Call of the Clan

by Patti Wiggington

  "Go on home, Brynne. This is no place for you,” Evan announced.

  "Evan, you need to give up,” I pleaded. “It's over. Michael Kerr's on his way,” I bluffed, hoping not only that Mrs. Much had been able to locate Kerr, but also that the policeman would be able to find us. “You don't have to do this."

  He never removed his eyes from Cayden Spalding. “Brynne, you've got to understand,” he said gently. “At first it was just for Kilgraeme, but then I met you."

  "Me?” I asked, a lump in my throat.

  "Aye,” nodded Evan. He was still waving the iron rod back and forth menacingly. “Once I met you, Kilgraeme wasn't as important anymore."

  Suddenly, rage overtook me. “Don't you put it on me!” I shouted. “Don't you dare turn this around like you did it for me, Evan Muncaster!"

  Evan's gaze moved to me, and in that instant, Cayden Spalding leaped, holding the crest by the edges, a giant iron Frisbee of Death, arcing downward. Evan dodged to the side, and it glanced off his jacket with a whish. Cayden jumped back warily.

  "You trashed my room, too, didn't you?” I asked.

  Evan smiled, not taking his eyes from Cayden. “I thought maybe it would scare you into leaving. You're as stubborn as your father was, you know that?"

  Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I heard a noise....

  "Why did you do it?” Cayden asked politely. I wondered if he had heard the sound too, and was trying to cover it with conversation.

  Evan snorted, and moved slightly forward. “As if you didn't know. Jamie was right, you know, Brynne. There is treasure at Kilgraeme."

  Cayden backed up a bit. “And that's why you tampered with his boat and killed him? To keep him from finding it first?” His voice was deceptively calm. I moved around the brazier, an inch at a time, so Evan wouldn't notice.

  Evan nodded vigorously. “It didn't seem fair, did it? He had never even been to Kilgraeme until five years ago! He spent his whole life traveling around the world on a motorcycle, or sailing, or surfing,” he spat. “He had no right to it!"

  I saw Cayden's steel-gray eyes narrow. “And you think you did? Are you gone soft in the head, man?” he scoffed. “You've no honor, Muncaster. You aren't fit to shovel horse shit at Kilgraeme."

  I didn't look down, but felt my fingers brush something solid. A pair of blacksmith's tongs.

  Evan's lip curled upwards, and I wondered how I could ever have found him attractive, how I could have actually considered hooking up with him. “I do have a right to it!” he yelled, his voice beginning to crack.

  "No, Evan, you don't,” I said sadly. “You never did.” Both of them turned to look at me, as though they had forgotten I was even in the room.

  Cayden looked from me to Evan. “All right,” he said evenly. “Brynne, you know something about this that I don't, aye? What is it?"

  I kept my eyes on Evan Muncaster. “If I were to marry Evan, and have a child, that child would be the Murray some day, and our good barrister here would have access to all of Kilgraeme, being the child's father."

  "But you said you couldn't agree to marryin’ him,” pointed out Cayden.

  I nodded, my hand closing slowly around the tongs. “Right. You moved way too fast, Evan, and I said no. You had to find another way to get your hands on Kilgraeme, I suppose. For example, if I gave up and left Kilgraeme before my twelve months was up, you could try to claim it."

  Evan's eyes burned with anger and humiliation. “You bitch,” he hissed. “You came here out of the blue, trying to claim Kilgraeme for your own! Until the day I sent you that certified letter, you had never even heard of Kilgraeme! You have no more right to it than your father did!"

  I didn't point out to him that he was the one who had found me, not the other way around. “And you have no right to it either,” I said calmly. “It's more mine than it is yours."

  Cayden frowned. “There's more to it, isn't there? Why would he think he has a right?"

  I nodded. I was nearly beside Cayden now. “There's more, and that's why he killed Trish, because she figured it out. Lachlan Murray was banished from Kilgraeme by his father. He went to Northern England, where he impregnated and married Lady Elspeth Cavendish, the daughter of a nobleman named Edmund Cavendish.” I took a deep breath, and looked Evan in the eyes.

  "And Edmund Cavendish,” I said softly, “was the Earl of Muncaster."

