No Other Woman (No Other Series) (21 page)

They rode again, turning toward the village. The sun was quite bright for an autumn afternoon in the Highlands, casting brilliant light upon the sloping hills, which were richly green with long grasses in some areas, and blanketed in purple wildflowers in others.

"It's quite beautiful," Sabrina said. "I could imagine living here forever."

Despite herself, Shawna shivered. Her mind played havoc with her heart. Sabrina Connor was young, charming, beautiful.

Innocent of complicity in attempted murder.

She and David didn't even know one another.

But they would soon enough.

They arrived at the tavern before Hawk and Skylar. Shawna warmly greeted the woman who came to serve them. It was Edwina McCloud—the gentle, pleasant woman with whom she had just learned her great-uncle was romantically involved.

"Edwina! How lovely to see you. This is Miss Sabrina Connor, who is the sister of Hawk Douglas's new lady wife. Sabrina, Miss Edwina McCloud."

" 'Tis a pleasure," Edwina said. "And what might I be getting you? Ale, perhaps..." Her voice trailed slightly as she studied Sabrina. "Cider maybe. We've fine cider."

"Ale," Sabrina said. Yet, to Shawna's astonishment, as Edwina continued to stare at her, Sabrina seemed to change her mind. "Perhaps I shall try the cider."

"Cider. Will ye eat nothin', then?" Edwina inquired.

"Aye, but later." Shawna watched the older woman's face. She had once been a stunning woman, and though time had ingrained numerous lines upon her countenance, she was still beautiful, with silver-gray eyes to match the streaks in her abundant auburn hair. She farmed on lands that she tenanted from the MacGinnises, but she worked a few nights a week as well for her cousin, Evan McCloud, who ran the tavern—on land tenanted from the Douglases. "My uncles, cousins, and Laird Douglas from America will be here shortly with his new bride. We'll have something then."

"Aye, then," Edwina said, not seeming to react to the news that Gawain would arrive shortly. As she moved behind the tavern bar to get their drinks, Shawna studied her curiously. Was Edwina aware of Gawain's regard? And did it mean anything? Gawain might have defended the practice of Wicca nobly, but he was a still a proud MacGinnis, from a long line of ancient Highland chieftains, and Edwina was a tavern maid.

Albeit they were both aging a tad.

"The tavern is quite pleasant," Sabrina said, smiling.

"A bit rustic compared to what you've become accustomed to in America?" Shawna asked.

Sabrina shook her head with a wry smile. "I've most recently been with my sister in Dakota Territory—this is high civilization by comparison. Well, I don't mean that exactly, my brother-in-law is quite sophisticated, of course, but it is Indian country, and I can assure you that many of the Indians are not civilized. Well, they're different, I mean. I don't mean to be insulting, they're simply..."

"Savage?" Shawna suggested.

"Definitely. At least some of them are."

"You're—you're quite welcome to stay here, of course," Shawna said, then she broke off.

Brother Damian was back in the tavern. He sat in the corner across from them. He lifted his tankard of ale to her, his cowl shrouding his thickly furred face.

"Who is that? Another local character?" Sabrina asked.

Shawna shook her head. "An irritating visitor," she murmured.

Sabrina turned around. "That harmless friar?" she asked. She smiled to him.

Brother Damian nodded gravely in return.

"M'ladies?" Edwina said.

Shawna smiled at Edwina, and was startled to see that Edwina was regarding Sabrina intently. It gave her a little chill. Some people believed that Edwina's being a witch meant far more than the simple practice of her Wiccan religion. Edwina did have special talent. She could heal sores and blisters and all manner of sicknesses. She was said to have "the sight," and very often, she had made predictions which had come true, most of them regarding the birth of a calf, the arrival of a storm, or the like. The Reverend Massey himself said that she was "touched by God's hand," and though he frowned upon her lack of interest in the Scottish church, he enjoyed debating with her, and stated frankly that he admired her abilities to heal—though, like others, he seemed uneasy with her ability to predict the future. Luckily, Edwina was blessed with the good sense to keep much of what she knew to herself.

"The cider is delicious," Sabrina said, "though I might just as well have tried the ale."

