by J. D. Robb
His tone was gentler than before. As though he’d decided upon a temporary truce. “Sleep now. Tomorrow will be soon enough to explain your reason for being here.”
She could feel his eyes, dark and fierce, pinning her with that look that seemed to see clear through to her soul.
Her own eyes felt heavy. And though she had a hundred questions still unanswered, she was too weary to ask them. Where had she landed? What sort of place had rabbits and kittens that turned into human form? Why was everyone here treating her as the odd one, when it was clear that she was the only sane one among them? Or could it be that this castle was in some other dimension? An alternate universe? Could she be suffering some sort of mental breakdown?
Snug and warm, her head still pounding from the fall, she drifted into a restless, dream-filled sleep in which the apron-clad groundhog was offering her tea and scones and telling her to beware, and a plump gray rabbit was sponging the blood from her head and pouring it into a tankard for her to drink, insisting it was good for her.
The whole world had gone mad.
* * *
Beth lay perfectly still, listening to the sound that had wakened her. The whispering of the wind? Or voices? Voices, she decided. They sounded very near, but when she looked around, the room was in darkness except for the dim light from the hot coals on the grate.
“You promised to find someone to do the deed.” A woman’s whisper, low with anger, drifted on the breeze.
“I found a hunter.” The man’s tone was soft, placating. “I’ve secured a place for him here with the other guests. But I don’t trust him.”
“Why?”
“Now that he has seen the splendor of this place, he is demanding more gold than he’d first agreed upon. He threatens to reveal our secret unless we double our offer. I need to find another to do the deed.”
“Fool! There’s no time left. It must be done before we leave. If my debts are made public, my husband will refuse to pay. I fear he’ll leave me this time. I’ll be a pauper.”
“As will I, if I don’t soon make good on my promise to Judith’s father.”
“What foolish promises have you made now?”
“He learned that I’ve been neglecting her in favor of gambling and . . . other women. If he should tell her, and she leaves, all will be lost. I’ve given my word to give up my vices and become a dutiful husband.”
The woman’s voice lowered to a hiss. “Your hunter must finish this.”
“For double the price?”
“What do we care what price he demands?” There was a hint of smile in the woman’s words. “Once the deed is done, we’ll see that he takes his secret to his grave. That way, we get to keep it all. Ours, as well as what he demanded.”
There was a long stretch of silence before the man’s voice sounded hushed. “How clever of you. You’re right, of course. He leaves us no choice. If we’re ever to be free, we must rid ourselves of all obstacles.”
“There will be a new moon rising soon. Send your man to Stag’s Head Peak as soon as it appears in the sky.”
“’Twill serve the beast right. All his grand talk about honor. He values his family lands more than his family’s needs. I’d gladly trade both honor and land for the gold it will bring us.” The man’s voice was chilling. “Soon it will all be ours. And no one will be the wiser. Even while they mourn their loss, our clansmen will cheer the death of a beast that fills all their hearts with terror.”
“And all will hail the day that they were finally set free of the Beast of the Highlands.”
CHAPTER THREE
Beth jolted upright and felt a moment of panic at the shadows leaping and dancing across the walls of her room. When she realized they were caused by the flames on the grate, she let out a sigh of relief.
Had she really overheard a plot to kill Colin Gordon? Or had it all been a bad dream? After that fall, and the crazy night she’d put in, she couldn’t be certain of anything. She decided that, at least for now, she would store it away, along with all the other strange nightmares that had plagued her sleep. They’d been so disjointed, so terrifying, they couldn’t possibly be anything more than bits and pieces of nonsense. It had to be as Colin Gordon had told his housekeeper. The fall had affected her mind.
The dawn sky outside the balcony was awash with ribbons of pink and gold and mauve. If she moved quickly she might still be able to repair the damage she’d caused by her embarrassing introduction. That awkward fall on the way to the lodge had ruined any hope of making a grand entrance. On the contrary, she’d made a complete fool of herself the previous evening. She’d not only barged in on a party, but had angered her host.
At least he’d been gracious enough to permit her to stay the night. But he’d been angry enough to let her know he felt he had no choice. No matter what arrangements had been made by the firm, she feared she would not be welcome to remain another day. She needed to meet with him as soon as possible and present the firm’s offer, before she lost her best, her only, chance to make a deal.
She touched a hand to her head, where a dull ache was a reminder of just how hard she’d fallen.
She shoved aside the bed linens and got to her feet.
She could find no light switch. What in the world . . . ? Could Colin Gordon be so determined to honor his family’s history that he’d refused to switch his hunting lodge over to electricity?
And where were her clothes? Apparently the housekeeper had taken them away to be cleaned. In their place lay a very old-fashioned costume. Some sort of gown of unbleached ivory wool, along with a soft chemise and knee-length drawers that appeared to be hand-embroidered with delicate rosebuds.
Was this intentional? Was she being informed that the masquerade party would last the entire weekend?
