by Cara Summers
Frowning, he looked in the direction of the stone arch. There was one way to find out exactly what she wanted. Cam had claimed she’d written her desires down in explicit detail. As Reid pushed his way through the hedge and headed toward the arch, he wondered if reading her fantasies had been his goal from the moment he’d stepped out of the castle this morning.
* * *
NELL WOKE UP as she always did with her sensory perceptions just a few seconds ahead of her mind and her feelings. Her view of the ceiling told her that she was at the castle. But not in her own bed.
Because she’d finally seduced Reid.
The memory rushed in along with delight and triumph. And joy. She wanted to savor what had happened, celebrate it and relive each detail, but a jingling bell had her sitting straight up in bed. Alba rose from her prone position in front of the door and padded to her side.
That’s when it sank in. “Reid’s gone.” The tightening around Nell’s heart had her pressing the heel of her hand against her chest. She noted the indentation in the pillow, but when she explored it with her hand, it was cold.
“He left you here to do the bodyguard work,” she said to Alba.
Why did that hurt so much? Disappointment she could understand. If Reid had been here, she would have seduced him again. Happily.
But what she was feeling cut deeper. She wanted him here. Needed him here.
“Loss,” she murmured as she patted the bed so that the dog would join her. Alba jumped up, circled once and settled next to Nell’s thigh.
“I suppose that, since you came from a shelter, you’ve experienced your share of rejection,” Nell said. “But I’ve been lucky.” She scratched Alba behind the ears. “There was that cad I thought I was in love with in college. He told me that he loved me, and I believed him. Everyone has always loved me, so I was sucker enough to believe him. Once I went to bed with him, I found out that I was just one more notch on his belt. Classic story.”
Alba plopped her head on Nell’s lap.
She frowned. “It’s absolutely unreasonable that this hurts more.” It wasn’t as though he’d left her. He took his job as bodyguard too seriously. The dog was proof of that.
To confirm her suspicion, she grabbed the sheet, wrapping it around herself as she hurried to the sliding glass doors. Even as she slid them open, she spotted Reid sitting with Daryl at the far end of the kitchen terrace. “See,” she murmured to the dog who’d joined her. “From where he’s sitting, he can keep an eye on all the balconies on this side of the castle. The perfect Secret Service vantage point.”
Was that all she was to him? A job? When she caught herself rubbing her chest again, she jerked her hand away and frowned down at it. “There’s no reason to feel bad because he left me with you.” She hadn’t lost Reid.
Yet.
The band around her heart tightened even more— because she would lose him. Hadn’t she explained it very clearly to him? Once they found Eleanor’s necklace and everyone was safe, she and Reid would go their separate ways. Seduction had been the plan, not a lifelong commitment. If she wanted that, all she would have had to do was follow her aunt’s advice and kiss him beneath the stones.
Panic replaced the tight feeling around her heart as she remembered doing just that.
In a dream, she reminded herself. It had all been a strange dream that had started out with Eleanor dancing with another man and ended when Eleanor had kissed Angus beneath the stones.
And then you kissed Reid.
She couldn’t deny that. Nor could she deny what had happened right after that, when the dream had drifted, and she had lost herself in the reality of Reid. Their lovemaking had erased everything else from her mind. Even now, she was thinking of Reid instead of finding the necklace. That had to stop.
As if he could sense her presence, Reid chose that moment to shift his gaze to the balcony of his room. When his gaze locked on hers, she felt her heart take a long tumble.
“Oh, my God,” she whispered.
Alba rubbed her head against Nell’s leg while she concentrated on drawing in a deep breath. When Reid turned his attention back to Daryl, she glanced at the dog. “It was only a dream. I didn’t actually kiss him beneath the stones.”
But in your heart you did. And in your heart...
Nell sank to her knees beside the dog. “I’ve fallen in love with him.”
For a second, as the whispered words hung in the air, she felt her heart tumble again.
