Devil's Bargain

by Natasha Knight

  “Never talk about me with him again. Never. Understand?”

  “That’s not…I didn’t—”

  He straightens, eyes intense on me. “He heard me coming.”

  “He seems nice, Hawk.”

  “He set you up, Melissa. He knew I’d hear what you’d say.”

  I realize he’s right. Declan had recognized the sound I hadn’t. But I can’t believe he’d set me up, the way Hawk is implying it.

  “That’s what he does. He fucks with people. It’s a game to him. And I don’t want you talking to him. Am I understood?”

  “It was nothing—”

  “Nothing is nothing. Not with Declan. You don’t know what he’s capable of. Stay away from my brother. It’s the last time I’ll say it.” His accent comes and goes, and it catches me off guard.

  “Where were you?”

  He brings the bottle to his mouth, drinks. I wonder how much he’s already drunk. If the bottle was full when he started.

  I try to take it from him, but he doesn’t let me. Instead, he grips my arm to hold me away and purposefully takes another swig.

  “Did you miss me?” he asks.

  “What’s wrong with you? Why are you being like this?”

  He releases me, steps away, turning his back to me. He drinks again, goes to the window. I watch his face in the reflection.

  “The cemetery’s about a mile up the road.”

  “Cemetery? You went to the cemetery in the middle of the night?”

  “I wanted to see my father’s grave.”

  “I would have gone with you tomorrow. In the morning.” I go to him, touch his shoulder. “You’re soaked, Hawk. Covered in mud. Did you walk there?”

  “They didn’t even wait to bury him. They couldn’t even give me that.”

  When he won’t turn to me, I slip between him and the counter. I touch his face, push the wet hair back.

  He looks down at me and what I see is sadness. An immense well of it.

  This is a different man than the one I know. The one I met only a few nights ago.

  Has it only been a few nights?

  With everything that’s happened, it feels like a lifetime.

  “Go up to bed, Melissa. I need to be alone.”

  “I’ve slept all afternoon. I can stay.”

  He studies me, scans the room, the walls, the ceiling. “I didn’t think it’d be like this. All the memories.” He drinks again.

  “Hey, I’m here,” I say.

  “Don’t be so kind to me, sweetheart. I don’t deserve it.”

  “I see you, you know? I see what you try to hide.”

  He takes long swallows from the bottle, gulps of the stuff, before setting it down. He’s so close, pressing me between the counter and him with his arms on either side of me. With one hand, he touches my hair gently.

  He hasn’t slept, I know that. Hasn’t changed clothes since yesterday. I wonder if he’s even eaten.

  And all I can do is stand here and watch him.

  “What do you see then?” he asks and the way he asks it, it remind me how gentle he can be. How opposite the gruff exterior.

  “A good man.”

  He snorts.

  “No, I mean it.”

  He touches my cheek, brushes hair back behind my ear.

  “You’re so pretty, Melissa.”

  “You’re so drunk, Hawk.”

  He ignores what I say, touches his thumb to my lower lip. “And you’re the one who’s good. You deserve better than what you’ve gotten.”

  His words startle me. Confuse me. Take me momentarily out of this reality and into my past.

  I should ask him what he means, but I don’t want to. I don’t want to spoil this.

  “I’m not a good man, sweetheart,” he continues. “Don’t make that mistake.”

  “It’s not a mistake.”

  I don’t think the shadows under his eyes are from fatigue or too much drink even if he hasn’t slept since we left Vegas. I think it’s from the intense sadness I feel coming off him.

  “Hey, I mean it,” I say.

  He gives me a quick smile, just the lifting of one corner of his mouth, then turns and walks to the door, picking up the bottle on his way, pausing for one moment there but not turning around.

  “You don’t know what I’m capable of either, Melissa,” he says, and walks out.

