Beyond A Highland Whisper

by Maeve Greyson

  “How can I say this without ye taking it the wrong way?” Cordelia circled Nessa’s body, frowning as she gestured up and down Nessa’s tiny frame. “Gabriel has always been attracted to the underdog, shall we say? A woman who’s unaware of her own worth in this world is more tempting to him then a rare vintage wine.”

  A coldness settled over Nessa’s body as she returned Cordelia’s unwanted appraisal. “Look, I know I’m an excellent archeologist. I know I’ve got a sharp mind. But that said, I’m also smart enough to realize that I’m nothing out of the ordinary when it comes to looks.”

  “Ah…but don’t ye see? There’s your beauty in Gabriel’s eyes. Deep inside ye don’t think ye deserve the attention of a man like him. In your mind, ye don’t think of yourself as his equal. Ye might say ye see yourself as a bit of a lesser class.” Cordelia shook her finger in Nessa’s face as she nodded her head with each of her words.

  How dare this woman stand there and psychoanalyze her. Nessa’s growing dislike for Cordelia simmered up at least a couple of notches. “So what are you saying, Cordelia? Are you telling me Gabriel is only attracted to me because he thinks once he’s got me hooked he’ll be able to dominate me, that I’ll do anything to make him mine? Are you telling me he thinks I’m so insecure that I’ll bow to his every whim?” Nessa’s voice shook with humiliation. It infuriated her that Cordelia had voiced what Nessa had suspected all along.

  “Oh, no!” Cordelia pulled a horrified face, shaking her head as she glanced toward the opening of the tent. “What I’m telling ye is that Gabriel is attracted to women such as yourself. It…it…angers, that’s the word, it angers him that society has made it so difficult for a woman to know her true worth. Society needs to learn to see...to see…to see beauty in every shape and form! It’s almost as though building up your self-confidence is his…is his calling, a duty to which he feels honor bound. But if the two of ye do happen to fall in love, you’ll never find a more devoted man.” Cordelia stammered and sputtered her words, wringing her pudgy hands in front of her.

  This conversation had gone past the point of ridiculous. Nessa smelled a rat. Why was Cordelia so nervous? Why did she keep glancing at the tent? The woman was obviously having trouble remembering her speech. If she hadn’t been so irritated, Nessa would’ve laughed. She was positive Cordelia watched to see if she believed the words she spouted. Nessa didn’t trust her. Just looking at the woman ticked her off. Nessa hugged herself as she stood there, tapping her foot. This was just great. She would’ve liked to find a nice relationship but she wasn’t about to become a cowering bitch on a leash. It sounded as though Gabriel Burns was looking for a woman with such low self-esteem she’d never mind walking at least two paces behind him. And there was just something odd about the nervous emotions flashing in Cordelia’s eyes. Something was wrong with Mr. Gabriel Burns and Cordelia had just confirmed it.

  Her heart fell as she realized she was going to cut this relationship off before it ever got started. Her past experiences with men had always ended in disappointment and it appeared this one wasn’t going to be any different. Great. This day just kept getting better. A perfect finale for last night’s fiasco.

  “Well, I think it’s a little early for discussions about devotion,” Nessa snapped as they walked through the door. Nessa motioned Cordelia inside with a snap of the canvas flap and looked toward the corner where Gabriel sat with his foot propped in a chair.

  “Devotion? What has this wee minx been telling ye about devotion?” Gabriel eased his foot down out of the seat. His lips curled into a predatory smile as he edged his way up onto his crutches.

  Planting both hands on her ample hips, Cordelia adopted her fiercest stance. “Nothing about devotion, ye great hulking beast. Just a good deal about stubbornness and how strongly ye embrace that trait. Now on your way and into the car with ye or I’ll be bringing Mother over to box your ears.” She urged Gabriel toward the door, casting an apologetic smile at Nessa as she passed.

  Gabriel paused in front of Nessa on his way out. “I’m determined, lass, to hear a yes. So ye promise? As soon as I’m released from this tyrant, we’ll retry our first date?” Gabriel leaned closer. He fixed her with his most beguiling smile and waited.

