The Secret Gift (35 page)

“I have no intention of ever hurting Libby.”

“Grand.” Flora smiled at him. “I dinna think you would.”

A voice suddenly called out from the crowd. “How about giving us all a song, Flora lass?”

Flora reached out, squeezed Graeme’s hand, and nodded to indicate the understanding between them before she headed for the bandstand.

The voices in the hall quieted the moment Flora took to the stage, as if every person there held their breath ... and waited. The lights dimmed. A fiddle player came to stand beside her. He positioned his bow, slid it over the strings of his instrument to play the beginning notes of the song. A moment later, Flora opened her mouth and began to sing.

It wasn’t just singing. Singing somehow didn’t adequately describe the spell she began to spin with her voice. It was a mystical, captivating mixture of pitches and words, without the need of any musical accompaniment. She sang in the tongue of the Gael, a haunting song that enchanted everyone just as thoroughly as Old Gil had enchanted the children with his stories. Flora’s voice filled the room, rich and throaty and pure, and though Graeme couldn’t understand the words she sang, he knew it was a song of love. It was in her expression, and reflected in the faces of every person there as mothers took hold of their children and lovers stood together in each other’s arms.

Graeme crossed the room, found Libby standing at the back of Flora’s audience. He came up behind her and wrapped her in the circle of his arms. She leaned her head back against his chest, sighing softly. Nothing had ever felt so natural, so right, as just the two of them standing there, cloaked in the shadows of the hall.

He waited until Flora had finished her song, and then, while the others were cheering applause, he said into her ear, “I’ve something I need to say to you.”

Libby turned to face him, blinking in the low light. The voices, the very presence of the others, seemed to melt away as he stared into those incredible gray-blue eyes. It was as if it were just the two of them standing in that hall. Just the two of them standing on the edge of the world—a world he hoped the two of them would share.

Graeme took Libby’s hands. “First, I want you to know that the past weeks, since you came to the village, have been truly remarkable for me.”

She smiled. “For me, too. I was just thinking, I—”

“Shh ...” He put his fingers against her lips. “There’s more. I need to get this said.”

She nodded, suddenly nervous as she took a breath.

“Libby, I’ve never met anyone like you. You make me feel wonderful whenever I’m with you. When I’m not with you, I count the minutes until I can be again. But there is a part of my life that you do not know about. I am—”

“Excuse me, Mr. Mackenzie. I’m sorry to interrupt. Libby, I need to speak with you.”

Graeme hadn’t even noticed that the police constable had come up beside them.

“Can this wait, Constable?” Graeme said, his voice edged with annoyance. “We’re in the middle of something.”

“I’m afraid it can’t. Believe me, I would rather be doing anything other than this right now, but—”

“Have you told her yet, Constable MacLeith?”

Libby blinked, trying to figure out how Angus and Lady Venetia had suddenly appeared when moments before she’d been lost in Graeme’s eyes.

“Not just yet, Lady Venetia. I was just getting to it.”

“Getting to what?” Graeme was not at all pleased.

Angus turned to Libby. “Libby, do you have on your person a crystal stone suspended from a silver chain?”

Libby lifted a hand in a protective gesture to her neck. “Why do you ask?”

“Lady Venetia has acquired an order from the Sheriff Court and I have been charged with recovering this stone from you. She has made a claim that it was stolen from her thirty years ago. By your mother.”

Libby shook her head. “My mother did not steal it. It was given to her by my father!”

The other villagers had begun to take notice of the exchange. A crowd started to gather around them.

“Her mother was a maid in my employ at the castle,” Lady Venetia said. “I dismissed her because she had been found stealing from us.”

Libby rounded on her. “You dismissed her because she fell in love with your son! My mother was not a thief.” She turned to the constable. “Angus, this is a mistake. My mother left me this stone when she passed away. It was a gift to her from my father, Fraser Mackay.”

Angus looked as if he would have preferred to have been anywhere—anywhere on earth—other than right there, right then.

“Libby, do you have any proof that your mother received this stone from your father as a gift?”

She closed her eyes, fighting tears. She shook her head. “Of course not.”

