her hand, turning her to face him. "You played beautifully today. I'm so proud that you're going to be my wife. I should have taken you around to visit the neighbors sooner. It's rather embarrassing that they had to come here, to Mayfair, to see my bride."

"They're an interesting…group." She stumbled. She didn't like any of them, but if they were his neighbors, she would do her best. "What about your friend, Darren? Did you really grow up together?"

"We did. Up until I was sent away to England. Darren and I spent almost every day, after we'd done with our separate chores, tromping around the woods. He liked to fish, and I liked to daydream." William was smiling as he remembered the happy days of his boyhood, but a scowl quickly followed. "I begged Father not to send me away, but it was the MacEachern tradition to go to school abroad. And God knows, my father loved tradition." He shrugged away the bitterness as he turned to her and lifted her hand to his lips. "I swear to you, Mary, that when our children are born, I won't send them away from Mayfair or from us."

Caught by the passion of his vow, Mary smiled. This was the William she knew and loved. "No, we'll keep the whole brood here until we die of old age." She leaned forward and kissed his chin. Even so, she had to stand on tiptoe. Her breath rushed out as his fingers closed around her small waist. With almost no effort, he lifted her against him.

His kiss was neither hesitant nor timid. His lips demanded a response. And Mary gave it to him. It had been such a long time since he'd allowed himself to show his passion for her. He'd been afraid— not for himself, but of somehow hurting her. That restraint, coupled with the turmoil of the past month, intensified the pleasure of each touch, each sensation.

Mary felt her knees weaken. She'd dreamed of making love to William, of learning every inch of his body and knowing exactly what pleased him. His marriage proposal, the fairy-tale visit to Mayfair, all had been part of her dream, and that included the physical relationship that his embraces had made her desire. Mary's love had grown from satisfaction in a few romantic kisses to a searing physical need. As his arms held her and his lips claimed hers, she told herself to ignore all of the doubts that had grown between them. The man holding her was William, her William, and whatever happened between them, he would protect her.

For the weeks of her visit, William had forced himself not to dwell on his desire for Mary. She was in Mayfair, learning the routines of his family's ancient home. When he caught sight of her walking down one of the long corridors, her face lighted by the arched windows, his need for her almost made him insane with desire. But it was the very thought of madness that had prevented him from taking her into his arms and carrying her off to his bedroom.

After his first episode, he'd been afraid to pull Mary any deeper into his problems. She loved him, that he didn't doubt. But if he was mad, if he was losing his mind, he could not drag her down with him. They were not yet married. She was still a free woman, and if something tragic happened, she could pick up the threads of her life and move on, unencumbered by a madman for a husband.

He'd asked her to marry and had brought her to Mayfair to make certain that she could— would want to— fit into his future. The life of Lady MacEachern, surrounded by the duties that the title brought with it, might be too isolated for her, too different from her life as a symphony cellist and city girl. Once he'd seen her at Mayfair, though, his doubts had disappeared. Mary was perfect for life in the country, and more importantly, she was perfect for him. He could not imagine a future without her.

His need for her had finally outstripped his desire to protect her. He slid his arm beneath her legs and lifted. She was as light as a feather in his arms. Sometimes, when she was out in one of the fields and walking in the sun, she seemed like a sprite. With her red hair afire in the sunlight and her tiny figure running across the green yard, she was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. Now, she was completely woman. Her breasts pressed against him and her fingers clutched at his back.

"Take me to your room, William," she whispered in his ear. "For pity's sake, take me now."

"I will," he answered, pushing his own concerns aside. For an hour or two, he wouldn't allow the uncertainty of the future to mar his love for Mary. He would have her, and he would take care of her.

There was the sound of rapid footsteps coming up the stairs, and the sudden intake of breath as Sophie caught sight of the lovers. Mary was in William's arms, her body pressing upward to claim his lips.

"Excuse me." A red flush touched Sophie's cheeks and neck. She turned and started to rush back down the steps.

"Sophie," William called after her. She'd looked so shocked. He started down the steps, Mary still in his arms. "Wait a minute."

"Terribly sorry," she called back over her shoulder. "I'm always blundering into other people's private business. I…I…" She reached the foot of the stairs and stopped.

