by Nora Roberts
“A game, ye say?”
Estelle nodded. “That is, if you’re willing to allow some others to see you.”
“Others?” He backed up, looking alarmed.
“It’s only Desmond and Alfred and Fergus.”
“They’re not of the Cameron clan. I canna do it.”
“I’m not a Cameron either, Jamie. But you let me see you.”
“That’s different. Ye remind me of my mother.”
“And what about the strangers who’ve seen you over the centuries? Not all of them were Camerons.”
“Aye. I did it to frighten them. Because I was tired of bein’ alone.” He paused, considering. “What’s this game we’re to play?”
“Come here, Jamie.”
She took a seat at the worktable, and the lad climbed up on her lap.
“From what you’ve told me, I have some doubts about what really happened that day of the siege. I believe you may have managed to hold on to the Star of Scotland after you were wounded.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Because you’re still here. And you’re a clever, feisty lad. What if, before you…gave in to the seriousness of your wound, you had the presence of mind to hide it?”
“I dunna know. I canna remember. Is that what ye want, Estelle? Do ye wish to search for the Star?”
She nodded.
“But why? I’ve had hundreds of years to try and I’ve never found it. What makes ye think we’ll succeed tonight, when we’ve never done so before?”
“I don’t know, Jamie.” She tousled his hair and pressed a kiss to his temple. “Maybe because there’s so much at stake. If we don’t find the Star of Scotland tonight, Castle Clough will pass from your clan’s hands into the hands of your enemy tomorrow. I thought that, with your help, I’d have Desmond and Alfred and Fergus work with us to rip apart some of the walls around the area where you sleep. Are you willing to try?”
He looked up into her eyes, then glanced at the man in the doorway. In a voice meant for her ears alone, he whispered, “Ye love him, don’t ye, Estelle?”
She nodded. “With all my heart.”
He pushed free of her embrace and slid to the floor, then took several steps across the room.
She sighed, wondering why she’d ever thought he would agree to her plan. But as she stood up, preparing to leave, he turned toward her.
“All right,” he said softly. “Call in the others. But they’d better not laugh at me.”
9
“THIS WAS WHERE I woke up after the siege.” Jamie knocked on the wall, and the others could hear the hollow sound, revealing a hole behind it.
True to her word, Estelle had cautioned the others not to react with fear or humor when they first caught sight of Jamie. Desmond had maintained his usual stony expression, showing absolutely no emotion. Alfred’s scowl had deepened as he’d studied the lad’s strange clothes and heard his ancient manner of speech. But Fergus had surprised them all by his smiling acceptance of this stranger. It was as though he knew instinctively that Jamie was a friend. He knelt and offered his hand. And with a matching smile, Jamie accepted the handshake.
Sir Charles joined in by calling encouragement from the doorway, where his wheelchair had been parked out of the way. With crowbars and handsaws and assorted other tools, they began an assault on the walls, tearing the lovely mahogany away, to reveal ancient stone and brick.
At first they were infused with excitement as they peeled away the wood. The keen edge of anticipation kept the adrenaline pumping as they pulled aside every loose stone and brick and piece of mortar, searching every crack and crevice that might serve as a hiding place for the jewel.
Shortly after midnight Rob noticed that his uncle had fallen asleep in his wheelchair.
“Fergus,” he called softly.
The lad looked up.
“Take my uncle upstairs and see him safely to his bed.”
The young giant set aside his tools and hurried to do the lord’s bidding.
Half an hour later Rob touched a hand to Desmond’s shoulder. “Desmond, you and your brother have done all you can. Go to bed now.”
“An hour more, your lordship.”
“No.” Rob shook his head. “Fergus and I will search a while yet. But the hour is late. You need your rest.”
Reluctantly the two old men turned away and went off to their beds.
Fergus, who had returned, surveyed the damage, then picked up a crowbar and attacked the last section of wall. Several hours later he slumped down in a corner of the room, his head nodding. Rob covered him with a blanket and left him sleeping, then walked over to Estelle and Jamie, who were digging in the rubble.
