Hope Everlastin' Book 4 (44 page)

"What about your
parents?"

"Wha’ abou'
them?"

"They're going to think
you're marrying me because of the baby."

"Damn me, do I care wha'
they think?" His face beaming, his head reeling, he laughed again.
"My poor darlin’. All this time you've been keepin’ this to
yerself. But shame on you, Laura, for no' knowin’ me
better."

"You've been under a lot of
stress."

"This isn’t stress! A baby.
We created a baby!"

A dubious expression
shadowed Laura's features. "You're going to be one of those zany
fathers who spoil their kids, aren't you?"

"Aye. And I plan to be a
protective and conscientious husband, as weel. No more liftin’, and
tha' includes liftin’ the boys. You shouldn't stay on yer feet for
long at a time."

"If you don't make love to
me, Roan Ingliss, I swear I'll—"

"Oh, dear," mewled a
voice.

Laura released a squeal of
shock and pushed her bare chest against Roan's as she looked in
horror at the opened pocket doors. Her mother stood at the
threshold, her profile to them, a hand fanning her crimson
face.

"Oh, dear," Lauren
repeated. "Do forgive me. I'm so embarrassed."

Laura scrambled off Roan's
lap and hastily retrieved her sweater and camisole from the sofa.
The latter she balled and crammed into the left pocket of her
slacks then donned the sweater as quickly as she could. Roan stood
and looked a bit dazed at the woman. Neither he nor Laura had
thought to shut the doors, let alone lock them.

"Mom, I'm so
sorry."

"No apology, dear." She
laughed shakily. "Alby woke me and said he couldn't find you. I
would have never—"

"It's okay,
Mom."

Laura stepped into the hall
and faced her mother, humiliation scorching her skin. "We should
have closed the doors. Sorry. We weren't thinking."

Lauren's eyes were bright
as she regarded her daughter. "One isn't supposed to think when in
the mood," she said sagely, then fanned her face again. "Roan, I'm
so sorry I intruded," she said without looking at him. "What you
must think of me!"

With a sheepish grin, Roan
walked around his soon-to-be mother-in-law and planted a kiss on
her temple. This done, he draped an arm about Laura's shoulders and
grinned like a fool at the older woman. "In a few minutes or so it
would have been verra embarrassin’," he joked.

"My goodness,
yes."

Laura buried her face into
Roan's shoulder.

"Laura-lass, can we tell
yer mither?"

She looked up in panic,
cast her mother a sickly look and murmured, "If you
must."

"Tell me what?" Lauren
asked.

Roan couldn't wait. "Ye're
going to be a grandmither again. Laura just told me she's carryin’
our child." He loudly kissed the top of Laura's head. "And I
couldn't be happier."

"Laura?"

"Yes, Mom, it's
true."

"Are you happy about
this?"

Laura frowned. "Are
you?"

Lauren released a trilling
laugh and clapped her hands. "I didn't think you could make me any
happier, but you have! I was just telling your father tonight how I
regretted missing so much of my grandsons' growing. Oh, Laura, it
won't be the same as it was with Jack. I promise. We'll be here for
you as long as you need us."

"Really, Mom?"

Lauren held out her arms,
and Laura readily stepped into the embrace. Above her daughter's
shoulder, Lauren mouthed a tearful thank you to Roan. It was a
glorious moment for the three of them, although it did occur to him
that once again he and Laura had been stopped from making
love.

"I promise not to say a
word to your father," said Lauren, holding her daughter out at
arm's length. "It'll mean more to him, coming from you." She
tweaked Laura's chin. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you, Mom. It means a
lot to me to hear you say that."

"Me, too," said
Roan.

Lauren looked at him with
admiration. "Young man, I liked you the moment I laid my old eyes
on you. Welcome to the Bennett family."

She kissed him on the cheek
and withdrew, her cheeks again bright pink. "Goodness, I hope I
don't begin to cry. The older I get, the more sentimental I
am."

"Sentimental's good in ma
book," said Roan.

Without thought, Lauren
blurted, "How on God's green earth did your parents manage to
create such a handsome,
sensible
man?"

She placed the fingers of
one hand to her mouth and froze with disbelief. Laura and Roan
laughed when she sputtered, "I can't believe I said that! Forgive
me, Roan."

"Perhaps some o' yer good
taste will rub off on them."

"I do
apologize."

"Please, don't," Roan
grinned.

A shrill, bloodcurdling
scream erupted from somewhere above.

Roan ran for the staircase.
In his haste he stumbled and struck his right shin against the edge
of one of the steps. Although it was covered with a Persian runner,
it was not thick enough to dull the blow. He went down on a hip,
howling with surprise, pain and raw vexation. Laura and her mother
rushed to him, but another scream rent the air and he forced
himself onto his feet. He ascended, the women behind
him.

Two more screams followed
then a cacophony of shouts. By the time he hobble-climbed to the
second floor, he heard Lachlan bellow, "
Haud yer wheesht!"

"What did you say to me?"
Roan’s mother shrilled.

Roan limped down the hall
toward his parents' room, where others were gathered across from
the open door.

"I said hold yer noise!"
Lachlan bellowed. "Yer foolishness woke the whole bloody
household!"

Roan stepped around the
boys and stood at his mother and Lachlan's side. She was standing
on tiptoe, pressing her face close to Lachlan's, her hands on her
hips, and her chin thrust out in a manner Roan knew only too well.
She was furious, but also comical-looking in her night garb. The
thin straps and lace cups of her negligee could barely support her
large, sagging breasts. Her hair was wrapped in a satin turban, and
a thick layer of pale green night cream covered everything but her
mouth and eyes.

"How dare you talk to me
like that!" she shrieked.

