“I—”
“Don’t say that you can’t.”
“What about Mike?”
“I’ve already asked Molly to stay.” His eyes searched hers when he spoke again. “A double date, you might say. With Julie McNamara and her husband, William. You’ve met Julie, I heard.”
“You really do seem to know everything.”
He shrugged, looking down at his blueprint again. “Finding that out hardly called for James Bond.” He was grinning when he gazed up at her again. “There’s only one bookstore anyone from around here would suggest, and that’s Julie’s. And when I had occasion to talk to her, she mentioned how much she had liked you.”
Kit considered his offer for only a second. “Fine—if you’re sure Molly doesn’t mind.”
“Molly adores Mike. Kit...”
She stiffened automatically at his tone. “What?”
“I have to go to Dublin soon. I was thinking of leaving on All Souls’ Day, and I want you to come. Now wait! I can’t leave you here alone—”
“I’d be with Molly.”
“Still, I’d rather that you were with me. And surely you need to go to Dublin. She’s a big city, but in many ways the heart of our history lies there. The Viking invaders founded her, and then there was Cromwell, not to forget our quest for the dethroned James, and then—”
“I’ll go.”
“That simply?”
She nodded, lowering her eyes. “You’re right—I need to go to Dublin. For one thing, I have the names of a few photographers there. For another...”
“Go on.”
“I like the idea of dating. I...love you, Justin. I’m just afraid of the future.”
He watched her for a while, then turned back to his work. “Tonight we need to leave about seven. We’ve reservations at an Italian restaurant—”
“An Italian restaurant in Shallywae?”
“In Cork. And Italian restaurants are found the world over. We’re not backward, my love. Seven?”
“Seven.”
He lowered his head, a frown of concentration instantly knitting his brow.
Kit hesitated, then asked, “Justin?”
“Aye?”
“Why were you really arguing with Douglas Johnston yesterday?”
A shield fell instantly over his eyes. “I told you—a soccer game.”
“You’re lying.”
“Kit, I’m busy.”
She didn’t feel like accepting that particular rebuff. “I’ll plague you until you tell me the truth,” she told him, then walked out and closed his door with a bang.
* * *
The restaurant was very Italian, and Kit loved it. There were fountains and vines, and wine bottles dangling from wicker baskets along the walls. Justin ordered a vintage wine before dinner, and it went down smoothly. Before they even ordered, Kit was feeling lazy and very much at ease.
Julie’s husband already knew Justin, and he seemed genuinely pleased to meet her. William was friendly and easygoing, and as eager as Julie to offer suggestions about her book. Seeing Julie again was nice, too, but the best part of the evening was Justin.
He was in a black three-piece suit, and he wore it with a negligent masculine flair that made her feel breathless even before she touched her wine. His after-shave smelled delicious, and his hair, still slightly damp from the shower, was like ink and continued to fall rakishly over his forehead. He was the most striking man she had ever seen, and he loved her....
Her heart began to pound. She would never be able to leave him, so why did she keep holding back?
For a moment she closed her eyes, dizzy. He’d never once suggested that they could spend time in the States. No, he was the O’Niall, and Ireland was his home. He’d never suggested that they go easy with Mike, that perhaps he could adopt him first, then explain. It was all such a mess.
“Is that all right with you, Kit?” Justin was staring at her from his side of the small table.
“Uh...fine,” she murmured, unwilling to admit that she hadn’t been paying the slightest attention.
It was fine, though. He ordered too many courses for her to deal comfortably with, but she tasted them all, and they were all delicious. The show they went on to see was a Shakespeare comedy, ably performed.
By the time they parted for the evening, promising to do this again, Kit was completely relaxed. She smiled and closed her eyes as she sat next to Justin in the car. She felt his eyes on her, and she kept smiling, but she didn’t look at him.
His fingers curled over hers and he carried her hand to his knee. She inched it higher on his thigh until he made a slight growling sound—and returned her hand to his knee.
“Sex, sex, sex. All you want is my body—and you won’t even marry me,” he complained teasingly.
“Justin—”
“Never mind. I don’t want to hear it tonight.” He turned to smile at her. “I have an idea. Let’s go to the cottage tonight.”
“We can’t stay out that late.”
“Molly is staying overnight.”
“Where? I’m in the guest room.”
He chuckled softly. “Kit, there are rooms in that place where I haven’t been myself in months. Years, maybe. It’s small as castles go, but it’s still got a lot of space.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Justin, please tell me. What were you and Douglas arguing about?”
He stiffened. “Are you bribing me?”
“No, I just want to know!”
He hesitated, his eyes on the road. “I accused him of putting the doll on your front walk.”
Kit gasped out loud and turned on him, almost causing him to drive off the road.
“Kit, for God’s sake—”
“For God’s sake is right, Justin! You think he might have done that but you didn’t tell me, and I’ve let my son—”
“Kit, stop it! He’s my son, too. If I thought there was any danger to him—”
“Any danger! You’re telling me that Douglas Johnston might be a murderer, but there’s no danger—”
“I didn’t say that. And it isn’t possible. Douglas wasn’t even in town when Susan was killed. I thought he might have put the doll there to scare you away.” He paused. “Just like I think Liam O’Grady was running around in that cloak and mask the other day.”