"Sophie." Mary had refocused on her surroundings. William placed her deftly on her feet, and she started to run after her friend. "Let me talk with her a minute," she called back to William with a grimace of regret. She didn't wait for an answer, but turned and ran after her friend. "My lord, Sophie, it was a kiss. Quit acting like you've seen something shocking."

Mary couldn't help the impatience in her voice. Sometimes Sophie acted like such a goose. It was the late-twentieth century, and Edinburgh was certainly not a backward city. Sophie had seen and heard plenty in the movies, in magazines, from her friends. A kiss shouldn't drive her into flight like a terrified rabbit.

"Sophie!" Mary let impatience twine with regret in her voice. "Sophie Emerson, you'd better stop and talk to me or…or…or I'm going to tell Abby not to make another single batch of scones." They'd run almost to the kitchen, and Mary heard the sound of footsteps halting.

"Whatever has happened to you to make you act so foolish?" Mary regretted the harshness of her tone, but she was aggravated. Sophie, unintentionally, had interrupted the first private, passionate moment she'd had with William in over a month. They'd made that physical connection and were on the verge of moving their relationship to a different plane— a plane that Mary felt would help William through his time of trouble. Sophie's presence had shattered the moment between them.

It was the harshness that finally stopped Sophie. She was at the kitchen door, hand on the knob, when she turned around to face Mary. "It's nothing important."

Her voice trembled so badly she could hardly speak. Mary felt a lightning bolt of regret at her harsh tone. "What is it, Sophie? I'm sorry I was short, but it's just that William and I haven't had a lot of time lately…."

"I know how much you want to be with him, Mary." Sophie stepped forward. Her eyes were enormous in the slightly darkened room.

"What's happened that you were so eager to find me?" Mary looked around the room for more light. It suddenly dawned on her that the day was gone. It was already nearly eight o'clock, dinnertime, and the sunlight had long abandoned this part of the world.

Sophie hesitated, her large eyes glancing left and right in a frightened manner. "Mary, there was someone in the hall, standing just outside your door when I went up to your room."

"Just now?" Mary was trying to remember the last time she'd gone into her bedroom. Had it been just after the neighbors had all left? Yes.

"It was about an hour ago." Sophie's gaze would not connect with Mary's.

"Who was it?" Mary couldn't understand the dire significance of what her friend had seen. So, someone was standing outside her door. It could have been any of the household help.

"It was William." She swallowed. "I think."

"Well, he found me, as you no doubt know." Irritation at Sophie renewed itself. This was Sophie's big news?

Sophie reached out and touched her friend's arm. "But maybe it wasn't William." Her voice had dropped to a whisper. "I didn't see his face clearly. But he was tall, broad-shouldered."

"That does sound like William." Mary tried to interject a light note. "Or any of his kin."

"Oh, Mary!" Sophie clenched her fists at her sides. "He was wearing this costume, like he was some warlord or something. He frightened me. I did see him, and William was acting out some strange fantasy. He was terrifying."

Mary felt her body tense. For a split second, as she digested Sophie's news, she didn't breathe. She felt as if her heart had stopped beating. Her friend was telling her that William was dressing up and playacting like a Scottish warlord. That alone might be peculiar, but combined with what had been happening to William, it was frightening.

"Sophie, are you sure?" Mary felt her body swing back into life, and with it came a sick sense of panic. "Maybe it was bad lighting, and you're mistaken about what you saw."

"No." Sophie swallowed. "There was this fur thing across one shoulder, and he was wearing very tight leather breeches and a sword. It was a short sword, but wide, and he had a round shield, like the ones on the wall."

Mary knew them. She'd studied the history of the MacEachern family in the heirloom weapons they'd collected. Where some families collected china and crystal, the MacEacherns seemed to specialize in weapons and armor.

"Mary, when he saw me…" Sophie hesitated. "The look he gave me frightened me to death. It was like I was a tender morsel of meat, and he meant to roast me on a spit. It was downright cannibalistic."

At any other time Mary would have laughed at her friend's description. Sophie had a way of exaggerating the most mundane things and making them sound terrifying. This time, though, Mary could not find the humor. What was William doing running around the castle in a costume? Especially when everyone was already worried about him.

"Did he say anything?"

Sophie shook her head. "He laughed. He turned around so that the light was behind his face, and he just laughed, like a devil."

"And then what?"

"I don't know. I ran into my room and locked the door. I've been in there ever since, trying to get up the nerve to find you."