Fear Familiar Bundle (97 page)

"Then why didn't he allow Kevin to train her a little?"

Mary forced her body up in the bed without wincing. "She was a gift. William was very proud of her, and he wanted me to have something to ride as good as Chancey's horse. Don't you see? He didn't want me to be at a disadvantage as we went around to the neighbors. He didn't want me to be riding an old, decrepit horse because it might look, to some of the neighbors, as if he didn't love me enough to do better by me."

Sophie lifted the large suitcase and stood it up. She nudged it with her toe. "You only see the good in him. Mary, he's disturbed."

"He thought Chancey would behave more…sensibly. But it was me who insisted on cutting across the fields. I thought if she could do it, so could I. If that lamb hadn't frightened Shalimar, we would have been perfectly fine." She spoke those words with conviction, though she didn't completely believe them.

Sophie returned to sit on the side of the bed. Even her slight weight sent a tremor of aches through Mary, but she ignored them. She was beginning to realize that many of her pains were simply sore muscles. The sooner she got up and moved around, the better off she was going to be.

"There's something else." Sophie's soft voice held none of the hysteria that it had before.

"What?" Mary smiled at her friend.

"I was so worried about you that I was crying, and Abby took me into the kitchen for some tea." She hesitated, looking down at her hands. "Mary, Abby has seen someone wandering the castle late at night."

Familiar shifted positions on the bed. His intense green gaze resting alternately on each speaker.

"A prowler?" A chill made Mary pull the covers higher.

"She believes it was a ghost." Now that the words were spoken, Sophie's eyes begged Mary to consider what she was saying.

"Sophie, that is completely ridiculous." Mary felt her anger beginning to stir. "I'm going to have a talk with Abby, too. She knows better than to pick on you with those stories. She knows how easily frightened you are. It seems everyone in Kelso is ghost crazy."

"She was concerned." Sophie touched the blanket covering Mary's foot. "She
is
concerned for you."

"For me?"

"She said that, for the most part, the legends of Slaytor MacEachern have been laid to rest. They're still a source of local gossip and entertainment, but a sighting hasn't occurred for…well, for as long as anyone can remember."

"A sighting?" Mary couldn't believe it.

"Yes. And I did see someone outside your door, whether you want to believe it or not. And the night that Eleanor and Peter arrived, Abby saw something, too. It was after William had gone riding and we'd all gone to bed. Abby was at her cottage, and Kevin and her husband were sound asleep, but she got up and went into the kitchen. Kevin had forgotten to bring in some wood, and she wanted the comfort of a fire in the hearth, so she went outside to get a few sticks."

"She must have really wanted a fire," Mary said sarcastically.

"She couldn't sleep. She said something was troubling her and she wanted a chore. Getting the firewood was just an excuse. Anyway, she was outside when she heard a noise. She said it was late. About three o'clock in the morning. The noise came from one of the battlements. When she looked up, she saw him."

"Him?"

"Slaytor MacEachern. He was standing on the battlement, a man larger than any ordinary man. He had his sword and shield. She said he nearly frightened her to death. But he just looked down at her and laughed, and she described it exactly the way that he laughed at me in the hallway."

"And why hasn't Abby come forward with this story before now?"

"She didn't want to make trouble, and she didn't want to stir any rumors. She wants you and William to be happy here, Mary. But she is worried about you."

"Why me? Why not William?" Mary forced her voice to remain calm. Sophie had only her best interests at heart, and it would do no good to get angry at her. She was easily influenced by tales and stories.

"Well, Slaytor is his kinsman. And it was Slaytor's wife who suffered, according to the stories. And…"

"And what?"

"Well, he was standing outside the room where he kept his wife locked up like a prisoner."

"A regular Bluebeard," Mary said.

"You can laugh at me if you want, but I'm only trying to keep you safe." Tears hovered in Sophie's eyes.

"I know that." Mary felt a stab of guilt. Sophie was her best friend. "I don't mean to be sarcastic. It's just that I find it difficult to believe all of this ghost of Slaytor MacEachern hysteria. There are no ghosts." She reached down and captured Sophie's hand. "I promise you, Sophie, there are no ghosts. This castle is old, and spooky. I'll give you that. You're nervous and upset, and your eyes and ears are playing tricks on you. Look at Abby. It was late. She was tired. She was worried about something else altogether. Her mind gave her a little diversion."

