Everlastin' Book 1

by Mickee Madden

  “Take me home, Roan,” Agnes whimpered, holding dear to her nephew's arm as she turned her back to Beth. “I'm no' feelin' too weel.”

  The man's thick, sandy-colored eyebrows arched above soft-brown eyes. “Do you know this womon, Aggie?” he asked, his gaze unsettlingly searching Beth's features.

  “Aye,” Agnes whispered, then closed the gloved-gnarled hand over the handkerchief and held it to her breast. Taking a steadying breath, she forced herself to look at Beth. After a tense moment, she vainly attempted a smile.

  “Aye, I know her. You took me by surprise, Miss.”

  “I'm sorry,” Beth said irritably, although she was trying not to succumb to a strong urge to flare up at the man's continued perusal. “Agnes, I really need to get to the airport. David and Carlene haven't returned, and Lachlan's...he's, ah, he hasn't been himself. I just want to return to the States.”

  Again Agnes' reaction took Beth aback. The old woman released a wretched wail and turned away. Before Beth could think to stop her, Agnes was shuffling awkwardly over the slick ground. The passenger door slammed shut before Beth took a step in the vehicle's direction.

  “Wait,” the man warned, gripping Beth's upper arm. “Ye're an American, aren't you?”

  Beth glared at the large hand then looked up. “Yes, I am. Now if you would kindly take your oversized mitt off me!”

  The man's grip lessened, but remained firm enough to keep her in place. Although she didn't feel threatened by him, her temper began to warm her insides.

  “Mister—”

  “Ingliss. Roan Ingliss.”

  With an inward groan, Beth irritably brushed her unruly hair back from her face with the back of a hand. “Then perhaps, Mr. Ingliss, you can help me.”

  A look of wariness crept into the man's eyes. “Depends on wha' you need, lady.”

  “A ride to Preswick Airport.”

  “The airport?”

  “I can pay you in American money for your trouble.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of Roan's mouth. He couldn't for the life of him figure out what an American was doing at this place. His aunt had told him the last resident—also an American woman—had died some months ago.

  Releasing Beth, he called over his shoulder, “Aunt Aggie, come here.” He waited for several long seconds before issuing, “Aunt Aggie, it’s too damn cold to be tryin' ma patience. Come along now.”

  The van door opened.

  Roan looked at the stranger and found her anxiousness to be a curious thing. Then it dawned on him that the perplexing Yank was wearing nothing more than a lace gown.

  “Are you tryin' to put yerself down wi' pneumonia?” he asked harshly. Yanking off each glove and tucking them beneath an arm, he began to unbutton his lamb's wool coat. “You must be frozen near to death—”

  Then something extraordinary materialized beside the woman.

  Chapter 10

  A man appeared alongside the young woman with such unexpectedness, Roan was momentarily frozen in shock. There was little else he could do but stared incredulously into the riveting dark eyes across from him.

  “She needs naught from you!” the new arrival said, his tone as acid as his fierce look.

  Struck speechless, Roan continued to gawk at the man. His heart thundered almost painfully. If he didn't know better, he'd swear the stranger's gaze was condemning him. Never had he witnessed such tangible hatred in another man's face. If the newcomer's eyes could strike him down, Roan was sure he would be lying on the ground, his blood spilling from his body.

  “Get off ma property, you Ingliss swine!”

  Roan gave a shake of his head. He glanced over his shoulder to see his aunt frozen in place, the look on her face bringing home a reality Roan wasn't sure he was ready to accept.

  He'd heard tales of the ghost of Kist House all his life, but to be confronted with him was mind-boggling—certainly something he never really expected to personally experience. But the man's sudden appearance from out of thin air was not something a living being could accomplish, unless he was a magician.

  “Return to the house,” Lachlan ordered Beth, his gaze continuing its slow drill into Roan's face.

  Beth's eyes flashed up at his profile. “I'm going home!”