Edwina kept her eyes steadily upon Sabrina. "Cider's good fer the bairn. I've seen far too many goodwives imbibe too freely when with child, and seen children born the more poorly for it."

"Edwina, this is
Miss
Sabrina Connor," Shawna said, frowning, then realized that Sabrina had gone as white as a sheet, and was simply staring at Edwina.

"I don't—I don't know what—" Sabrina began.

But Edwina merely shook her head, glanced around and lowered her voice. "As you wish, Miss Connor. But your child is in danger, as are you—and you, milady."

"Edwina—"

Edwina didn't need prompting. She was anxious to speak quickly, and be done with it.

"I had a dream about the young Laird David. I wandered into the Douglas crypt and he was there, banging at the lid of his coffin, demanding it be opened. He lay there atop the corpse of another man. You were there, Lady Shawna, and he was beckoning to you, demanding that you help him. He said, 'I live, I am laird of the castle, and I'll not lie here murdered and moldering!' But there were people in the shadows of the crypt, and they wanted Laird David to remain dead—and Lady Shawna, they wanted you dead as well and..." She broke off for a moment, shaking her head. Again, she stared at Sabrina. "I don't quite understand my own dreams all the time, but you, Miss Connor, are in grave danger as well. Somehow, it is all connected. And I am telling you this simply because you must take the greatest care."

Shawna stared at her, stunned. She looked around to see whether Edwina might have been overheard.

Brother Damian remained in his back booth, eyes upon them. Shawna turned, and was dismayed to see that Fergus Anderson had taken a seat up at the bar, and was smirking now, indeed having heard every word the woman had said.

"Did ye hear that, Evan, eh? Y'er cousin Edwina here is telling our fine Lady MacGinnis that David Douglas lives!" He fell into a gale of laughter. "Alas, Edwina, be off with you! Leave the poor lady alone. They say the pair were destined to marry, yet what horror she'd have with a burned and shriveled corpse of a man!"

"Fergus!" Came a roar from the tavern's door. Fergus cast his hand to his eyes to shield them from the sudden last streaks of golden daylight that flooded in upon them from the opening of the door.

"Why, 'tis the savage!" Fergus muttered to the man at his side.

Sabrina Connor was suddenly up, slapping Fergus across the face. "Don't you call my brother-in-law a savage, you sodden dreg!" she snapped.

Shawna was just as quickly up beside her, coming between Sabrina and Fergus as the man leapt to his feet to do drunken battle. But it didn't matter. Hawk Douglas had been at the door, and he now advanced among them, catching Fergus by his lapels and drawing him close. "I don't take kindly to drunkards discussing my brother—alive or dead. You've had enough. Go home, Fergus."

Fergus stood dead still, staring at Hawk. "Lairds, ladies—and savages!" he muttered. "They rule over all, and think that they can take your life, your time—aye, even a man's bairns!"

"Nothing's been taken from you, Fergus," Shawna said angrily. "Everything's been done for you!"

"How's me wee boy doing—
Lady
Shawna?" Fergus demanded.

"Your lad is in fine hands," she assured him.

"Go on, Fergus, get out," Hawk said, releasing the man.

Fergus adjusted his collar rebelliously, then left the tavern. Shawna was startled at the way Hawk's eyes touched hers, for he seemed neither distrustful nor angry. "His lad?"

"The child nearly died in the mines the other day. He was rescued by—" She hesitated. "He miraculously made it out. I've given him work at Castle Rock. I hope you approve."

"Immensely."

By then, Skylar Douglas was at her husband's side, Gawain and Aidan had arrived, and a fair amount of confusion began in greetings and explanations.

Shawna noted that Brother Damian seemed to have slipped out.

And that Sabrina Connor remained an ashen shade throughout the evening, her color changing only when she happened to glance Shawna's way.

Then her cheeks turned crimson.

* * *

Feeling exceptionally tired and eager to be alone, Shawna managed to leave the tavern ahead of the others.

Night was just falling when she rode back toward Castle Rock. Beautiful yet eerie streaks of light in shades of gold and crimson seemed to splash down upon the landscape, reflecting off the distant Druid Stones. Enchanted by the sight, Shawna drew her horse to a halt by a shadowed copse of trees and there dismounted, leaning against a tree and staring toward the hill where the Druid Stones rose.