Maybe she’d never fallen out of love with him.
Following fast on that realization came a second. Another day or two at the most—that’s all you’ll have.
Pain sliced deeper this time. Alba licked her cheek. A few days. Beyond that, it was all blank pages.
Pages that you could write a different story on.
This time when she pressed a hand to her heart, it wasn’t because of pain. It was because she was sure it had skipped a beat.
First things first.
She had to find that necklace. Rising, she shifted her gaze to the spot in the garden where the old gazebo had stood. Last night Daryl had made a salient point. If Eleanor had intended the portrait to be a treasure map to the location of the sapphires, she’d left the cave out. But there had to be some reason why Eleanor had chosen that spot to sit for her portrait. So it was still going to be the starting point of her search this morning.
Alba rubbed against her leg and whined. Glancing down, Nell saw that the dog had risen to her feet and had her eyes riveted on the terrace. Shifting her own gaze she watched Reid and Daryl rise from their chairs. A second later they were joined by her aunt Vi and a young man. A stranger.
“Good girl,” she murmured as she patted the dog’s head. “But you don’t have to worry. He has to be the writer from the Times.” As the young man sat down and crossed his legs, Nell felt a little flicker at the back of her mind. She’d experienced the same thing last night when she was looking at the time line Daryl had drawn. Narrowing her eyes, she studied the man more closely. He was several inches shorter than either Daryl or Reid and built along more slender lines. Nell agreed with Nurse Braxton—his face was indeed pretty, and the glasses added a geeky sexiness.
He was here to interview and shadow Vi, so then he could write a follow-up story on the discovery of Eleanor’s earrings. And Nell was here to find the necklace and write The End on that story, she reminded herself. Her glance strayed back to Reid. The fastest route to filling in the blank pages on her subplot was to finish writing her main plot.
“The clock is ticking,” she murmured to Alba. As she turned, her gaze ran over the writer from the Times again, and she remembered what it was that had been tugging at her mind. “The beginning,” she said to the dog. “Every story has a trigger. I have to get dressed so I can talk to Reid.” Then she dashed for the connecting door to her room.
* * *
REID KNEW THE instant that Nell disappeared from the window of his balcony. Not only had she vanished from his peripheral vision but he’d felt an immediate chill in the temperature of his skin when her gaze had left it.
Though Reid hadn’t thought it possible, reading the fantasies she’d written on those pink sheets of paper had increased his desire for her. When he’d first caught sight of her on the balcony, he’d had to hold tight to the arms of his chair to keep himself from going to her.
Earlier when he had told Daryl his plans to take Nell to the gazebo, the older man had asked him to hang around long enough to get a personal impression of James Orbison. While Daryl had filled him in on the data the CIA had gathered on the young man, Vi had packed a canvas tote bag with a thermos of coffee and some of her scones so that he and Nell could head out to the gardens as soon as she woke up.
Ten minutes. That’s what he’d give her to shower and dress. Ruthlessly he refocused his attention on the young journalist, and he found himself in agreement with Nurse Braxton’s description—“pretty and preppy.” The eyeglasses emphasized the intellige
nce in his eyes. Adding that to his unassuming air and enthusiasm about the castle, Reid understood why both Adair and Vi had been amenable to showing him the castle and the grounds, so he could write the initial story on their business and Eleanor’s jewels.
What would Nell think of him?
Realizing that his thoughts had once more gone to Nell, Reid prevented the frown from showing on his face. He hadn’t been able to completely rid his mind of her, since he’d dug her mother’s jewelry box out of the stones and unfolded those pink sheets of paper.
Entranced. Enchanted. Electrified. Those were just three of the words that described what he’d felt while he’d read them. She had an exceptional talent for creating images, and he’d recognized all of the settings—they were the places he and his brothers had played with the MacPherson sisters that long-ago summer. He’d never look at them the same way again. Especially not the gazebo. The memory of that tea party he’d attended when he was ten would be forever replaced by the scene she’d painted of undressing him slowly, inch by inch. Just thinking about it made his skin heat.