  Lachlan clenched his teeth so hard, a muscle bunched up along his jawline. “You are home! Now, get in the house! I'll join you when ma business wi' this Ingliss swine is finished.”

  “Wait just a damn minute,” Roan sputtered.

  Quaking with anger, Beth stiffened and looked at stranger. The man's face was racked with uncertainty and awe, but she sensed a strength in him that offered her hope of escaping the insanity she'd been trapped within since her arrival.

  “Will you give me a ride to the airport, Mr. Ingliss?”

  Roan swallowed hard when Lachlan Baird's scornful eyes delivered him a mute warning. But he wasn't a man who easily gave in to intimidation. He was also concerned for the woman.

  What on earth was a ghost—although he was still having trouble accepting the man as such—doing with a flesh and blood beauty like the American?

  “Aye, Miss, I'll give you a ride, but first I need to have a word wi' His Nibs.”

  “I'll no' let you leave, Beth,” Lachlan growled, his glower riveted on Roan.

  “Get yer things together,” Roan told Beth. “I'll be waitin' here when ye're ready.”

  “The hell— Beth!” Lachlan barked when she whirled away in the direction of the house. “You could at least give me the courtesy o' hearin' me ou', first!”

  “Drop dead!” Beth hissed over her shoulder.

  “I am dead!”

  Lachlan sucked in a breath as Beth ran to the house. When he looked again at the Ingliss man, fury masked his face. “You've a lot to learn, laddie. This once I'll forgive yer arrogance, but the next time you interfere....”

  His face flushed with anger, Roan released a mocking laugh. “Don't waste yer threats on me, old mon. If no' for you makin' a bletherin' fool ou' o' ma cousin, and Aggie pleadin' wi' me to take over the work here, I'd no' be dirtyin' ma boots on yer damned soil.”

  A sardonic grin sprang to Lachlan's mouth. So, at long last, one of the Ingliss clan showed some spine. He sensed a strength in this one that, were it owning of anyone else, he would have admired. But this was an Ingliss, and the presence of Ingliss blood, warm and flowing through a living body, clouded Lachlan's thinking.

  “So, ye're to take Borgie's place, are you?”

  Roan flexed his shoulders beneath his lamb's wool coat. “Wi' a few revisions to the arrangement.”

  “Wha' be they?” Lachlan asked in a low, sinister tone.

  “We Inglisses have been little more than slaves to you in the past, Baird.”

  “The term 'slaves' applies to human bondage. We both know there's no' a worthwhile human trait in one o' yer clan. Tis a debt to me and this house you owe.”

  “Long paid,” Roan bit out, his livid expression matching that of his adversary's. “I'm here to make you an offer, if you've the sense to listen.”

  “Watch yerself, laddie boy.”

  One of Roan's eyebrows rose. “It's a fair enough deal I'm offerin'. It'll be no skin off ma nose if you turn it down.”

  “Fair, you say?” The air about Lachlan began to crackle with energy. “Tis me who'll determine wha's fair or no', you blastie!”

  Roan gave a solemn shake of his head. “I'm glad it's beneath yer dignity to resort to name-callin'. Now, do we talk like civilized men, or do I leave you to yer tantrums, Mister Baird?”

  * * *

  Beth hurriedly packed the remains of her belongings, her face lit with excitement, her movements almost spastic. She refused to think about Lachlan or what Carlene and David would say when they returned to find her gone. Once she was far away from Baird House—preferably in the quiet security of her home in Washington State—then, and only then, could she begin to make sense out of the twisted bouts of delirium plaguing her.

  Clos
ing the suitcase, she looked over the slacks and top she'd laid out. This was it. All she had to do was change into her own clothing and walk out the front door. She would not look back, and certainly would not meet Lachlan's mesmerizing eyes.

  Then her hands smoothed out the front of the gown as a queasy feeling stirred in her stomach.

  Was it excitement unsettling her or was she actually experiencing pangs of remorse at the thought of putting Lachlan and the house behind her?

  Fool!

  Throwing back her head, she squeezed her eyes shut against the tears trying to build up behind them.