She whacked Roan in the
chest with the back of a hand then used the same hand to jab an
isolated fingertip into Lachlan's chest, punctuating each shrill
word, "I will not stand here and take this from an upstart like
you!"

Livid, Lachlan glared down
at the assaulting digit and lifted his furious gaze to hers. "Are
you sure you didna happen a glance in the mirror, Mrs. Ingliss?" he
asked, delivering the verbal jab with a devilish grin. "Ye're a
frightenin’ sight, even for a mon o'
ma
years!"

"You arrogant—"

"Mither!"

Her gaze cut to Roan and
she jerked back as if stunned to see him standing so closely.
"Where were you while I was being molested in my bed!" she cried, a
fist emphasizing her words.

Intuition drew Roan's gaze
to Laura's pale face. "Hon, take the lads to their rooms. I'll
handle this."

"For pity sake," Lauren
huffed, glaring at Eilionoir, "get a grip!"

"Oh, shut up! Roan, what
are you going to do about it?"

"Do abou' wha'?" he asked
with his scowl, seeing from one corner of an eye his father
standing back in the bedroom.

"The ghost! I woke up and
he was standing over me with his hands clawed! He wanted to choke
the life out of me! When I screamed, he melted into the wall near
the bathroom. So what are you going to do about it?"

"A ghost?" Roan muttered
then looked at Lachlan and Winston, who both shrugged.

"He was
hideous!"

"I'm sure he—"

She screamed again,
pointing past Roan, and he fell back against the wall, a hand
clamped over the ear her voice had pierced.

"Oh, my," from Lauren drew
his attention to where his mother was pointing. There, between
Laura, Lauren, the boys, and himself, was Stephen Miles.
Transparent and luminescent green, he was pointing to himself and
adamantly shaking his head.

"There are two of them?"
Eilionoir wailed.
"Two
of them?"

Roan locked eyes with
Winston, who stepped forward and leveled an intense look on
Eilionoir. A moment later he turned to Roan. "The memory image in
her mind is o' Cuttstone," he said disparagingly.

"Cuttstone," Roan muttered.
Now his head throbbed with pain as well as his shin.

"Who is Cuttstone?" asked
William Ingliss from inside the room.

Roan jabbed a thumb in
Stephen's direction. "Cuttstone murdered this mon in the cellar a
while back. He died, himself, when he went through Lannie's bedroom
window five days ago."

Eilionoir's face sagged.
"What kind of madhouse is this?"

Stephen, satisfied that he
had been cleared of being the perpetrator, vanished.

"Neither have the power o'
the grayness," said Deliah and yawned. "They be
harmless."

"Harmless?" Eilionoir
snapped.

"Aye," Deliah said
patiently, "harmless. They dinna have the abilities Lachlan
had."

"That black devil tried to
ruin my husband's family's good name!"

Roan gave a roll of his
eyes as Lachlan positioned himself in front of Eilionoir. "Mrs.
Ingliss, I didna do anythin’ Robbie and Tessa didna
deserve."

"Are you drunk?"

"I wish to hell I was,"
Lachlan grumbled. "Go to sleep, Mrs. Ingliss. We've enough o' yer
hysterics for the night. If Cuttstone should return, give the
bastard a
boo
and
I'm sure he'll no' bother you again."

"Roan, are you going to
stand there and allow this pirate wannabe to talk to me like
this?"

"Pirate wannabe, am I?"
Lachlan asked with comical affront.

"Dammit, Mither." Roan
wearily massaged the back of his neck. "Go to bed. If I hear one
more peep ou' o' you, I swear I'll toss you off the bloody
tower."

For a second he thought she
would defy him. Instead, she whirled into the bedroom and slammed
shut the door, cutting her and his father off from the exhausted
observers.

"Charmin’," quipped
Lachlan. He clapped Roan on the shoulder. "You canna be from her
womb."

Deliah grinned at Roan.
"There be a cure for wha' ails her," she said merrily.

"Oh?"

"Aye. On the morrow,
though. Good night."

"Good night," Roan said to
everyone.

He wasn't looking forward
to another day with his parents, but he was intrigued by Deliah's
statement. With that in mind, he followed Laura to help put the
boys to bed.

C
hapter 16

Through a veil of fog and
drizzle, Roan numbly watched the sun wink in and out above the
horizon. It was cold and damp atop the tower, and the air held an
unpleasant, dank odor. He knew he should park himself in front of a
warm hearth. Instead, he secured about his shoulders the red plaid,
wool blanket he'd earlier removed from the trunk at the foot of his
bed.

He'd only managed three
hours sleep the previous night. Afraid his restlessness would
awaken Laura, he had gone to the library to sleep on the sofa, only
to discover he was wide awake.

Little wonder.

His sister was off doing
who knew what.

A fairy kingdom had
materialized on the property.

Uninvited
parents.

Two ghosts.

Laura pregnant.

His mind couldn't juggle it
all.

The peafowl were nowhere in
sight.
Smart birds.
They knew enough to take shelter from the cold moisture. Not
him. He'd come up to the tower in hopes of clearing his head, but
for the past hour and a half the only thought he'd had that wasn't
disjointed was he couldn't think worth a damn.

Life at Baird House was a
guarantee against boredom.

"The household is
awake."

The humor-laced feminine
voice brought Roan's head around then his body. Blue sat atop the
crenelated wall on the opposite side of the tower. Her wings were
retracted into her back. She wore a pale green, Grecian-style gown
and sandals. Her blue-black hair was loose, and glossy despite the
lack of sunshine. Her skin was the color of fine porcelain, and her
aqua blue eyes round and bright, smiling at him with a combination
of sympathy and understanding.

Like Deliah and all the
fairies he'd seen during the ritual of magic, she possessed
enchanting beauty and an aura of timeless serenity.