“Oh, my God! You think that Liam—”
“No, I don’t. I think he did it for the same reason: to frighten you away before anything bad could happen to you.”
Kit stared at him for several seconds before exploding. “You had no right to hide such things from me! Don’t you see? This is my whole point! You have no respect for my intelligence!”
“Because you haven’t shown me a hell of a lot of it!” he shouted in return. “I told you, I’ve no proof—I’ve only suspicions. But you don’t want to listen to reason.”
The car ground to a halt. At first Kit thought he had merely parked on the side of the road so they could continue their argument, but he hadn’t. They had come to the cottage.
He turned off the engine, and she stared at him in silence, then exploded again incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding!”
“No. Passion is a better release for anger than many another I know.”
Kit got out of the car, slammed the door and started walking back along the road. The moon was nearly full now and offered plenty of light for her trek back to the castle.
“Kit!”
He caught her arm, swinging her back to face him, and then two things happened. She knew that she would never walk that trail again; the terror was still too fresh in her mind. And she noticed such a ravaged look of concern and fear in Justin’s eyes that she buried her face against his coat. She needed to be held. The scratchy material seemed inordinately sensual against her flesh, an
d she was acutely aware of his wonderfully clean scent.
Neither of them spoke as Kit led the way to the cottage and up the stairs to the bedroom. Yet it was good. She was held; she was loved. And that made her feel secure. If there hadn’t been, somewhere inside her, the memory of her anger, she might have had the nerve to really talk. To explain that she was simply afraid to let go of everything that was her own in life.
But she couldn’t bring herself to speak, so everything was done in silence: their rough and desperate lovemaking; their lying together in the aftermath; their rising to dress and straighten the room.
Justin didn’t speak until they had pulled up in front of the castle. “I’m asking you to trust my judgment, Kit. Please. I’m not even sure of what I’m saying—I only know that Douglas Johnston would never hurt Michael, and I know that he didn’t kill Susan.”
“I don’t know, Justin,” she said wearily. “I just don’t know.”
“After Saturday, we’ll be away. In Dublin. We’ll have enough distance to be able to see things clearly.”
She shook her head, got out of the car and closed the door. She had a key to the castle, and now she used it without looking back. She walked all the way up the stairs without a word to Justin and checked nervously on Mike. He was fine, sleeping soundly. Molly must have been sleeping somewhere, too.
Kit kissed his forehead, then went into her own room, where she shed her coat and her silky blue dress, put on her nightgown and slipped into bed.
Seconds later, she heard a soft knocking on her door. “Kit?”
“What?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to make sure that you were all right.”
She heard his footsteps moving away down the hall.
* * *
Breakfast was a painfully polite affair. When Douglas arrived Kit ran outside and asked him if she could come along. He must have wondered why, but he cheerfully told her that she was more than welcome to sit in on his class.
When Justin realized that Kit was going, he just as politely determined that he would come along, too, and they both sat silently through the entire school day.
When it was over, Kit realized that Mike still didn’t have a costume, and that All Hallows’ Eve was the next day. One of his friends—Petey—told Kit that they didn’t dress up the same way as American children did; they all wore some type of historical costume.
Justin drove them into Cork, where Mike found a Viking costume that he adored. Kit made the purchase, and then they stopped for fish and chips. Neither Justin nor Kit had much to say. Thankfully, Mike kept the conversation going, never even noticing that his elders answered him, but didn’t have anything to say to one another.
By the time they got home, it was fairly late. Molly had left them a note saying that hot chocolate was warming on the stove. Kit smiled at Mike and told him that she didn’t really care for any, but Justin said he’d have a cup. Kit went up to her own room, wondering at the little tremor that passed through her heart. She should have stayed downstairs. She should have stayed with Mike, not left him alone with Justin. Shouldn’t have left him alone with his father.
He was already so fond of Justin. She couldn’t help it; she felt as if she was losing her son.
Kit tossed and turned, knowing that Mike had a right to know Justin—and that Justin had the same right to know Mike. She shouldn’t envy them their time together. She should be glad of it. And she was. She was so proud of them both—she loved them both so much. If only Justin were a regular man, a broker on Wall Street, a truck driver, anything!
But would she have loved him so much if he hadn’t been exactly who he was? If only she wasn’t such a coward. If only she had a little more faith—not in him, but in herself.
* * *
“Mom! Come on! Justin has to be there on time!”
Kit turned away from the mirror as Mike came bolting into the room. She had to smile. He was so excited—and so cute in his Viking costume.
“I’m coming. Right now, I promise.”