“It’s no use,” he muttered.
Estelle continued working.
He felt a sense of sadness tinged with respect when he looked at her. Her clothes, her hair, were covered with dust. Her nails were torn and ragged.
With an oath he hauled her to her feet. “It’s over, Estelle. It was a lovely dream, but it isn’t meant to be. Now it’s time to admit defeat.”
“I won’t. I can’t. You can’t either, Rob. You can’t let everything you love fall into Griffin Mackenzie’s hands.”
He touched a hand to her hair. “Not everything I love will be his.”
For the space of a heartbeat she didn’t understand. Then, as the knowledge of what he’d said penetrated, she started to weep.
He pulled her into his arms and pressed his face to her hair. “I do love this place. And all the things in it. But they’re not nearly as important as you’ve become to me, Estelle. Don’t you see? Griff will have only things. But I’ll have the memory of what we shared here.” He lifted her chin and brushed a kiss over her lips. “And in the end Griff will have nothing. And I’ll have everything.”
As Jamie watched, he was overcome with bittersweet memories. Of a father and mother who had loved each other just this way. Who had bravely faced the inevitable with the same courage, the same stoic determination.
“Is that it, then?” he whispered.
“Aye.” Rob looked at Estelle.
They both turned to Jamie and held out their arms, and the lad allowed himself to be drawn into their embrace. For just a moment, as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut, he was almost able to imagine he was being held by his own father and mother.
But then he opened his eyes and knew he was still here. Trapped between heaven and earth.
“Don’t look so sad, Jamie.” Estelle kissed his tearstained cheeks. “If you wish, we’ll keep on searching.”
Rob shook his head. “You’re exhausted. We all are. Go up and shower, and try to get some sleep.”
“What about you?” She studied the weary look in his eyes, the dark stubble of beard, the slump of his shoulders. Though he had tried to keep her spirits up, his own were battered.
“I’ve told the bankers to be here at nine. The mayor of Dunfield, as well as the council and police chief, were included, since it will affect all of them. We’ll formally sign the documents and turn over everything to Griff.”
At the very mention of that, Estelle saw Jamie shimmer, then disappear. With a sigh of defeat she linked her fingers through Rob’s and together they walked out of the room.
Estelle passed a hand over her eyes in a gesture of weariness as she climbed the stairs to her room. What a fool she’d been. She’d honestly believed that somewhere in that old playroom they would find the mythical Star of Scotland. She’d hoped that peeling away the wood and revealing the original walls might at least trigger some glimmer of memory in Jamie’s subconscious.
What had happened during that terrible siege? Had Jamie panicked as he believed? Not that it was anything to be ashamed of. He was only a lad. And he’d loved his mother and father and little brother so deeply. It must have been a nightmarish ordeal for him. Still, the fact that he was still here seemed somehow connected to his actions on that fateful day.
She passed the portrait of his pa
rents and paused. She could see why he was reminded of his mother whenever he looked at her. Like the woman in the portrait, she had the same auburn hair, the same green eyes.
She studied the lovely, flowing gown with long, tapered sleeves and a high circlet of lace at the throat. There had been dozens of such gowns in the trunks stored in the tower room.
Suddenly she had a flash of insight. Could it possibly work? She shook her head. It might prove to be just another dead end. But it was worth a try.
Her exhaustion dissolved as she raced along the hallway, taking the steps to the tower two at a time.
Estelle studied herself in the mirror, fussing with her hair until she was satisfied that it closely resembled the hair of the woman in the portrait. Then she stepped back to view the gown. The fabric was so fragile the seams were coming apart. But the neckline was the same, with a high, tight circlet of lace at the throat and long tapered sleeves edged with matching lace at the cuffs. The fact that the skirt was so long she was tripping over it didn’t matter.
She caught the skirt in her hands and descended the stairs.
When she entered the playroom, she was surprised to see that Fergus had already swept up the debris. It lay in several piles of wood and sawdust and broken bricks and mortar, to be carted away later.