She was there several long moments before she turned to gaze at the crest of a small hill just at the end of the copse. A man stood there. A kilted Highlander, caught in a silhouette in the strange shadows of the dying day. He seemed very tall, facing the wind, as strong as the rock upon which he stood. Then quite suddenly, he moved, and Shawna realized that he was coming toward her. She recalled in that instant that an attempt had been made on her life, and she turned swiftly in panic, determined to reach her horse and ride hard for Castle Rock and safety.

"Shawna!" she heard, and she paused, spinning around. The Highlander had come down from his hill. David walked toward her in the golden glow of the setting sun, handsome in the radiance of color in which he had been caught. She had seen him only in darkness until now, she realized. Only in shadow.

By daylight, she thought, he was as dazzling as the rays of the sun. She wanted to run to him. She wanted to throw her arms around him. She wanted to be plucked up in the strength of his arms, held tenderly against him. But suspicions and accusations remained, and only in the shadow of night could she allow herself to touch him.

He paused before her, the breeze catching his dark hair, blowing it against the strong contours of his face.

"David. In the flesh. By daylight. My laird, I am honored," she said, and curtsied, a small smile playing upon her lips.

"Honored, indeed!" he retorted, and she was suddenly where she wanted to be, lifted into his arms, held against his chest...

And hurried into the shadows of the copse.

Still, the sweet scent of the foliage surrounded them; streaks of crimson and gold fought their way through the high-arching branches of the trees to continue to cast the colors of daylight upon them. He strode with her to a group of huge rocks that sat by a bubbling stream as if they had been cast there by the careless hand of a Titan. He seated her upon one, then set his own booted foot upon it before crossing his arms over his chest in what seemed to be the stern mode of the Highland men who filled her life.

"What in God's name are you doing alone?" he demanded.

She smiled, smoothing back a stray strand of hair. "I'm not alone. I'm in the company of an extremely powerful and annoying ghost."

He cupped her chin, raising her face to his. "Shawna, not even powerful ghosts can be everywhere. You've—"

"You seem to have a knack for being everywhere."

"Well, my lady, I do try—but I fear that not being among the truly dead, I am not infallible. Shawna, you are not to ride alone."

"But David—"

"You are not to ride alone!" His touch upon her tightened. She gritted her teeth, ready to argue. But he released her chin, stroking her cheek with his knuckle, and he repeated himself softly. "You are not to ride alone!"

"I had to get away from the tavern, from the others," she said.

He shook his head. "Never alone, Shawna, and never with just one member of your family."

"David—"

"Please."

She sighed.

"There is an answer, and I will find it. Bit by bit, the secrets that have been kept by people here will begin to unravel."

"What have you discovered?"

He hesitated. "Let's say for the moment that I've discovered new ideas regarding where to search," he told her.

"Where?" Shawna demanded.

"When I've a better idea of exactly what I'm up to, I'll tell you."

"Really?"

"I promise to keep you advised. If you promise not to be alone."

"As you wish,
Laird
Douglas," she told him, not trusting herself to say more. She lowered her lashes, lightly biting into her lower lip. She looked at him again. "But, David?"

"Aye?"

"I have ridden here now, and there are remnants of daylight about us. And it is really beautiful here, David, isn't it? The rocks strewn about the valley, the crystal stream, the color of the coming night. It's something of why we've always fought to be Highlanders, fought for Craig Rock itself, and her people, isn't it?" she asked wistfully.

He smiled. Leaning toward her, he again touched her face, this time, his palm cradling her cheek. His face was very close to her own. Within the copse of trees, it felt as if they were alone at the ends of the earth, the shift of the breeze and the bubbling of the brook a melodic song about them. His mouth touched hers... so gently at first and then his tongue caressed her so deeply, awakening a delicious ache within her.

He suddenly drew away from her. "Horses," he said.

"What?"

"The others are coming from the tavern, I can hear the horses. There, that way, get your horse, and join them."

She hadn't heard a thing, but as she turned in the direction he had pointed, she heard the sounds of laughter and voices in casual conversation. She turned back to David.

But he was gone.

The brook continued to bubble. The breeze rose and whispered.

Her ghost had vanished along with the last golden streaks of daylight.