  * * * *

  Cayden's jaw dropped, and slowly, his head turned towards Evan. “Is this true? And you thought you had a right to Kilgraeme because of it?"

  Evan smiled. “Lachlan was the eldest brother! That made him the rightful heir. My Da told me all about it, how Lachlan was disinherited because of some family squabble."

  "No!” I shook my head furiously. “It wasn't a squabble, Evan! It was murder!” I could feel my voice rising hysterically. “He killed his own sister and her unborn child! And he shot Catharine's husband, as well, Will Spalding!"

  The noise outside was getting louder, and I wondered how long it would be before the helicopter landed.

  Cayden had a strange look on his face. “Did you say Will Spalding?"

  "Yes,” I said, not taking my eyes away from Evan, who was turning the shade of an eggplant. “The brother of your great-something ancestor, Malcolm Spalding. After Catharine and Will were killed, old Colin banished Lachlan from Kilgraeme and made Dugald his heir. On paper, though, it was Susannah, Dugald's wife, who was the owner of Kilgraeme. A year and a half later, Colin died too, so eventually Dugald and Susannah's son, Archie, became the Murray."

  "And this is what Trish found out?” Cayden growled.

  "Yeah.” I looked at Evan sadly. “And that's why you killed her, because she realized who you were. Lachlan's only living descendant."

  "Do you have any idea what it's like,” he spat at me, “to grow up poor, hearing tales from your parents about the money you are supposed to have? Oh, Evan,” he mimicked in a high falsetto, “your Da's family once had money, but we aren't entitled to any of it! Oh, Evan, if only we had the money that we were robbed of, we could pay your Da's bills!” He waved the iron rod at Cayden again. “There was always a story in the family,” he said shakily, “that we were not only robbed of what was our family's land, but also of a treasure that had been stolen and hidden on the property."

  I stared at him. How could I have been so blind, I wondered. How could I not have realized that something wasn't quite right with him....

  "Evan?"

  "What now, Brynne?” he snorted.

  "You slept with Sandie the night before you killed her,” I said flatly. It was not a question.

  He rolled his eyes. “Believe me, everyone slept with Sandie MacFarlane.” He leered maliciously at Cayden. “She was a whore, just like Melissa."

  Cayden swung the huge crest at him, but Evan darted to the side nimbly. Losing his balance, Cayden stumbled forward. Evan raised the iron rod and swung it like a broadsword.

  "Evan!” I screamed. Distracted, he looked towards me for a split second.

  Hoping against all hope that my Karmic Chain was complete, I raised the tongs and let them fly.

  * * * *

  An eternity later, Michael Kerr poked his head through the door of the broch, and glanced down at an unconscious and bleeding, although very much alive, Evan Muncaster.

  "What's all this about, then?” he asked pleasantly.

  I sat in the corner, hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee that Cayden had thoughtfully provided. I let him do the talking, as I pondered the events of the evening. Evan was loaded into an ambulance, handcuffed to a gurney. Kerr informed me that he would be in touch, but he didn't plan to file assault charges against me for whacking Evan with the tongs. “Self-defense, aye?” he said.

  "Aye,” I nodded as he left.

  Once we were alone, Cayden came and sat beside me as I stared into the dwindling flames of the brazier.

  "Are you well, then?” he asked tentatively.

  "Well enough,” I said
ruefully. All things considered, I thought.

  There was a long silence. “Nice shot with the tongs."

  "Thanks. It's been years since I played softball.” I looked over at him. “He'd have killed us, wouldn't he?"

  Cayden nodded slowly. “I think he would have tried.” He stared down at me. “I wouldn't have let him harm you, Brynne. I'd have protected you to the last breath."

  I thought about how horrible I had been to Cayden over the past few weeks and burst into tears. “I thought it was you,” I groaned. “I am so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?"

  He laughed, and put his arm around my shoulders. “I think so, aye. I didn't exactly give you cause to trust me, though, did I?"

  I sniffled some more. “Well, you were pretty secretive about that so-called errand you had to run the day Trish was killed. What was that about, anyway?"

  "I'd rather not say."