Feeling foolish, Beth washed herself in a basin of rose water she found on a nightstand and dressed in the costume the old woman had provided, then pulled on a pair of soft kid boots. She crossed to a mirror and couldn’t help laughing at the sight that greeted her. She looked like one of those characters in the fairy tales her grandmother had enjoyed reading to her. It was a far cry from the chic image she’d learned to project at work.
Without hairspray and pins, she wasn’t able to fasten her hair in its usual no-nonsense knot at the back of her head. Instead she was forced to run her fingers through it and let it fall long and loose to spill past her shoulders.
“All right, all you lords and ladies,” she said to her reflection in the mirror. “Two can play this game.”
She stepped out of her room.
A youth was lounging against the wall. At the sound of her door opening he straightened, while his hand went to the sword at his waist.
Beth tried to cover her surprise. “Good morning. I wasn’t expecting to see anyone up at this hour. And in full costume, too.”
The boy looked around rather wide-eyed before saying, “The laird’s belowstairs. He said I was to report to him as soon as ye showed yerself.”
“Fine. I’ll let you lead the way.”
Instead of walking in front of her, he waited until she reached the staircase before falling into step beside her, darting quick glances as they walked.
“And just where is the . . . laird?”
“In the library, m’lady.” As they reached the lower level he indicated a hallway, and Beth moved along at his side until they came to huge, intricately carved double doors.
The lad knocked and the voice from within called, “Come.”
“The lady is here, m’laird.” The youth stood aside, allowing Beth to precede him.
“Thank you, Jamie.” Colin Gordon appeared distracted, staring out a window and frowning.
In the dancing light from the fire on the hearth he was even more darkly handsome than he’d seemed the previous night. He wore the same length of plaid over some sort of full-sleeved,
saffron shirt. His long hair was tied back with a narrow strip of hide.
His eyes reflected the firelight, gleaming like a cat’s as he turned to study Beth. He looked, she thought, exactly like a Highland warrior about to do battle. He was perfectly suited to play the role of lord of the manor.
“Shall I wait, m’laird?” Jamie stood just inside the door, his hand at his sword, shooting nervous glances at the young woman beside him.
“Nay. I’ll summon you when we’ve finished.”
When the door closed behind the lad, Colin Gordon watched in silence as Beth crossed the room to stand in front of him.
He was wearing the same frown he’d worn last night every time he looked at her. Still, with so many guests here, this may be the only time she would have his undivided attention. She seized the opportunity.
“Thank you for the clothes.”
“You may thank old Maura.”
“I will, when I see her. I’m sorry for that awkward scene last night.” She managed a smile, though her heart was racing. “I fell and hit my head on my way here, and I’m afraid it left me a bit muddled. But now, after a good night’s sleep, I’m feeling much better. I’d like to fill you in on the offer my firm is prepared to make.”
“Offer? Firm? I know not these words.”
Oh, the man was good. His face had gone deliberately blank, as though he hadn’t a care in the world about the offer. Or maybe millions of dollars didn’t matter to an already wealthy man. Still, since he’d been alerted to her arrival, and the reason for her visit, he had to be aware of what her firm was planning.
Beth realized that Colin Gordon wasn’t going to make this easy for her. If she wanted to seal this deal, she would have to be every bit as cagey as he.
She pasted on her best professional smile and held out the packet of documents she’d prepared before leaving New York. “Maybe we could sit and go over these point by point.”
He led the way to a massive hand-carved desk.
Before either of them could take a seat, the door was opened and a pack of hounds burst into the room, barking, howling, and slathering as they formed a circle around their host and his guest.
Beth let out a cry of terror and cowered against the desk.
Colin gave a quiet command, and the hounds turned into a cluster of men, laughing, talking among themselves.
Beth clutched her arms to her chest, on the verge of tears. It was clear to her that the bump to her head had been much more serious than she’d first thought. She was still seeing impossible visions. And though the vision had cleared, revealing humans, she found herself questioning her sanity.
One of the men slapped a second man on the back. “Hamish here wants to bet me a hundred gold pieces that he’ll be the last man standing if ye’ll agree to a contest.”
Their host’s head came up sharply. “What sort of contest, Ian?”
Ian’s ruddy young companion was grinning from ear to ear. A toothy smile so wide, it seemed to stretch his face to the limit.
“I know ye’re planning a hunt. Hamish can best any man here.”
“Except you, m’laird,” the grinning young man added with a slight bow.
“So I’ve heard, Hamish. I am told you are the master with both dirk and longbow.”
Hamish’s smile stretched even wider. “With enough ale in me, I might even beat ye, m’laird. And I’d dearly love to double my money with Ian here.”
“What you two choose to wager is your own business.” Colin shot a knowing look at the one called Ian. “But I’ve already warned you that I’ll not pay your debts, brother.”
At his use of that term, Beth shot him a look of surprise, before reality dawned. Ian would be Colin’s stepbrother.
Colin set aside the documents Beth had given him and walked around the desk. “Since you’re dressed and eager for the day, I suggest we go to the refectory and see what Mistress MacKay has prepared.”
Beth’s heart sank. Her one moment was gone, and with it, perhaps her only chance to speak privately with Colin Gordon.