  She'd never known an indecisive moment in her life until she came to Scotland, and that seemed an eternity ago. Her previous life seemed more the dream now.

  How could she love a man like Lachlan after all he'd done?

  Love.

  The thought was utterly agonizing.

  She did love him. God help her, but she couldn't deny it. But entwined with the love was mistrust and anger. The two should overwhelm the former, but they didn't. He possessed her heart so completely she couldn't trust herself to be alone with him for even a few seconds.

  Damn you, she cursed him, a tremor coursing through her body. Your obsession with me is evil!

  “Beth.”

  The soft voice caused Beth a violent start. Snapping her head around, she gaped at two figures standing by the window nearest the bathroom.

  A shroud of incredulity descended over her brain.

  The man was dressed in a dark dress suit and shiny black shoes.

  Carlene was dressed in the same outfit as when Beth had last seen her.

  “We've come to take you back with us,” Carlene said with a tenuous smile.

  A long minute passed in silence.

  Carlene's hands came up, and she exposed her palms to Beth in a gesture of sorrow. “We wanted to appear before now but we were afraid Lachlan would—”

  “Carlene,” Beth said dully, her body as numb as her mind.

  “Yes, Beth.” Carlene released a broken laugh. “I-I'm sure you believe I betrayed our friendship, but Lachlan—”

  “Yes...Lachlan.” Beth felt a quick rush of dizziness sweep through her before she could bring herself to draw upon an inner reserve of stamina.

  So, Carlene and David had decided to come home.

  Too bad it was too late, for Beth was determined to leave Scotland before the day was over.

  “Beth, you've got to listen to me.”

  “Why?” Beth gave an airy shrug of her shoulders. “You decided to play matchmaker, didn't you?”

  “Beth—”

  Anger flashed in Beth's eyes. “It nearly cost me my sanity, damn you!”

  “You have to let me explain my side of this.”

  “I'm leaving. Sorry we don't have time for a nice little chat, but my ride's waiting.”

  “Lachlan won't let you leave!” Carlene cried, taking a step in Beth's direction.

  Beth calmly raked a measuring look over her friend then took an added moment to study David. As lifeless as the curtain hanging behind his right shoulder, he continued to stare at her as if unseeing, his hazel eyes set within a pale, well-boned face. Although his countenance was devoid of expression, Beth sensed his unease.

  “No one can stop me from leaving. I'm really disappointed in you, Carlene. I thought we had the kind of friendship that could withstand anything.”

  “There isn't time to explain everything right now!” Carlene exclaimed with mounting irritability.

  “Right. Because I'm leaving!”

  “Beth, if Lachlan discovers we've come for you.... Dammit, he wants you to stay in this house with him!”

  “Tell me something I don't know,” Beth sneered. “Do you know he believes he's dead?” She laughed humorlessly. “But what's even more outrageous, he believes I'm dead, too. Oh, and you and David as well. There are headstones bearing our names in the back field.”

  “Beth—”

  “Swell character you tried to fix me up with, old buddy,” Beth went on, bitterness lacing her tone as she took two steps in her friend's direction. “Personally, I can't ever recall saying or doing anything to give you the impression I was that hard-up for male companionship.”

  “Beth, shut up! Just come with us. David and I will take care of you.”

  Beth's mouth gaped open in disbelief then shut. “I don't need anyone to take care of me.”

  “We haven't much time!”

  “I'm going home. Sorry if this sounds a...wee...ungrateful, but go to hell! Carlene, I don't want to ever see or hear from you again. Am I making myself clear?”

  Snatching up her slacks, panties, and top from the bed, Beth stalked toward the bathroom. But Carlene was quick to stand in the doorway, refusing to move as she stared heatedly into Beth's fiery eyes.

  “You still refuse to accept it, don't you?” she accused.

  Beth made a move to shove past her friend, but Carlene pushed her back a step.

  “I knew you were dying after David and I were killed in the accident.”

  Beth flinched. “You're insane.”