Instead of providing an answer to his questions, invading Nell’s privacy had only complicated his problem. Now he burned with a desire to fulfill every one of her fantasies.
And more.
How in the hell had it come to this? Where had it all begun?
When Reid found himself tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair, he stilled them.
“You stopped by the hospital in Albany to see Deanna Lewis,” Daryl was saying. “Why was that?”
Five more minutes, Reid decided. If Nell didn’t appear, he’d make some excuse and go get her.
“Background information,” Orbison said. “I like to be thorough in my research.”
Reid thought of his mother’s current project, and for the first time, his entire attention was captured by James Orbison. “Have you had a chance to visit what’s left of the Campbell estate in Scotland?”
“No. Much as I would like to go there, my editor couldn’t approve that kind of expense. At least not yet. If I can parlay my articles into a book deal, that might change.” He turned to Vi. “In the meantime, I’m perfectly happy to be doing research on this castle. I understand that your niece Nell is here visiting. I brought a copy of her book so she could sign it for me. I’d love to talk to her.”
“I’m afraid that Nell won’t be available. She’s on a deadline.” Reid leaned forward. “I can tell you what she’d ask if she were here. A writing question. What triggered your interest to write a story about the castle?”
“The Stuart sapphires, of course,” Orbison replied with a smile.
“Where did you first hear about them?” Reid asked.
“I was a history major at Princeton, and I wrote my senior thesis on Mary Stuart. That’s when I came across a photo of that painting that appeared in my article—the one of Mary Queen of Scots on her coronation day. When I saw Eleanor’s portrait, I recognized the jewels immediately.”
“Did you ever come across the means by which the sapphires came into the Campbells’ possession?” Daryl asked.
Orbison shook his head. “No.”
“What led you to Castle MacPherson?” Reid asked. “Before your article, the story of Eleanor’s jewels has always been a local one.”
Orbison’s face brightened. “It was by pure chance. I was driving through the Adirondacks on an impromptu vacation, and I stopped at the diner in Glen Loch. They were talking about the new wedding destination business that was being launched at the castle. By the time we finished our pancakes, I’d heard all about the legend and the story of how Angus built the castle for Eleanor. The owner of the diner, Edie, even had a copy of Nell’s book. When someone mentioned the sapphires’ connection to Mary Stuart, I called my editor and pitched him the idea of writing a feature article on the castle. He went for it.”
The explanation was plausible enough. Reid knew Daryl by now, and he would check every detail.
And where was Nell? More than ten minutes had passed. Had she gone out to the gazebo on her own? Panic had him rising from the table abruptly. “Excuse me,” he murmured as he strode toward the sliding glass doors to the kitchen. “There’s a call I have to make.”
On his way through the kitchen, Reid grabbed the thermos of coffee Vi had made and then increased his pace as he entered the hallway to the central foyer. He was three strides past the open door to the main parlor before he fully registered that Nell was standing in front of Eleanor’s portrait.
Stopping, he made himself draw in a deep breath. A cool head was essential if he was going to be able to do his job. When he stepped into the room, she didn’t move. Neither did Alba, who was lying at her feet. “I thought you’d gone ahead without me,” he finally said.
“No.” Nell didn’t turn to face him. She was too busy analyzing why it hadn’t even occurred to her to go out there to the gazebo by herself. A few days ago, the story would have been different. She would have snatched the opportunity to prove that she could find the necklace on her own. Now Reid’s opinion and his ideas were important to her. She’d even grown impatient while she’d been waiting for him to join her.
“I stopped here to gather my thoughts before joining you on the terrace.” Clasping her hands together, she finally met his eyes. “But if I had left you behind, it would have been tit for tat. You left me to meet with that journalist.”