  I could see him blush, even in the dim light of the tower, and I straightened abruptly. “Michael Kerr cleared you, right? I mean, he never arrested you."

  "Aye, well, I had to run into the village for something. Can we leave it be?” he asked.

  "No,” I argued. “What were you doing? I know you didn't kill Trish, so it can't be that bad."

  "It could be, depending on one's point of view,” he admitted.

  "Damn it, Spalding!” I snapped.

  "Aye, well, if you must know.” He flushed even more. “I assumed we were going to ... mmrph. You know what I mean?"

  I raised my brows. “Mmrph? You mean, um, physical intimacy? It certainly seemed as though that's where things were headed."

  "Well, aye."

  "And so you left? Because you thought we were going to mmrph?” I laughed. I wasn't sure if I should be insulted or not.

  "I thought I'd better.... I went to the pharmacy,” he finished lamely.

  I stared at him. “Oh, my God. Are you sick? Do you have some sort of ... disability?” I asked delicately.

  "No!” he exploded. “Protection!"

  My jaw dropped as it dawned on me what he was saying. “You walked all the way to the village to buy condoms?"

  "I didn't have any, and I'd rather assumed you didn't either. Are you insulted?"

  I shook my head. “I think that is just the sweetest damn thing I have ever heard.” I leaned over and kissed him gently. “So."

  "Aye?” he murmured.

  "Well,” I said slyly. “You do still have them, right?"

  His eyes popped open. “Er, aye. They're in the croft."

  "Good,” I grinned.

  He leaned down and kissed me hard, then, his tongue probing and plundering. “I love you, Brynne,” he murmured into my hair. “I've never wanted anyone the way I want you, aye? So much that it's like I'm breaking in half."

  I nodded. I knew exactly what he meant. It wasn't about the sexual chemistry, it wasn't about the lust.

  I knew damn well that I couldn't live without Cayden Spalding. “I love you back,” I whispered, kissing him again. The now-familiar liquid heat coursed down my spine, through my entire body, and as it spread, a thought suddenly struck me.

  "Cayden!” I pulled back from him, staring. “Wait a minute."

  He brushed a stray tangle of red hair from his forehead. “What?” he asked huskily.

  I frowned. “You and your surveying equipment. Cayden, what about old Colin Murray's treasure?"

  Chapter Twenty Four

  It is the first of September. One year since I stepped off a plane in a country I knew nothing about, the country of my ancestors.

  The country of my father's birth.

  In the twelve months I have been here, I have learned a great deal. I have learned that people are not always what they seem to be, and that they are rarely what you expect.

  Kilgraeme itself is different now, too. With a new roof, of slate, not thatch, and a fresh paint job, it looks pretty good, a far cry from the tumbledown pile of crap that it was when I first laid eyes upon it.

  Sometimes, I sit on the rocks overlooking Loch Lomond, and talk to my father. I never met him, but I feel, finally, as if I know him. Because, after all, he was the one who brought me here. If not for him, I would still be in Charleston, living my high-maintenance life. I don't know if that would be a good thing or a bad thing. I only know that it is.

  Emily Much had her baby at the end of July. She has a tangle of blonde curls, looks like neither of her parents, and has been named Catharine Beaton Much. Danny is out of the picture, having moved away to Glasgow, but he does send money each month to care for baby Cathy. I believe Emily will be okay. She and her mother are closer than ever.

  Wallace Wallace has come to live at Kilgraeme. After Danny left, Wallace asked if he could take over the gardens, and of course I said yes. He and Emily have a sweet, although somewhat tentative relationship, and he adores the baby. Wallace and little Cathy make frequent visits to the kitchen together to sneak muffins from Mrs. Much.

  Evan Muncaster is serving time for two counts of murder. He confessed to the killings of Sandie MacFarlane and Trish MacGregor. He remains silent on the subject of Melissa Much and Jamie Murray and could not be convicted of their deaths, due to lack of evidence or witnesses. Cayden and I know the truth, though, and Evan did admit to me in a letter from prison that Melissa Much had not in fact been having an affair with my father.

  The fact that Evan will be in prison for the rest of his days is some comfort to us. I don't intend to write back to him.