  27

  Melissa

  I don’t know where Hawk spent the night or where he is this morning, but it’s almost ten o’clock when I’m walking down the stairs of the big house because I somehow managed to fall asleep again after the episode in the kitchen.

  “She’s here!” I hear a little boy’s excited, loud whisper.

  “James, give her a little space,” I hear Declan say as I get to the first floor and see the big fire already burning in the fireplace. Lamps are lit through the room and I think they must need them on all day long because of the weather and thick walls of the house.

  The little boy steps up to me with a wide smile on his face and Declan follows with an apologetic look on his.

  “Hello. I’m James Declan Scott,” he says. “Almost laird of this house.”

  “James,” Declan says in a chastising tone.

  I crouch down so I’m at eye level and see that he has Hawk’s eyes almost exactly. Their strange color is the same, but Hawk’s hold none of the innocence this boy’s do.

  “It’s wonderful to meet you, James. I’m Melissa and I was hoping you’d be here when I woke.”

  “You were?” he asks, eyes brightening as I straighten.

  “I saw your toy train last night and, well, I loved trains when I was a little girl and haven’t played with them much since.”

  “Are you sure? Girls don’t like trains, Melissa,” he says, his expression very serious, very much like Hawk’s.

  “You look a lot like your father and uncle,” I say.

  He smiles broadly again. “Thank you. About the trains…”

  I look up at Declan who comes closer, ruffles his hair. “She just woke up, son.”

  “No, it’s fine. And as far as those trains, a lot of girls like to play with them. Just like a lot of boys like to play with dolls.”

  He makes a face. “Not me.”

  I laugh.

  “Would you like some coffee? Breakfast?” Declan asks.

  “I’d love coffee. Do you know where Hawk is?”

  “Second time you ask me that in the two times we meet,” Declan says as he turns toward the kitchen. I walk beside him. “And my answer is the same. Who knows?”

  James comes to my other side and takes my hand in his little one. I’m surprised by this. Warmed by it.

  “I saw him this morning, Melissa. He said he was going to the tower,” James says.

  “You’re not to be in that part of the house, James. You know that.”

  James rolls his eyes at his father and it’s so exaggerated, I cover my mouth so as not to laugh. “I didn’t say I went with him. He just told me when I saw him this morning. And I told him to be careful.”

  “Don’t roll your eyes at me, mister,” Declan says teasingly as he opens the kitchen door for me to walk through it.

  “She’s pretty,” James whispers behind me. At least I think he intended on whispering but it’s loud enough for me to hear.

  “She’s very pretty,” Declan says. “And she’s too old for you.”

  I smile.

  “How old is the house?” I ask after meeting the cook, Alice, and sitting down with coffee.

  Declan sips his while James sits on the counter talking to Alice and eating a cookie.

  “Centuries. It was built by my ancestors in the early 1500s.”

  “That’s amazing.”

  “We’ve done pretty well with restoring and keeping up renovations, but as you can see, things aren’t what they used to be. These houses are expensive to keep, and the estate is now bankrupt, but that’s my brother’s problem now.”

  “
What do you mean?”

  “I signed the papers this morning. At least we’ll keep the distillery open.”

  “I don’t understand, Declan.”

  He puts his cup down and looks at me. “Do you know why Hawk left Scotland?”

  I shake my head.

  “Has he told you anything at all?”

  I look into my cup, embarrassed that my answer is no.

  “Alice,” he says, his tone authoritative, different than when he talks to me. “Take James inside. Get him dressed and ready to go into town.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Will you come with us, Melissa?” James asks.

  “Go, James. Or we’ll be late,” Declan says.

  I don’t get a chance to answer as he’s ushered out.

  Declan waits until the door closes before speaking.

  “You asked what the tension is between my brother and me and I’ll tell you. You should know and it’s not only Hawk’s story to tell. It’s mine too.

  “My mother and father were having an affair while Hawk’s mother was still alive. While she was lady of this house. My own mother, Ann was her name, was a maid. I’m the result of that affair.