Sophie sighed and stood. "I knew you wouldn't listen. That's why I wanted to pack you up and get you out of here."

"And you knew that I wouldn't leave." Mary smiled at her friend. She leaned down to pet Familiar as he rested by her leg. "Look, if there were any ghosts about Mayfair, Familiar would sense it. Cats have an ability to tune in to supernatural things. Especially black cats." Mary lightly stroked Familiar's back. Obligingly he flipped over and gave her access to his stomach. "This cat couldn't be more relaxed. Now could he?"

T
HE TRICK
to being a successful cat is to
look
relaxed, especially when some lovely elfin creature is willing to stroke and caress you. But that's a secret from the cat's survival manual I intend to pen as soon as I get back to the States and Eleanor's electric typewriter. Now that she's caught up in her computer, the IBM Selectric is all mine.

It's difficult to concentrate on my potential literary successes, though, while Sophie is sighting ghosts and Mary is nearly breaking her neck. Something isn't right here at Mayfair. No, something is definitely wrong. But I can't seem to get a handle on it.

When William and Mary are together, I could swear he loves her with every corpuscle of his big, tall body. Yet, that first evening at the dinner table…He was in a rage at her, for no reason. He didn't have to stab a dagger into the table to let me know he was capable of violence. Little Sophie is a goose, but I certainly understand why she seems to be afraid. I'm more than a little concerned for Mary's safety myself. It just doesn't make sense, though. Why would anyone want to harm Mary? She isn't even part of the MacEachern clan. At least, not yet.

Methinks I'll take a little tour of the stables. During my visit in Ireland, I picked up a bit of chatter involving horses. If push comes to shove, I'm sure I can get in touch with Patrick and Katherine. It's a comforting feeling to know I have my own horse experts just across the water. Yeah, I'm picking up on this north country lingo pretty good. I can't wait to get back to Washington and impress Clotilde with my new vocabulary.

But first things first. I'm going to the stables. Kevin and Erick seem to hang out there, and if there's something rotten in Kelso, I may get a whiff of it from those two.

William stood at the head of the table. The enormous dining hall only made their small party of three seem even less significant. Sophie wouldn't meet his gaze, and Mary was so insistent on being cheerful that he knew something had gone wrong in his absence. Although he'd tried to make her stay in bed, she'd insisted on coming down for dinner. Once Dr. Sloan had reassured him that she was only bruised, he'd relented. In his experience with falls from horses, it was better to move around some if possible.

"Have you seen Familiar?" Mary asked as she buttered a slice of the homemade bread that Abby baked daily.

"He was out at the stables." William poured more wine for all of them. "Kevin said he was sitting on Shalimar's stall as if he was communicating with the mare. He said it was very amusing to watch. I'd give anything to know what goes on in the head of that handsome black feline."

"Now that's a thought." Mary lifted her wineglass. "A toast. To the improvement of my riding skills and to my new horse, Shalimar."

Sophie forced a smile and sipped her wine.

"I think it might be a good idea if you took a few days off from riding and then started on the lunge line with Kevin helping you," William said.

"Good idea," Mary agreed. "I think Shalimar and I will get on fine if we take it slow— and if we stay away from frightened lambs."

William slapped his forehead. "I almost forget to tell you. Mrs. Daugherty was so upset over what happened that she sent that lamb up here as a gift for you."

Mary looked up from her plate. "What am I going to do with a lamb?"

"I suppose we could eat it."

"William!" Sophie and Mary cried out in unison before they saw the smile widen on his face.

"Ah, ladies, it's good to see some enthusiasm and life around this table. Of course, the lamb will be well cared for. It was an amazing gesture, coming from Mrs. Daugherty."

"I hear she isn't one of your biggest fans." Mary didn't want to get into the details of what had happened with Chancey regarding Mrs. Daugherty's penchant for punctuality. She'd spent half an hour thinking through the fact that Chancey had told William that she, Mary, had insisted on taking the fences. Was it possible that the tall blonde had interpreted the events in that fashion? Was it Chancey's guilt that made her lie? Or had she really twisted the facts that violently? All in all, Mary had concluded that it didn't matter. In the future, she determined to use her good sense and not allow herself to be bullied. If blame was to be laid at anyone's door, Mary had to take her share for being too easily pushed around.