  I am standing in the hall, looking at the portraits above me. Dugald, green eyes shining, is looking down at me, strong and loyal with his tartan and sword. I wonder what he was like, and I hope, a little bit, that he and my father might have been quite similar. Men of honor, the pair of them.

  To know the sort of man Lachlan was, on the other hand, I have only to think of Evan.

  Evan, who I believed was my friend.

  Gil and Mark are here. They love Scotland, and everyone at Kilgraeme adores them. Mark has been trading recipes back and forth with Mrs. Much and the pair of them have come up with some sort of Scottish-Asian fusion cuisine.

  My brother caught up with me the other day, as I sat on the rocks by the shore.

  "You're thinking about your dad, aren't you, poodle?"

  "I don't really think of him as my dad. Steve Marlette was my dad, you know? But Jamie was.... He was my father, I guess,” I said slowly.

  We sat companionably for a while, listening to the soft breeze blow across the loch. The trees were beginning to shed their leaves, and autumn was imminent. Gil skipped a stone into the water. “Do you think things would have been different? If you had known him, I mean?"

  I shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe if he had been in my life, you wouldn't have."

  "Good point,” he laughed. “Wouldn't that be a shame?"

  "It would.” I looked over at him. His perfectly moussed hair shone in the afternoon sunlight. “Gil? I think I've ... well, mom. I've come to terms with all that stuff."

  He squeezed my hand. “It's hard to put ghosts behind you, isn't it?"

  "It wasn't for you. You managed."

  Gil shook his head. “I didn't put her behind me. I just refused to let the ghost of an alcoholic, suicidal woman determine the path of her exquisitely perfect son."

  I giggled. I love him so much. “You're leaving soon, aren't you?” I asked.

  He nodded. “We have to get back to the shop. Can't leave it closed forever."

  I felt a lump in my throat. “I'll miss you, bubba."

  Gil pulled me close and held me. “I'll miss you too, honey, and so will Mark. But you know something, sis? For the first time in our lives, I'm not worried about you any more,” he said firmly.

  "Really?"

  "Yeah. I think from now on, you just might be okay."

  "I hope so."

  "Well, if you're not, I'll just fly back here and beat the crap out of Cayden Spalding,” he joked.

  I hooted with laughter. Cayden h
ad about sixty pounds on my brother, to say nothing of a much longer reach. “You'll need Mark to help you,” I giggled.

  "Let's just hope it won't come to that, then, hm?"

  "It won't,” I assured him. “Your manhood is safe."

  He snorted, and I burst into another peal of giggles. Later, as we walked back up to the house, I glanced over at him shyly.

  "Will you come back? In the spring?"

  Gil stopped and looked at me warily.

  "It's just that I'll need you,” I explained. “I mean, you and Mark. You guys are going to give me away when I walk down the aisle, right?"

  It was the first time Gilbert Marlette has ever been completely speechless.

  * * * *

  That night, I eased the door open and wandered into the Museum From Hell. Cayden's back was to me, and I tiptoed towards him, hoping to catch him unawares. As I prepared to pounce, he whirled around, caught me by my wrists, and pulled me to him.

  "Brynne,” he growled. How I love the way it sounds when he says my name. “You're not very good at sneaking up on people, you know."

  "I'm still learning,” I smiled as his lips brushed across my hair. “I haven't had as much practice at it as some people. What are you up to?"

  "Look at this.” He held up a bronze statue, no larger than my hand. “It's a horned god,” he explained. “He's got a torque around his neck like the one over in the other case, aye?"

  I peered at the little figure. “What is that on his feet?"

  "Hooves. He's some sort of nature deity.” He held it up to the light, and examined it critically. “Second century B.C., I would guess, although I could be off by a few years."

  Piece by piece, we had been bringing old Colin Murray's treasure into the house. It all had to be carefully identified and catalogued. I already had offers from several museums wishing to take the collection on the road. I recalled the conversation that had taken place between us months ago, when Cayden first showed it all to me.

  "I never expected it would be all this old stuff,” I had confessed, my fingers stroking the graceful lines of a carved stone goddess. “I mean, when you think of loot, or treasure.... I guess I was thinking it would be gold coins or jewels or something."