Lonesome Rider and Wilde Imaginings (18 page)

And it wasn't until just seconds before she finally fell asleep that she realized what she was doing.

Waiting …

Darryl was downstairs the next morning when she arose, waiting for her in the great hallway. There was a full array of breakfast offerings set up on a buffet near the huge banquet table, and he poured her coffee himself while she fixed herself a plate of poached eggs, bacon and potatoes.

“I do apologize for leaving you alone yesterday,” he told her. “It was awfully rude when you had so recently arrived, but the Flemish buyers were here, and I had to spend time with them.”

She waved a hand in the air, smiling ruefully. “Don't apologize. I know your life has to go on.”

“Yes,” he said quietly. “But I rather like the fact that it's going on with you here. Do you feel like another ride today? I can take you into the village to meet some of the locals if you can bear my company for a few hours.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

“Aha! What sounds so wonderful?” a deep voice suddenly demanded.

Darryl made a sound in the back of his throat as Brian Wilde strode into the hall, smiling, just as if he belonged there. He walked straight to the buffet table and helped himself to a plate. “What, no salmon, Miss Evigan?” he asked her in mock horror. “Why, Fairhaven is famous for its breakfast buffets when guests are in residence! Come now, eat up, have a hearty appetite, girl.”

“Brian,” Darryl said sourly, “to what do we owe the honor of your company?”

“Why, how can I stay away? Our beautiful American cousin has arrived. She's here at the castle, preferring grandeur to charm!” He brushed Allyssa's cheek with the backs of his knuckles, arched a brow, then proceeded to the table with his plateful of food. Allyssa fought the temptation to slap him soundly on one smug cheek.

“We're going riding,” Darryl said bluntly.

“How convenient! I rode here.”

“You weren't invited,” Allyssa said coolly, keeping her eyes away from his.

But, oh, she felt his gaze! And as angry as she wanted to be, she had to steel herself to keep from looking at him. She'd already noticed his hair was newly washed, falling at a rakish angle over his forehead. His eyes, with their hazel and gold sizzle, seemed to touch her like wildfire. He was rude, crude, abrasive …

And she wanted him to ride with her.

But she would die before she said it! she insisted to herself.

However, he was equally determined to come, and somehow he managed to make it happen. They started into the village together, Brian and Darryl going on with what must have been their never-ending argument.

“I certainly don't want a pack of strangers prowling about the place!” Darryl insisted. “How do you know who might be in one of those groups?”

“I'd rather have those groups arrive—and I don't give a damn who might be in with the lot—than lose the place altogether, which is a very real threat!”

“Well, now, it might not be up to you at all, soon, eh, cousin?” Darryl asked. He cast a triumphant eye in Allyssa's direction.

She frowned.

“A two-to-one vote can cancel out anything I've got to say,” Brian informed her pleasantly. “But then again, none of us really knows what's going to be in that will, do we? So maybe we should forget the whole subject for the afternoon?”

“How strange. We share a single great-great-great-grandparent, and here we are!” Darryl murmured.

“Strange, indeed!” Brian laughed. “We could be almost as closely related to some stranger on the street!” He winked at Allyssa, who was reminded of the way he had behaved that first night, when he had swept her up from the station.

When he had teased her, so negligently, from her bed.

“We could make an effort to get along, for Allyssa's sake,” Darryl said.

“Ah, yes, but why fool the poor child with extraordinary behavior?”

“I'm not a child,” she said irritably.

“Ah, yes, of that I'm well aware,” Brian murmured. She felt his gold eyes rake over her, their touch making her warm.

Making her remember.

And making her want …

“If he fails to be polite, ignore him,” Darryl instructed her. “I've been doing it for years now.”

Brian smiled, his eyes shifting away from her at last. “Race you over the next rise, cousin!” he cried to Darryl.

The two instantly kneed their horses and went plunging wildly forward. Lady Luck followed automatically, and Allyssa gave her leave to do so, galloping wildly in the others' wake over rises and hills. She was a good rider, passing Darryl and pulling abreast of Brian just as he reined in.