"Mary, I hate to be the bearer of dismal news…." William's smile took some of the sting out of his words. "Clarissa McLeod has invited herself over here for dinner Saturday night. She and Darren, and she's suggested that I might want to invite Chancey and a few of the other neighbors. She has a surprise. What do you think?"

Mary didn't know if she'd be able to move by Saturday night, but she couldn't put off meeting the members of the community forever. "That sounds lovely."

"It's just that I feel Clarissa manipulated me rather easily." He reached across the gleaming table and touched her hand. "You see, I've gotten used to dealing with a woman who doesn't resort to manipulation. I'd forgotten that people like Clarissa are masters of the verbal ambush."

Mary laughed. "I'll have to pay attention to her tactics. If you ever start to become difficult, I can take lessons from Mrs. McLeod."

"Heaven forbid." William rolled his eyes.

"This is a lovely meal," Sophie said. She was watching William closely. "I mean, it's usually in the evenings when he begins to…feel ill." She looked from William to Mary and then back down to her plate. "I shouldn't have brought this up. I'm always saying the wrong thing."

"No, you have every right to talk about my bad moods since you've had to suffer through them." William reached on either side of him and took both women's hands. "This scare with Mary may have jolted me out of my own selfish world. I believe I've been so concerned with Mayfair and my responsibilities that I've become overwrought to the point of…well, of some peculiar behavior. Today, though, I realized how easily Mary could be taken from me. I think both of you will see a change, for the better."

Sophie sipped her wine, spilling a few drops of the bloodred liquid on the white tablecloth. "I'm so sorry," she said, blotting it with her napkin.

Mary's laughter rang brightly in the room. "Oh, Sophie. Don't worry so much." She gripped William's hand. "Sophie is such a fussbudget, and I'm so happy. You make me so happy." After the doubts and anxieties, she did feel extraordinarily happy.
This
was the William she'd fallen in love with.

"You're the most important thing in my life, Mary. I've been so stubborn about leaving Mayfair, and I know how frightened you and Sophie both have been. Because of me. I believe all of that's behind me now. Behind us." He lifted her fingers and kissed each one.

Sophie had recovered and lifted her wineglass. "To your future," she said. "To all the happiness you both deserve."

Laughing, they drank to the toast.

Mary finished her glass of wine and put it back on the table. "I hate to be the party drag, but I've had enough sitting in a hard chair for one evening. If you two will excuse me— " Mary pushed back her chair "— I'm going to soak in a hot, hot tub and hobble back to bed."

William stood and went to help her. "An excellent idea. I'll bring up some brandy and dessert when you've had a chance to settle into bed." His gaze touched her like a caress.

Mary felt her heart catch. There was a definite promise in William's eyes— a promise of tender embraces. Her body was sore, but she felt an immediate response to William. "Yes, I'll be waiting," she said.

"Abby has made something special," Sophie said. "I was watching her in the kitchen. It's going to be delicious."

"I'll keep that in mind," Mary said. "While I'm soaking these battered old bones, I'll be thinking of…dessert." The look she gave William made it clear she was thinking about him.

"Can I help you?" William offered.

"No, I need the exercise. I'm afraid if I don't move, I'll rust." Mary laughed as she slowly made her way out of the dining room.

In the hall, she paused. Abby had brought her a cup of herbal tea earlier that had done wonders. With the prospect of William's visit hanging deliciously before her, Mary decided that a second cup could not hurt. She started toward the kitchen, hoping that Abby still had plenty of the herbs left.

As she walked along, Mary found that it became increasingly easier to move. That was encouraging, and she pushed into the kitchen with a smile on her face.

Seated at the table, Kevin looked up, startled. A heavy silver spoon slipped from his fingers and crashed into a delicate glass bowl. At the sound of broken glass Abby whirled from the sink, her hands filled with a mortar and pestle where she was crushing up a yellowish powder. She placed it beside her on the counter.