  Nessa forced the irritation out of her voice and phrased her careful reply. “I promise I will think about it, Gabriel. Now listen to Cordelia and try to get some rest.” She took a slight step back. Nessa’s heart sank with renewed disappointment. Even with the odd misgivings she’d felt around Gabriel, she’d hoped there was a little bit of excitement to be found. Now even the thrill of a new chase was gone. As it turned out, she’d only been wasting her time.

  A puzzled look shadowed his face. Gabriel didn’t miss Nessa’s step away. He tilted his head and studied her face. His eyes narrowed as he leaned in closer and balanced himself with his crutches and one uninjured leg. “I’ll ring ye tomorrow then?”

  Nessa slid another step back, shrugging one shoulder as she crossed her arms over her chest. “With the new find, I’ll probably be out of pocket all week. But you can always leave a message.”

  Gabriel’s smile disappeared at Nessa’s silent dismissal. “Very well then.” With a curt nod of his head, he turned and left without another word.

  Leaning across her desk, Trish’s face reddened as she held her tongue while Gabriel and Cordelia made their way to the car. She bit her lip until she saw they were well out of earshot and then she exploded. “Okay, Nessa. Out with it! Would you mind telling me just what the hell that little dance was all about?”

  Nessa dropped into the chair behind the desk and pillowed her head in her arms. In a muffled voice filled with despair, she barely peeped above her arms as she replied, “What little dance?”

  Trish rose to circle Nessa with her hands on her hips and wiggled her butt to a little jig. “You know what I’m talking about. Your obvious pink slip to Gabriel and the body language that’s clearly hanging out the sign that says this chick’s not for sale.”

  Trish perched on the corner of Nessa’s desk and patted her friend’s dark curly head. “I thought you said you liked him. You said last night that if not for the wreck, the evening had started out kind of okay.”

  Nessa propped her head and pinched the bridge of her nose, squinting her burning eyes for relief. “Things change, okay? Maybe I don’t know what I like anymore. All I know is that I’m tired.”

  Trish pursed her lips and bent her head, scowling at Nessa with determination. “What you need is some fresh air and a change of scenery. The MacKays just called and invited us over for tea. Come on. Get your jacket.” Trish swatted Nessa’s shoulder with a handful of papers and hopped off the corner of her desk.

  Nessa shook her head. She slumped back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. “I am not going. I do not like tea. I’m tired. Nightmares kept me up all night. Besides, the students have made a significant find that requires my presence here.”

  Trish tapped one foot and motioned toward the outer flap of the tent. “You have to go. I already told them we’d be happy to come. Besides, Fiona says Brodie has several brothers that she’d be more than happy to introduce us to. Come on. Some new faces will make you feel better.”

  “I said I’m not going,” Nessa snapped. What little control she had left crumbled away as she stood up from her chair. “I am sick and tired of your hormones dragging me around from one disappointment to the next. From now on, Trish leave me out of your sexual scavenger hunts. If I want companionship, I will get myself a dog. Heaven knows they’re the only creatures on earth capable of unconditional love.”

  Trish stared at Nessa in open-mouthed amazement and rested a concerned hand on her shoulder. “Nessa… What is going on with you? What is wrong?”

  Nessa scrubbed her face with her balled up fists and struggled to keep from bursting into tears. Her voice quivered as she fought for control and rummaged around the tent for her coat. “Nothing! Okay? I’m just tired. Just leave me alone f
or a while. I just need some fresh air. I’m just going for a walk. Don’t look for me later because I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

  Nessa shoved her arms into her jacket and jerked the collar up around her neck. As she stomped out the door, she shielded her weary eyes from the blinding rays of the sun. Where the hell had she put her hat? As far as she was concerned, from this day forward, work was all that mattered. One way or another, Trish would just have to learn to accept it. When it came to priorities, men just hit the rock bottom of her list.

  Trish. She shouldn’t have bitten off her head like that. A twinge of guilt banged against her exhausted mind. Nessa ducked her face even lower into her collar. Trish was her best friend, confidant, and the sister she’d never had.