Her host turned to her. “You’re welcome to join us as we break our fast, though I assure you the other ladies are still abovestairs, as is their custom.”
Perhaps food would restore a clear mind. “Thank you. I’ll join you.”
The noisy revelers led the way from the room, and her host approached and offered his arm, indicating that he would escort her. Tentatively Beth placed a hand on his sleeve.
The heat that danced along her flesh had her looking up at him. He looked down at her in the same instant, and the feeling intensified. As if little fires were being set up and down her spine.
She saw the flash of something dark and dangerous in his eyes, and her throat went suddenly dry.
“Will you honor me by joining us in the hunt, my lady?”
There was no way she could graciously refuse her host’s offer. “I would be delighted.”
He closed a hand over hers. “I am honored.”
Walking ahead, Hamish said something before punching Ian in the arm.
Colin’s stepbrother swore good-naturedly before returning the blow to his friend’s shoulder, sending the taller man bumping against the wall.
Hamish was still rubbing a hand over the tender spot as they entered a room lined with rough wooden tables and benches. Several young women were dashing about, setting out platters piled high with slices of meat and joints of fowl. In the middle of the room stood old Maura, calling out orders and chastising any server who happened to move too slowly.
When the group of men entered, Maura called out a greeting before disappearing. Minutes later she appeared alongside a tall blue crane, its beady eyes unblinking, its head making jerking movements as it walked stiff-legged toward their host.
Beth blinked and the tall bird turned into a stick-thin woman in a long white apron, her dark hair pulled into a severe bun at the back of her head.
“Ah, Mistress MacKay.” Colin stopped, and his entire company paused at either side of a long table. “What have you prepared for my guests this morrow?”
“Fowl, m’laird. And yer favorite, warm bread puddin’.”
Beth watched as Colin’s face creased into a smile, which completely transformed him from stern warrior to dangerously handsome rogue. She couldn’t decide which one intrigued her more. She was prepared to stand toe-to-toe with the warrior. The rogue, on the other hand, presented a much greater problem. She couldn’t imagine any weapon she could use against that heart-melting smile.
“You do know how to please me, Mistress MacKay.”
“And have, since ye were a wee bairn, m’laird.”
Laughing, Colin walked to the head of the table and indicated a wooden bench to his right. He remained standing until Beth and his guests were seated.
Old Maura hurried over to ask, “Will ye have ale or mead, m’lady?”
Recalling her dream, Beth quickly discarded the idea of blood-red mead. “Ale, I believe, Maura.” She noted with a sense of unease that her host had been right when he’d warned her that she would be the only female in the room, except for those who were serving the men. “Why are the other women not here, Maura?”
The old woman whispered, “’Tis too early for highborn ladies. They prefer to break their fast in their rooms, and then allow servants to help them prepare for the day.”
“I see.” Beth glanced around. “Will they mind that I’ve joined their men?”
The old woman gave a mirthless laugh. “They’ll not give you a thought, m’lady.”
The men seated around the table were too eager making plans for the test of skills to even acknowledge the presence of a lone woman in their midst. She could have been invisible for all the interest they paid her.
“Where will we hold the contest, Ian?” one of them asked.
Colin’s stepb
rother was quick to respond. “In the high meadow.”
“So far? Just below Stag’s Head Peak?” Hamish raised a brow. “We dare not tarry up there, or we could encounter the Beast.”
Ian sent him a chilling look, and in that moment he became a sly, cunning fox, his eyes alight with sudden knowledge. “The forests around the high meadow are lush with game this time of year. ’Twill be an easy matter for the lads to scare up enough quail and pheasants to make the contest interesting.”
Another man spoke up. “If the lads are busy shaking the bushes for game, we’ll be scattered in every direction. Who’s to fetch our game as we take it down?”
The fox merely smiled, as though anticipating the argument. “We’re all honorable men. We need no judge riding alongside us to keep a tally of the kill.” He turned to his brother. “Unless you’ve a better idea?”
Colin shrugged. “Murdoch has a right to question. We’ll send as many lads as we can spare to retrieve the dead game when the contest is over. Since every man here has his own distinct feathers affixed to his arrows, it will be an easy matter to see who brought down the most.”
The fox’s eyes glittered. “There. The laird has spoken. Eat up, lads. Then we will make haste to the high meadow.”
“And if we’re delayed until darkness?” Hamish persisted.
The fox shot a meaningful glance at the others. “I’ll send some lasses from the village to hold yer hand and help ye forget yer fear, coward.”
The others around the table burst into gales of teasing laughter, and Hamish ducked his head, while the fox transformed from animal to human.
Beth had watched and listened in silence, too stunned by the quick transformation of Ian into both fox and man to pay close attention to his words. Either she was completely losing her mind, or she’d landed in a place that was both magical and dangerous. And for now, she would cling to the hope that, though she felt completely lucid, something otherworldly had taken over her life. Though a contest between warriors interested her not in the least, she felt a tingle at the base of her skull. She tried to recall the words from that frightening dream. Hadn’t they mentioned Stag’s Head Peak? Or was she merely inviting drama that didn’t exist?