  “Hawk’s mother died young and when my father married my mother and claimed me as his own blood, everything changed between Hawk and I. We were less brothers then than we were before either of us knew we shared blood.”

  “That’s why he left?”

  Declan shakes his head. “My mother was much younger than our father. And she was not as committed to our father as she should have been,” he says, looking away momentarily. “Hawk was trying to protect his father, but he went about it wrong.”

  “Protect your father against what?”

  “Having his fortune squandered. Having his new wife steal Hawk’s legacy out from under him,” he pauses, sips the last of his coffee. “When Hawk exposed one of her many affairs, I’m sure he thought that would be enough. That our father would divorce her, and they could go back to being their own little family mourning for his long dead mother. But Ann, well, I’ll just say she had a great deal of influence over my father. I think she could get away with murder when it came to him. And after the accusation, my father chose Ann over Hawk. He disowned his son.”

  “How old was Hawk?”

  “Sixteen.”

  “That’s why he left.”

  Declan nods. “And why he’s so filled with hate. Why he’s done what he’s done over the last decade of our lives.”

  “Which is?”

  “Look around you. This house was grand when I was a boy. Look at it now.”

  “He’ll fix it, I’m sure. He has the means—”

  “It’s not only that, Melissa. The family has lived in the house together for centuries. I’ve lived here since I was born, in the servants’ quarters to start, then as the laird’s son. My son deserves to grow up here. It’s his legacy as much as mine or Hawk’s. But my brother will be taking that away from the boy.”

  My mouth falls open. “He wouldn’t…”

  Declan shakes his head, stands. “I’ve said too much. I don’t mean to upset you.”

  “I’m not…it’s not your fault. I appreciate you telling me.”

  “I’m going to take James into town. He needs to see the eye doctor. You’re welcome to join us if you like. You need a jacket if you don’t have one. And better shoes. Those won’t do here, not if you want to stay dry.”

  “Hawk—”

  “Hawk isn’t here, is he?” Declan points out, gaze locked on mine.

  The door opens and James enters the kitchen wearing a rain coat and galoshes and holding a small umbrella. “Ready! You’ll come, Melissa? I’ll even take you to get the best chocolate cake in the whole world.”

  Declan moves to stand beside James as they wait for my answer.

  It only takes me a moment to reply because Declan’s right. Hawk isn’t here. And because Declan’s been more open with me in two short meetings than Hawk ever has.

  “I’d love to. Just let me grab my bag.”

  I don’t run into Hawk on the way back upstairs and don’t see him anywhere in the house. Declan lends me a jacket which is about five sizes too big. When I slip my arms into it, I realize it’s his from the scent of aftershave clinging to it. I find myself glancing back to be sure Hawk isn’t coming around a corner because if he was angry about me talking to Declan yesterday, he’ll flip when he sees me wearing his jacket.

  We climb into Declan’s older model Range Rover and head into town.

  “This bridge scares me,” I say as we cross it.

  Declan smiles wide, glancing over at me. I see two dimples beneath the scruff along his sharp jaw. His dark hair is messy, and he looks like he hasn’t shaved in two days. He’s wearing a Barbour jacket that looks well broken in and all I can think is how opposite he looks to Hawk right now. How this is the side of himself that Hawk hides beneath his expensive suits.

  “Bridge is fine. It’ll be here long after we’re gone. Don’t fret, Melissa.”

  James tells me the story of how they figured out he needs glasses just a few weeks ago and how he’ll have them before starting school in the fall. The first day apparently falls on his fifth birthday. He also tells me that he’s going to be getting a nanny soon. One he hopes is as pretty as me.

  I smile at him.

  Declan rolls his eyes and gives me a wink at James’ stories. I see he’s proud of his son, though. I wonder about James’ mother but am not quite brave enough to ask about the woman I’d seen in that photograph.

  It’s raining softly when we get into town and Declan rummages through the trunk for an umbrella.