“Then I’m sorry, but she’s gotten an order from the court. My chief constable has instructed me to retrieve the stone and return it to Lady Venetia. You can contact the sheriff and request a hearing to give your side of the story. But in the meantime, I have no choice. I have to take the stone.”

“Just a minute.” Graeme stepped forward, looking at Lady Venetia. “You would do this to your own granddaughter?”

“She is not my granddaughter.”

“She is, and she is the only family you have. You might resent her mother for whatever wrong you feel she did, but what has Libby done to you? She only came here looking for the truth.”

“You seem to forget, Mr. Mackenzie, she has begun litigation to take my home from me.”

“You sold that home, and you’re trying to sell the rest of the estate, putting all of these people here at risk of losing their jobs, their homes, and their lives. Libby is only trying to stop that from happening.”

Lady Venetia looked around at the crowd of villagers, the same villagers she had held under the weight of her influence for decades. Only now, instead of looking at her with deference and even fear, they looked at her with open censure.

“I never wanted to live here. I thought after we married, we’d live in London or even Paris, come here in the summers for a week or two. But instead he stuck me out here in the middle of nowhere, surrounded with nothing but backward, simple people. I hated it here. I hated everything about this place. Because it was this place that brought her mother into our lives. And because of her, I lost my only son.”

Lady Venetia took hold of herself, looked at Angus. “I want my stone, Constable MacLeith. And I want it
now.”

Angus looked at Libby. “Libby ...”

“How much?” Graeme said, still unwilling to give in. He knew how much that stone meant to Libby, and he would pay anything to keep it for her. “You were willing to sell this estate for money. How much for the stone? I’ll pay you whatever you want for it.”

But Lady Venetia merely smirked. “This isn’t about money, Mr. Mackenzie.”

“No, it’s not, is it? It’s about revenge. Your need to get revenge on Libby’s mother, and in absence of her, Libby herself, for the tragic loss of your son, even as you refuse to admit it is a loss for which you were the more responsible.”

Lady Venetia stared at Graeme, her eyes stony, untouched. “Constable ... I’m waiting.”

Angus said defeatedly, “Libby.”

Libby reached for the chain and slid it over her head. Almost as soon as she took it from around her neck, the stone seemed to color, brightening to a sharp, burning yellow. Some of the people gathered around them gasped. Others murmured, shaking their heads. Someone whispered “no” as Libby held the stone out, her hand trembling. Angus took it quickly from her.

Lady Venetia snatched the stone even before he could give it to her and dropped it into her pocketbook. She pointed a finger at Libby. “I warned your mother that she would regret interfering in my life.”

Libby stood there, saying nothing, staring at Lady Venetia in disbelief as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“You’ve gotten what you came for,” Graeme said. “So why don’t you go now? I’m sure I speak for everybody here when I tell you that you are not welcome at this gathering.”

The villagers nodded, murmuring their agreement.

“Believe me, Mr. Mackenzie, I am more than happy to see the last of this godforsaken place.”

And with that, Lady Venetia turned and walked from the village hall.

When Graeme and Libby got back to the castle that night, they could hear a telephone ringing insistently inside.

They’d accepted a ride back from the village with Angus, who felt terrible about the part he’d had to play in that evening’s events. As Libby stood on the drive, assuring him he’d had no choice in the matter, Graeme, went running for the door to answer the still-ringing call.

They were still standing on the courtyard outside when Graeme returned ten minutes later.

“I’ve got to go to London,” he said abruptly.

“Now?” Libby said. “But Graeme, it’s after midnight!”

“I know. I’ve got an emergency meeting at eight o’clock in the morning. I don’t even have time to call for a charter. I’ve got to leave for Inverness now so I can catch the five a.m. flight.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

He tossed a bag in the back of the Land Rover. “No. I’ll be back by tomorrow afternoon. I’m sorry, Libby. I wouldn’t leave under any other circumstances. Especially after everything that happened tonight.” He looked at her. “Bloody hell, I’ll just call them back, tell them I can’t be there.”

Libby shook her head. “No, no. This project is too important for you. Please. Go. Everything will be fine.”