  If she’d taken the time to tell Trish about her horrifying dream, Trish would’ve understood. She might not have believed it. She might think Nessa had slid over the edge but she never would’ve judged her. She would’ve just nodded her head, offered her shoulder for Nessa’s tears, then suggested they go out and do something crazy to push it out of Nessa’s mind.

  Nessa bent to pick up a rough-edged stone and turned it over in her hand. With a cynical laugh, she rubbed her thumb across its cold, rough surface. The archeologist in her wondered what secrets it could tell.

  She’d come so far. She’d reached her goal. And she’d always credited her drive to the man in her dreams. Now that same man had shattered his comforting lover’s image. Now what was she supposed to do?

  Chapter Thirteen

  “When will they be here?” Latharn bellowed from the sphere. He hated it when Brodie and Fiona went into the other room and left him on the shelf.

  Fiona stuck her head through the door and motioned toward the clock centered on the mantel. “I told ye they should be here within the hour. Ye asked me that same question just fifteen minutes ago. Please, Cousin Latharn. I canna get the tea and cakes ready if I keep having to come in here every five minutes and tell ye what time the girls are supposed to arrive.”

  “If I asked ye the question fifteen minutes ago, then ye are not coming in here every five minutes to talk to me,” Latharn shouted at the swinging door. It was too late. Fiona had left and gone back into the kitchen. If they would set the damned globe in the sitting room, then they wouldn’t have to worry about it.

  Latharn fumed as he paced the circumference of his prison. He’d been practicing more of late. Perhaps he could move the globe there himself. First, he visualized the globe sitting on the counter of the shop. He opened his eyes. With a proud smile, Latharn scanned his new surroundings. He had done it. Emrys had told him concentration and practice was the key. He rubbed his hands together and flexed his shoulders. He visualized the dark mahogany table he knew Fiona had centered in front of the window of the sitting room. It had belonged to her mother. It was her pride and joy. Opening his eyes, Latharn chuckled as he now enjoyed the view out of the parlor window. There stood Trish just getting out of her vehicle. But where was Nessa?

  “Brodie! Fiona!” Latharn bellowed from his new vantage point in the center of the sitting room.

  “How did ye get in here?” Brodie twisted his head from the doorway of the shop to the mahogany table in the center of the room.

  “That is not important right now,” Latharn hissed as he reflected the aura from the sphere off the walls. “Nessa is not with Trish. Something is wrong. Find out what it is.”

  Brodie turned to follow Latharn’s command as Fiona walked in from the kitchen and pointed at the sphere and back at the room. He shook his head at her and waved her back toward the kitchen as a knock sounded at the door.

  “That’s her. Be sure and stand so I can see everything.” Latharn wished he could speak to Trish. He knew he had upset Nessa the other night in her dreams. He’d lost control of his damnedable temper, his uncontrollable rage…he couldn’t help it. The thought of Gabriel Burns touching his Nessa made his blood boil.

  Brodie opened the door to Trish’s smiling face. “Trish, we’re glad ye could make it. Won’t ye come inside?” As he stepped aside and ushered her in, he added, “Where’s Nessa? We thought she was coming too.”

  A suspicious look flickered across Trish’s face as she stepped into the room. “Nessa had a really rough night last night. She sends her thanks and promises to make it some other time.”

  Latharn watched Trish’s body language. This lass was a cagey one. Trish protected Nessa as she’d so often done before. Latharn chuckled as he stroked his chin. He could tell by the look on Trish’s face, she’d already sized up Brodie and Fiona. He read her as easily as a book. This afternoon’s tea could prove to be quite entertaining. Brodie and Fiona could end up having their hands full. Latharn leaned against the glass and prepared to enjoy the show.

  Fiona led Trish to a comfortable chair right beside the mahogany table. An innocent look plastered across her face, Fiona’s hand fluttered to her chest. “A rough night? Is she okay? I thought last night was her private dinner with Gabriel Burns.”

  Careful, Fiona. Dinna overplay your hand. This one is not a fool. Latharn shifted closer for a better view as he waited for Trish’s reaction.

  Trish settled into the cushions and smiled. She hesitated before she answered. “Dinner didn’t go quite as planned. There was an accident and they had to cut the date short.”