  “I don’t mind the rain,” I say as I help James open his little one.

  “You can borrow my umbrella,” James says when Declan doesn’t find one. “I know girls don’t like getting their hair wet.”

  “You make a lot of assumptions about girls, little man,” I tell him as we walk into town.

  I’m looking into every shop window we pass and listening to the language I should understand but struggle to with the accent.

  Declan and James seem to know everyone we pass, and I’m introduced to curious eyes, made more curious when they hear Hawk’s back in town.

  “This Hawk’s woman?” an old man asks, openly looking me over. It’s not in a leering way though, and at the end, he gives an approving nod. “She needs more meat on her bones but otherwise, she’ll do.”

  “He realizes I’m standing right here, right?” I ask Declan when the man walks away.

  Declan laughs and we enter the eyeglass shop where James goes directly to the doctor. I follow with Declan as the doctor brings out a box. Inside is a small pair of round red glasses.

  James’ face lights up when he sees them, and he looks at himself in the mirror as the doctor positions them. He gives himself a nod of approval before turning to his father.

  Declan crouches down and James steps toward him, peering into Declan’s face.

  James touches the scruff on Declan’s jaw, seems to search his face as if it’s the first time he’s seeing it. “Is this how you see, dad?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Not so blurry.”

  Declan laughs again and hugs James. I see how his eyes glisten. “I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to figure out you need glasses,” he says.

  “It’s not your fault. I didn’t know either,” James says like a little man. He turns to look up at me, gives me a nod like the old man did. “You’re even prettier now, Melissa.”

  “Well, thank you,” I say with a blush.

  We head out to a clothing store where I try on a jacket similar to the one I’m wearing but a woman’s model.

  “I’m not sure how long I’ll be here,” I say to Declan. The jacket is quite expensive, and it may not be worth my buying it if we leave in a few days.

  “You’ll be here a little while, Melissa. There’s much for my brother to do.” He turns to the sa
les lady. “She needs a smaller size, I think.”

  The woman looks at the inventory on her computer, but they don’t have my size at the shop. She arranges to have one sent directly to the house from a shop in Inverness that afternoon, though.

  I end up with that and three sweaters. I also choose a pair of boots that Declan suggests but when we get to the counter, he takes out his wallet to pay.

  “I can pay for my clothes,” I say.

  “You’re our guest, Melissa,” he says.

  “Declan, it’s expensive—”

  He looks down at me. “Put your wallet away.”

  I try again, but he nudges me aside and the woman runs his card through. I thank him, making a mental note of the amount to send him a check.

  “Let’s get cake!” James yells once we’re outside.

  The sun is just peeking through a break in the clouds and it’s bright on the wet streets and rooftops.

  “The sun is amazing here,” I say.

  “When it deigns to shine on us,” Declan says, squinting up into it.

  I look at him with his wide smile, my bag in one hand, James’ hand in the other and again, I find myself wondering about James’ mother.

  “Cake,” James urges, tugging a little.

  “You have a sweet tooth,” Declan says, and gestures to the tea shop across the street. It’s the one I’d noticed as we drove through town yesterday.

  We walk inside and the waitress, an older woman, immediately smiles brightly at James who hugs her tightly.

  “Don’t you look handsome,” she says to James. She shifts her gaze up to Declan, then me, looking me over from head to toe.

  “Well, well,” she starts. “The girls around here will be sorry to hear you weren’t alone.”

  “You shouldn’t be gossiping with the girls around here, Mary,” Declan says, giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “This is Melissa. She’s my brother’s girlfriend.”

  The word girlfriend catches me off guard and I have to remind myself that’s not what I am. Not at all.

  The woman looks shocked. “Hawk’s back? Well of course he is with your father’s passing. Of course, he is.”

  I notice she doesn’t mention Declan’s mother’s passing and a glance at Declan makes me think he’s noted it too.