He pointed down the next hill. “See? What a vantage point!” And it was. Far down the hill she could see the village nestled in the valley. It was a beautiful sight. “The people are just as magical,” he said softly, watching her. Darryl reached them then. “Share a pint, shall we, cousin?” Brian asked politely.

“Several, maybe!” There was just a touch of acid in his tone, as if the polite veneer he'd been attempting to maintain was beginning to crack.

They rode down to the inn, where Mrs. McKenzie ushered them into the pub area. She talked a blue streak, provided them with glasses of dark, foaming beer and chips with vinegar, then left them. Both Darryl and Brian were on their best behavior, managing to discuss music and movies and offer opinions on British politics. There was a dart board, and the two wound up in a game, yet the rivalry seemed a friendly one. They tried to include her, but she'd never thrown a dart in her life and was afraid she might hit one of the other patrons.

Sipping her beer, she watched them and felt a little fluttering inside. They were both such strikingly good-looking men. Of course, they were her relatives.…

But she might well be more closely related to some stranger she passed on the street, just as Brian had said.

Which was good, of course, because she never should have felt such stirrings as she did with …

Brian. She bit her lower lip. What was the matter with her? Brian was curt, rude and harsh. And there was that little matter of his denying he had been in her room and insisting that if he
had
been there, they both would have remembered.

The fluttering came again, and she quickly looked down. Yes, he was tall, dark, very handsome. Taut muscled, hotter than a flame, quick-tempered, aggravating, exciting. She was still a fool! Darryl was the one who seemed to give a damn about things. He was trying his best for her.

She looked up, feeling guilty. She was going to do her best to be more concerned for him. To let him know that she appreciated his manners.

After the two men finished their game they had one more beer. Then Brian paid the bill, and they left, mounting up quickly to ride back.

Brian rode with them as far as the castle. But once there, he didn't dismount.

He looked at the sky, as if searching for something. “I think there will be quite a moon tonight. What do you think, cousin?” he asked Darryl, his tone full of some hidden meaning Allyssa was unable to decipher.

Darryl scowled. “Yes, I imagine there will be!”

Brian smiled, then touched his forehead lightly to Allyssa. “Take care, cousin,” he said, and turned his horse to ride away.

“The devil take him!” Darryl muttered. Then he looked quickly at Allyssa. “Sorry. But this has been going on for years.”

“Even brothers squabble. It's probably natural that cousins should, too.”

“We're not that closely related,” Darryl reminded her. Then he grinned. “No—we just dislike one another.”

She smiled, and they rode to the stables, where they left the horses with Liam.

Once they were inside the house, he apologized to her again. “There's a matter I forgot to take care of yesterday. I realize this is incredibly rude, but I have to be gone for supper again. I promise I'll make up for it.”

“There's no need. You mustn't worry,” she assured him.

He moved a step closer to her, cupping her chin in his hand. “Allyssa, you are extraordinary. So beautiful, so intelligent. So sweet.”

She smiled and wished that she would feel something for him in return. But she couldn't. Not anymore.

Damn Brian. He had ruined something for her yesterday when he had kissed her.

She backed away. “You're pretty fine yourself, cousin,” she said softly.

“Well, we've time, and we'll make up for any that we've lost,” he assured her.

Unable to find the right words to say to him, she smiled and turned quickly, then ran up the stairs.

In her room, she decided on a hot bath. As she leaned back in the tub, she muttered aloud, “You really are an SOB, Mr. Brian Wilde! And I hope you're out there to hear me!”

But once again he wasn't. Her room was empty, cold.

She dressed and went downstairs. The sun was just setting. Gregory told her that she could dine whenever she wished, and she nodded, then told him she wanted to see the sunset. She slipped outside and began to walk idly toward the rear of the castle.