“Are you certain you’ll be all right here? I really don’t like leaving you alone.”

Angus stepped in. “I’ll take her back with me to spend the night with Flora and the kids. I know Flora would love it.”

Graeme looked at Libby. “All right?”

She nodded. “Yes, yes. That’s fine. Don’t worry. You’d better go, or you’ll be late.”

Graeme kissed her quickly and then turned for the Land Rover.

He was gone in seconds, tearing down the drive in a cloud of gravel and dust.

When Graeme returned to the castle late the next afternoon, Libby wasn’t there.

“She must still be at Flora’s,” he said to his mother and his uncle, who had both accompanied him on the flight back from London. “I’m sure she’ll be back soon.”

They retired to the drawing room for a glass of claret and to wait for her return.

When she didn’t return by six that evening, Graeme picked up the phone to call Flora. She answered on the third ring.

“Hallo?”

“Flora. It’s Graeme Mackenzie. Is Libby still there?”

“Ehm ...”

Graeme knew immediately that something was wrong. “What is it? What’s happened?”

“Haven’t you seen the newspaper today?”

“Which newspaper, Flora?” And then he realized it didn’t matter. “What did it say?”

“It was an announcement of your engagement to the daughter of some nobleman. Or should I say the engagement of someone named Lord Waltham, who looked very much like you, to the daughter of some earl named Cleary.”

Graeme responded with a word he rarely ever used in public. He dropped his head forward and took a breath, realizing his worst fear had just come true. It was then he noticed the newspaper, sitting on the hall table. He took it up, scanned its front page, and found the headline almost immediately.

GRANSBOROUGH HEIR TO WED THE EARL OF CLEARY’S ELDEST DAUGHTER.

It was an exclusive interview that had been granted by Amaranthe herself. The text stated that negotiations had been opened and that a formal announcement was imminent. “We’re planning for the ceremony in early May,” she’d been quoted as saying, “with a honeymoon in France,” When asked how she had managed to snare the elusive and much-sought-after Lord Waltham, she replied merely that they’d known each other since they’d been children and had always been quite close, making it seem as if “catching” Graeme had never been an issue at all.

According to her, she’d already “caught” him long, long ago.

A photo of Graeme appeared beside the story with a caption that read, “The prospective groom: Graeme Mackenzie, Marquess of Waltham.” It was set beside another photo, this one of Amaranthe, smiling and looking practically engaged.

Bloody hell.

Graeme picked up the receiver again, not even sure if Flora was still there.

She was.

“Where is she, Flora? Where’s Libby?”

“Before I tell you, I want you to answer me something. Is it true?”

“Damn it, Flora!”

“I mean it. I’m not going to say another word until you give me the truth. Are you going to marry that other girl?”

“No, I’m not. This is a mistake. A big, unbelievably badly timed mistake. Please, Flora. I need to talk to Libby. I need to explain this to her. Now.”

Flora fell quiet for a moment, considering. Then she said, “Don’t make me regret this. She’s at the village hall, making arrangements for Ian M’Cuick and Sean MacNaeish to stand in her stead with the legal proceedings in Edinburgh. She’s also meeting with all of the villagers to offer to sell them their plots of land from the estate. Her attorney has arranged for financial help through mortgages and grants with the Highland Council. She’s leaving for Edinburgh just as soon as she’s finished, and then, after the arrangements have been finalized for the estate, she’ll be returning to the States.”

“Bloody hell she will.”

Graeme didn’t even bother to say good-bye.

He strode into the drawing room and shoved the newspaper under the duke’s nose. “Just tell me you didn’t have anything to do with this.”

The duke looked at the article, registering genuine surprise as he shook his head. “Of course not, Graeme. I would never do something so underhanded. Cleary must have thought he could force your hand by announcing it prematurely to the press. Devil take him.”

“Graeme.” The countess, his mother, came forward. “I take it Libby saw this.”

“Yes.”

“Do you know where she has gone?”

“Yes. Presently she’s at the village hall. However, she’s planning to leave for Edinburgh, and then eventually return to the States.”

“Well, what are you standing here with us for? Don’t you think you ought to stop her before she does?”