A second pile of dust-covered toys lay nearby. The wooden rocking horse. The child’s sword.
By now, she surmised, Fergus would be upstairs, helping Sir Charles to dress and prepare for the dreadful day ahead. And Rob. Rob would be facing his bleak future the same way he faced everything. With courage and dignity.
“Jamie.” She walked to the middle of the room and slowly circled. “Jamie. Please come out. I need you.”
Out of the corner of her eye she saw a movement and turned to see the little boy, his hand over his mouth, yawning loudly. He blinked, then, seeing her, opened his eyes wide.
“Mother. Ye’ve come for me.”
“Aye.” She swallowed, fighting a wave of guilt. It was a sign of her desperation that though what she was doing might save Rob, it would be seen as nothing but a cruel hoax by this tenderhearted lad.
“I knew ye’d come one day. Are we goin’ home now?”
“Not yet, Jamie lad.” She clutched her hands together tightly, so afraid her voice would break and give her away. “First you must prove yourself worthy.”
“I will, Mother. I’ll do anything. Just tell me what I must do.”
“You must bring me the Star of Scotland, my son.”
“But I dunna know where it is.”
“Close your eyes, Jamie. Then search your mind. Think back. I know you’ll remember.”
Just as he did, a voice from the doorway startled her.
“What’s this?” Griff stared around with a look of puzzlement. Then, as he saw the devastation to the room, the realization dawned. “You knew.”
“Knew what?” Estelle stared at him blankly.
“I thought I was the only one who had the complete history of Castle Clough. Patience swore to me that she hadn’t told a soul about her discovery.”
“Discovery?”
“Don’t act so innocent, Professor. Obviously you uncovered the same facts that my late wife did.”
“Yes. Of course. The facts.” Though she hadn’t a clue, she struggled to keep her features composed.
“Patience believed, from her research, that since the Star of Scotland has never surfaced, it has to be still hidden somewhere in this room. It was the last place the ghost had been.”
“Ghost? Are you saying there’s a ghost in Castle Clough?”
He seemed to notice her odd costume for the first time. In quick strides he crossed the room and caught her by the arm. “What game are you playing now, Professor?”
She tried to pull away. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You know entirely too much. I was certain of it when I first met you. And I knew, even then, that I should have had you…eliminated, before you went any further.”
“Let go of me, Mr. Mackenzie.”
“Not this time, Professor. You’ve found the Star of Scotland, haven’t you?” He plucked a small, thin object from his pocket. When he touched a finger to a button, it opened to reveal a razor-sharp blade. “If you value your life, you’ll give it to me. Now.” He pressed the blade to her throat.
“Is this what you did to your wife?”
He laughed, a high-pitched sound that scraped her nerves. “It wouldn’t do to have the wife of the very successful Griffin Mackenzie found with her throat slit. I merely broke her lovely neck, then pushed her down a flight of stairs. It was neat and quick and final.”
The ease with which he described such a gruesome event made her shudder. “And how will you explain this?”
“Easy enough. A thief. One who saw the signs of digging for treasure and decided to help himself. The authorities will be convinced when they see these piles of rubble. You surprised him, and he was forced to kill you before fleeing.” He pressed the blade until he drew a thin line of blood. “Now give me the Star of Scotland, Professor. Or do you think it’s worth dying for?”
“Nay.” Jamie appeared in a shimmer of heat. “Dinna harm my mother.”
“What this?” Griff shook his head and tightened his grasp on Estelle. “What sort of trick are you playing?”
“It’s no trick!” the boy cried. “Unhand my mother, and I’ll give ye what ye seek.”
Griff’s eyes narrowed in anger. “I don’t know who or what you are, but I’m not stupid enough to do what you ask. First you’ll produce the Star of Scotland. Then I’ll let go of the woman.”
“All right, then.” With tears nearly blinding him, Jamie raced across the room and picked up the child’s sword from a pile of rubble.
“You think you’ll fight me with that toy?” Griff threw back his head and laughed.