  “An accident?” Brodie shared a fierce look with his wife as he set the platter of sliced cakes upon the table in front of the chairs.

  Latharn rubbed his jaw and grinned. Aye. An accident, all right. Unfortunately, the bastard had survived it. Latharn had been gentle and sent just the barest puff of wind. This should be good. Trish toyed with Brodie and Fiona. She waited for them to drag the information from her. The minx. She must’ve been a cat in a previous life, toying with her prey before the kill. What else would she tell them?

  Trish stirred her tea as she perched on the edge of her chair, then leaned forward and selected a cake. “Nessa said Gabriel lost control of the car when it was side-swiped by a blast of wind. They ran off the road and then Gabriel was blown into the ditch while trying to help Nessa out of the car.” She sipped her tea. Her eyes narrowed into speculative slits as she watched the couple’s reaction over the rim of her cup.

  “A blast of wind, ye say? How frightening that must have been for them. Was either of them hurt?” Brodie’s hands curled into fists and he moved to the edge of his seat.

  Trish shrugged a shoulder and swirled the amber liquid in her cup with the delicate silver spoon. “Nessa’s fine. Gabriel didn’t fare as well. He ended up with a wrenched knee and three broken ribs.” Trish set her cup of tea on the table, then folded her hands in her lap as she relaxed back in her chair. “Of course, Nessa had to jog all the way back to the inn for help and then mentioned something about having nightmares the rest of the night.”

  Fiona and Brodie fidgeted in their seats, stealing glances at Latharn’s sphere. Fiona cleared her throat as she rose to refill Trish’s cup, her hand trembling as she clenched the handle of the delicate teapot.

  “We’re verra sorry to hear Gabriel was hurt. These narrow country lanes can be quite treacherous at times. He’s lucky Nessa was able to go for help since we just learned the local ambulance is back in the shop.”

  Trish set her cup on the table and folded her hands in her lap. “Why don’t you two make it easier for all of us and just tell me what’s going on?”

  Tightening her lips into an irritated line, Fiona spun on her heel to face her squirming husband. “Ye see, Brodie? I told ye this was a bad idea. Neither one of us has ever been any good at playing these games.”

  Brodie groaned, set his untouched tea upon the table, and rested his head in his hands. “This isna going verra well at all. It just proves I shouldha’ never been chosen.”

  “Never been chosen for what?” Trish leaned forward, glancing back and forth between each of the MacKays.

  Fiona rose to pace about the room. She wrung her pale hands in
front of her aproned waist as she fretted. “Trish, are ye an archeologist as well? Do ye know anything about the history of this area? Are ye familiar with any of the legends surrounding the clans?”

  Trish frowned as she sat back in her chair and folded her hands across one knee. “I don’t have my doctorate but I do have my master’s degree in ancient history. Nessa hired me as her assistant when we met on campus years ago. I know it usually comes as a shock to everyone but I’m not just a pair of boobs with legs. If I do say so myself, I’ve got a pretty sharp set of brains rattling around inside this gorgeous red head. What has the history of this area and the legends of the clans have to do with Nessa and Gabriel’s accident?”

  Latharn chuckled as he relaxed against the wall. His brothers would’ve loved Trish.

  With a curt shake of his head at his wife, Brodie took over the conversation. “I am sworn to secrecy regarding the duty with which I’ve been charged. I can only advise ye that it would be in the best interest for the safety of all concerned if ye looked up the history of clan MacKay.”

  “The best interest for the safety of all concerned,” Trish repeated, a look of confusion wrinkling her brow. “What in the hell are you talking about? Is it some curse about the dig? This isn’t some newly found mummy’s tomb we’re defiling. This site has been under research for years and there have been no cases of anyone ever dying of any strange curses surrounding the digs.”

  Brodie ground his teeth as he yanked his hands through his hair. “It has nothing to do with the Durness research sites or any of the burial cairns. The legends of clan MacKay will answer a lot of Nessa’s questions. Not only about last night, but about herself as well.”

  “Why can’t you tell me?” Trish rose from her seat and crossed the room, to poke her finger in the center of Brodie’s chest. “If you’re insinuating that Nessa’s in some sort of danger, you’d best be letting me know!”