“I was doing my job.” He opened the thermos and poured coffee for her while he filled her in on their successful search for the bullet. “What thoughts are you gathering? Have you changed your mind about the gazebo?”
“No. I still have a feeling that it plays an important part in the message that Eleanor left. It has to be a part of the puzzle. Otherwise, why choose that place to sit for her portrait? But seeing that journalist made me think about Daryl’s time line and where everything to do with Eleanor’s sapphires started.” She pointed at the whiteboard. “We’ve been concentrating on Adair’s discovery of the first earring and the Times article that made everything public. Those two events triggered all that’s happened here at the castle. But my thought is the real beginning has to go back to when Eleanor first wore those jewels. We know that she had them with her on the night she and Angus eloped. But we still don’t know how the Campbell family came to possess them.”
Reid turned to study the portrait. “Right. Cam called last night and told me there’s a portrait gallery of all the Campbell heirs and their families, including one of Eleanor’s parents and her sisters. The sapphires don’t appear in any of the paintings.”
“What if they had never belonged to the Campbells? If they had, surely the family would have wanted it known. Mary Stuart wore them in a painting celebrating her coronation. Eleanor wore them in this portrait. And she was wearing them in the dream I had last night.”
“What kind of dream?”
“She was dancing in a massive ballroom with a man. Not the ballroom here. There was a huge fire burning in a fireplace and candles everywhere. I’d swear that the dress she was wearing is the one she’s wearing in the painting. He looked familiar, but it definitely wasn’t Angus. Then the ballroom faded. Eleanor was kissing Angus beneath the stone arch, and she was wearing the same dress and the sapphires.”
When Reid said nothing, Nell shot him a sideways look. “I know dreams aren’t evidence. I know their meaning is at best symbolic. But look at the evidence we do have.
“No one is wearing them in the portrait gallery. Your mother hasn’t found any mention of them in the records that remain in the library. And she hasn’t come across any stories about them that have been handed down orally. Jewels like those sapphires generate talk. The legend of the stone arch is still being told—there and here. But the only place where there are stories about the Stuart sapphires is here.”
“Mom isn’t having any luck discovering the story behind Angus and Eleanor’s flight, either.” He poured her a refill out of the thermos. “Deanna Lewis claimed they
were never Eleanor’s dowry. What do you think happened?”
After taking a sip of coffee, she said, “Maybe they were a gift from this strange man she was dancing with in my dream. I might write it that way. It would certainly complicate everything.”
“It would explain why the jewels didn’t appear in any of the Campbell portraits,” Reid said.
“But it doesn’t explain the lack of stories. Whoever they belonged to must have been furious when they disappeared. Murders have occurred for less. Wars have started for less. Someone must have gone to a great deal of trouble to keep that story hushed up.”
“Someone may still be trying to keep it a secret. That may be why there was a fire in the library on the Campbell estate six months ago,” Reid mused. “It might also be a reason why someone spent so much time searching through the library here at the castle. Eleanor and Angus had to have known the story behind the sapphires. If she kept a journal...”
Nell grabbed his hand. “That’s what they might have been looking for. If this Gwendolen ‘Campbell’ really is a true descendent of the Campbell line, she wouldn’t want anyone to know who might have a better claim on those sapphires.”
“It still doesn’t explain why she thinks she has a better claim than you and your sisters,” Reid pointed out.
“Once we find the necklace, and she makes a play for it, we can ask her. Let’s go.”
The moment Nell opened the front door, Alba nosed her way through it, then turned and waited for them to follow.
Nell sighed. “Like it or not, it looks like I’ve picked up another guardian angel.”
Reid laughed as they headed toward the gardens.
13
THE MOMENT HE pushed aside the branches of the hedge so that Nell could slip through them, Reid’s senses went on full alert. Even as he tightened his grip on her hand, he noticed the disturbed dirt in the spot where he’d unearthed the flat stone step. “Someone has been here since I left.”