“Nay.” Jamie grasped the sword by the blade and pointed to the jeweled hilt. There, in the center, was a star-shaped diamond the size of a walnut.
Griff’s eyes widened as the truth dawned. Through all the centuries, everyone had looked for the treasure in some secret place. But all this time it had been in plain view, and never once had anyone recognized it for what it was.
“Oh, Jamie!” Estelle could hardly believe her eyes. “You finally remembered.”
“Aye, Mother. All these years it had been wiped from my mind, but seeing you again gave me back my memory.” He dug his chubby fingers into the hilt until the jewel slipped free and dropped into his palm. Then he walked toward Griff, with his hand outstretched. “Here’s what you want. Now release my mother.”
“Gladly.” Griff shoved her roughly aside and reached for the jewel. As he did, Jamie reached up with his other hand, thrusting a dagger into Griff’s stomach.
For a moment the man was too stunned to react. Then, enraged and in pain, he brought his hand out in a wide arc, intent upon slashing Estelle.
“Nay!” With a cry Jamie pushed her aside, taking the blow meant for her.
The force of it sent him staggering backward, the knife buried deep in his small chest.
“Oh, no! Jamie, no!” Estelle dropped to the floor, cradling the boy’s head in her lap.
“Now I’ll just take what’s mine,” Griff muttered as he started toward them.
“The only thing that’s yours is a future in prison, Griff.” The sound of Rob’s voice stopped his old enemy in his tracks.
When he looked up, Griff saw Rob standing in the doorway, holding his ancestor’s jeweled sword.
“Do you think you’re man enough to use that?” Griff challenged.
Rob’s voice was pure ice as he stepped closer, lifting the sword as he did. “There’s only one way to find out.”
Griff glanced beyond him to the doorway and realized that they weren’t alone. Crowding in behind Sir Charles and Fergus were Desmond and Alfred, half a dozen bankers, and the mayor and police chief of the nearby village of Dunfield.
K
nowing he was defeated, Griff lifted his hands in surrender.
At once the police chief strode forward and secured his hands with handcuffs.
“It was self-defense.” Griff’s voice rang with authority. “I’ll never be convicted. It’s obvious this woman is crazy. You can tell by her ridiculous costume. She attacked me when I walked in.”
“Jamie is dying!” she cried, “and this is the man who inflicted the fatal wound.” But she knew by the puzzled looks on the faces of the strangers in the doorway that they couldn’t see the lad.
Griff shot her a look of triumph. “You see? She’s absolutely mad.”
“Rob.” She turned to him in desperation. “Griffin Mackenzie confessed to killing your sister.”
With a cry of rage Rob grabbed the front of Griff’s shirt and aimed his sword at his heart.
“Please, your lordship,” the chief said sternly. “Let the authorities handle this.”
“Aye.” With a long, slow hiss of anger Rob leaned close to whisper, “I wish you had given me the satisfaction of avenging my sister’s death. But at least I know you’ll pay, Griff. For the rest of your miserable life.”
He tossed the sword aside and knelt beside Estelle, watching helplessly as she stroked the lad’s cheek.
“Hold on, Jamie,” she whispered through her tears. “You were so brave.”
She looked up at Rob. “This is all my fault. I tricked him into believing I was his mother so that it would jog his memory about the jewel. But I never intended this. He took the blow meant for me.”
Rob wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Against her temple he murmured, “Don’t you see? It’s what he wanted to do that first time, and couldn’t. Now he’s had his chance to get it right.”
Her eyes widened as she realized the truth of it. And then, as they both watched, Jamie’s eyes opened, and he smiled. “This is for you, Lord Cameron. And for all the Camerons through the centuries. Guard it well.” He handed him the Star of Scotland. Then he looked over, and his smile grew radiant. “There you are, Mother. I’ve been waiting so long.”
At first Estelle struggled with guilt, thinking she had once again deceived the poor lad. Then she realized that he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking just beyond her. She turned to see a shimmer of light. And then, still smiling, Jamie began to glow, brighter and brighter, until the light was so brilliant that she and Rob had to shield their eyes.