She spotted an ancient graveyard. She hadn't noticed it earlier, and now it looked both beautiful and mysterious in the waning light. Even from a distance she could see that there were beautiful new angels to mark the recent graves, as well as broken stones and ancient relics of carved sarcophagi. There was even a large stone structure—the family vault, she imagined. Against the setting sun, the cemetery was as lovely and quaint, as picturesque, as everything else she had found here. And yet there was something …

She frowned suddenly. Somebody was entering the large crypt. She narrowed her eyes to see better against the setting sun.

It was Darryl.

She started to walk toward the cemetery, but the distance was greater than she had imagined, and she started to run.

Suddenly she tripped over a broken stone, that seemed to rise from the ground to block her way. Winded, she got to her feet and kept going, but the sun was setting fast now. Darkness was coming.

At last she reached the vault. The name “Evigan” was deeply etched in the large marble cross atop it. A shiver swept down her spine.

“Darryl?” she called softly. There was no answer.

The door was open. A breeze shifted, and the door at the bottom of the stairs moved just a little, creaking in the night air.

It was nearly dark now. She looked around, then told herself to stop being a fool. She walked down the steps and through the door into the unknown.

Down below, the darkness wasn't as complete as she'd expected. She could make out shelf after shelf of coffins and freestanding stone slabs supporting even more coffins. In the dimness, the details escaped her. An eerie feeling crept along her backbone.

“Darryl!”

But he still didn't answer. The shapes around her seemed to shift, to turn molten and begin to writhe.

She was losing her mind. …

No, there
was
something in front of her. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, it was gone.

And then she heard something. Behind her. She tried to spin around, but before she could complete the movement there was a sharp, searing pain at the back of her head.

And suddenly the darkness was complete. She crashed down to the cold stone floor, images of death fluttering wildly along the black corridors of her mind. …

Chapter Four

S
trong hands were on her, lifting her. She could just barely feel them. There was a cool touch against her face. Fingers moved gently over the back of her skull.

“You'll be all right.” She heard the words, spoken softly. At least, it seemed that she heard them.

She might have been dreaming. She thought she opened her eyes, but she was in the mist again. She couldn't see very clearly, although she struggled to.

He
was there. Smiling tenderly. He was in those black riding breeches again, knee-high black boots and a white cotton shirt. His fingers stroked her softly. “You'll be all right.”

She tried to see his face. Tried to make out his features. The bump on her head had done things. Nothing was clear. Was she imagining this?

“You'll be all right!”

She heard the words again. A promise on the air? Real or imagined? She was rising, drifting, spinning.

And she
wasn't
all right. She couldn't keep her eyes open. They fell closed once again.

Maybe it was seconds later, maybe eons. She heard her name being called. “Allyssa! Dear Lord, what in God's name …?”

She struggled to open her eyes, struggled against the blackness that had claimed her.

“Brian.” His face was very clear now. The hard, rugged planes of it, the gold of his eyes. She tried to smile. The world was clearing. “Brian.”

“What happened to you?”

His hands were on her once again, touching her cheek, seeking along her skull for damage. Holding her.

She blinked and tried to focus. He was wearing black jeans and a V-necked red sweater against the chill of the night. “You've changed,” she murmured. “You've changed your clothes.”

“You're rambling!” he said anxiously. He rose, lifting her with him into his arms. “Come on. You're coming home with me. Then you can tell me what happened.”

“The castle …” she murmured.

“We're not going to the castle,” he said. He hesitated, searching her face. “Perhaps I should take you into the next town, to the hospital.”

“No, no!” she murmured, her arms tightening around him.

“All right. We'll see,” he agreed. He started walking, carrying her from the family crypt. His horse was obediently waiting for the two of them. He lifted her up, setting her carefully in the saddle, holding her for a moment lest she should lose her balance. Then he leaped up behind her. “Are you all right?” he asked her.

She leaned against him. No, she wasn't all right. She had a pounding headache. But the world had cleared. She was going to be fine. And no matter how frightening things seemed right now, she wasn't afraid. Not when he was behind her, the wall of his chest so secure against her back, the warmth of his arms so tight around her.