Kit quickly put her lipstick on and dropped the tube into her purse. She glanced at her watch; she was running late. A bit ridiculous, she admitted sheepishly, especially when she’d had all day to get ready. But Justin had reminded her that he meant to drive to Dublin in the morning, and though she had thought about telling him to make the trip alone, she had decided that she needed to get out of the area for a while. So she had spent the day packing, then making a few adjustments to Mike’s costume. And then she’d spent too long in the shower. So now it was nearly eight, and she was still dressing.
“Ready?” Mike demanded.
“Ready,” she promised him. She took his hand and led him out.
At the top of the stairway, she paused. For one giddy moment she was afraid to see Justin. This was dress-up. What if she went downstairs and found him wearing the cloak and mask? She would surely scream and slide into madness.
“Kit! Mike!”
He came into view. He was dressed very much as she was, in comfortable blue jeans and a V-neck sweater. Teal. Almost the color of his eyes.
Kit and Mike walked down the stairs. Justin let Mike walk ahead of them to the door and caught Kit’s hand, pulling her back. “Don’t leave me, Kit. Not for a second. Not tonight.”
She lowered her head, then nodded. It was All Hallows’ Eve...an eerie night—especially here. She had no intention of leaving his side.
Justin drove away from the castle and the cottage, toward the southeast. Kit tried to get her bearings. They were going behind the forest that lay south of the cliffs. Not very far away at all. In fact, they were only a short walk from the cottage.
“The land is cleared there,” Justin told Mike, smiling at him via the rearview mirror.
“So the fire will be safe, right?”
“Right.”
Their dimples were alike, Kit noticed. They both smiled in the same way, with those wonderful dimples, with that hint of mischief in their eyes.
“Was your mother blond?” she suddenly heard herself ask. She felt suddenly shy, but very curious.
Justin glanced her way with a devilish smile. “Nearly platinum,” he assured her.
And then they were there.
Cars were parked all along the rolling hills that led to a vast plateau. There were people everywhere, chatting, laughing. Kit could already hear the pipes, and delicious smells were coming from various food stands. Dancers in emerald-green gowns were performing on a stage at the rear, while a juggler dressed as a clown paused in front of Mike, delighting him with his expertise, then passing on.
Kit felt a little ashamed to think that she had once wondered whether this celebration wasn’t some type of pagan rite involving the whole village. It was wonderful, it was very Irish—and it was normal.
“Come on, we’ve got to get to the bonfire,” Justin told her.
She met the mayor then, standing alongside Liam O’Grady. She found it hard to look at Liam, though, without accusing him of trying to scare her.
A ceremony followed in which the mayor gave a short speech in Gaelic and Justin answered in kind. Then he took the torch and lit the fire, and it seemed as if the hills all across the land lit up like Christmas. Kit cheered along with the rest of them, but by then Mike was pulling at her arm. He wanted to go play the games that had been set up for the children.
“All right, all right, just a second—”
Justin was still talking to the mayor. Kit tried to tell him where she was going, but Mike escaped her grasp and went rushing through the crowd. Kit forgot about Justin and the promise she’d made to him and went chasing after Mike. She reached the first booth, where the children were fishing for toys, but she didn’t see him and instantly began to panic. She turned and crashed straight into Molly.
“Kit! Are you enjoyin’ it, then?”
“Oh, yes, it’s won
derful, but I’ve lost Mike. I have to find him.”
“I just saw the boy, Kit, so don’t ye go frettin’. Have a sip of some of our fine Irish mead, and I’ll take you to him.”
Kit started to say that she didn’t want anything until she found Mike, but Molly had already forced a cup into her hand, so she smiled and drank.
“It’s wonderful,” she said, surprised. It was sweet, with a slightly bitter aftertaste.
“It’s made with honey.”
“Molly, I want to find Mike. Please.”
“This way, Kit McHennessy. This way.”
She followed Molly through the crowd, frowning as she realized they were heading toward the forest that met the cliff top behind the cottage.
“Molly? Are you sure he went this way?”
The branches fell closed behind her, and Kit looked back, only to realize that she couldn’t be seen anymore. And then her knees buckled under her. She fell, reaching out to Molly for support. Mist surrounded her, and the air was growing darker and darker.
She had been a fool. Justin had warned her not to leave his side. She had suspected Old Doug and Young Doug and Barney and Liam and even Justin, but she had never suspected Molly.
And now she couldn’t speak or move. She could barely make out Molly’s tender smile through the mist.
“Ah, lass!” She stroked Kit’s hair. “I’m ever so glad you drank the mead. It had to be tonight, of course. It really had to be All Hallows’ Eve. That’s so very important to the gods.”
Molly’s face melted into the mist as Kit crashed to the ground.
And, not far away, the sounds of laughter and merry-making continued.
Chapter 12
Kit came to in flashes. She vaguely remembered being slid onto some type of woven mesh stretcher. She knew that she had been dragged over rocks and sticks, but she had felt very little pain. But all along she had been dimly aware that she was going to be killed, and that, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t speak a single word.
Somewhere along the road she blacked out again. This time, when she awoke, it was to a sea of mist. She couldn’t tell if it was real, or a hallucination of her fractured mind.
Sinister Intentions & Confiscated Conception Page 18