  “The fall you took down the stairs had nothing to do with—”

  “What did he offer you to go along with this...this sick hoax, huh? What did it take for you to sell out our friendship?”

  “In the beginning, I-I approved of Lachlan's plan to bring you here, but I began to regret the decision before you left the States. But Lachlan wouldn't let me warn you, Beth! You have to believe me!”

  “Believe you?” Beth parroted sarcastically.

  “You're not listening to what I'm saying!”

  “I am listening, but the words are coming from the mouth of a madwoman! I would know if I was really dead. Wouldn't I? Wouldn't I?”

  Carlene's demeanor wilted and tears spilled from her eyes. “I couldn't stand the thought of you dying alone. That was the only reason I went along with Lachlan's plan. You've got to believe me.”

  “I'm not de—”

  A swell of anguish moved up through Beth, but she locked her teeth and clenched her fists to abort it from escaping her in the form of a wail. Her slender body quaked. Despite her resistance, the mental wall she had so carefully constructed against the truth began to crumble.

  “David and I have been hiding just out of Lachlan's reach. We don't know what is waiting beyond for us, but we'll be together, Beth. Don't be afraid to pass on to the next plane of existence with us. We love you. There is only Lachlan keeping you here.”

  Unexpectedly, Beth experienced an electrifying wash of sensation sweep through her. A curtain of absolute calm descended on her. Her anger waned. The deep-rooted threads of self-grief shredded as the fragmented workings of her thoughts fell quietly into place, coalescing, and at long last ending her torment of denial.

  The oddly rapt expression on Beth's face set off an alarm in Carlene's brain. “Beth, what's wrong?”

  “Nothing. Nothing's wrong.”

  “Something's happening—”

  Beth's wistful smile took Carlene aback. “Yes, Lachlan is keeping me here,” she said quietly, “but not in the sense you mean, Carlene. He loves me. And I love him enough not to want to be separated from him.”

  “You don't know what you're saying. You don't understand the power—”

  “His power over me?” Beth gave a low chuckle then sobered. “What caused my death?”

  “We don't have time—”

  “Never mind,” Beth said, already turning toward the door. “I'll ask Lachlan.”

  “Beth, please!”

  With calm and dignity, Beth tossed her clothing back atop the bed and headed for the hall. At the threshold, she stopped and looked over her shoulder, her eyes warm with compassion. “I'm sorry I lashed out at you. I understand your motives now, really I do. You and David go on. I'll find my own way.”

  “Lachlan won't ever let you leave this house. He's obsessed with you!”

  “I'm a lot stronger than you think.”

>   When Beth disappeared into the hall, Carlene buried her face in her hands and began to weep. David watched his wife for several seconds before going to her and resting his hands on her trembling shoulders.

  “There isn't any more we can do.”

  Like lightning, Carlene slapped David's chest. “Thanks for the backup!” she charged, tears streaming down her sallow face. “You just stood there like a zombie!”

  “I'm beginning to feel like one.” With a wry grin, he entwined his fingers through her hair. “We've done all we can. She's awakened to the truth. Let her make up her own mind as to what she wants.”

  “She's confused.”

  “Not anymore.”

  To keep his wife from staying behind, David Cambridge wrapped his arms about her and anchored her to him. They faded together as one then began their long journey to what lay beyond the grayness where they'd hidden for what seemed an eternity.

  * * *

  “Ye’re daft!” Lachlan hissed. “Pay an Ingliss? Over ma dead, rottin' corpse!”

  Roan stubbornly folded his arms across his broad chest. “You'll be gettin' yer money's worth.”

  Lachlan sucked in a great breath through his nostrils. The Ingliss' request had stunned then amused him, but when he realized the brazen man was quite serious in the arrangement he'd suggested, Lachlan's temper was quick to surface.

  “I'll be havin' yer head on a silver tray, you useless corbie. You've got nerve. No brains but nerve.”

  “I'm an honest, fair mon,” Roan corrected, his tone deep controlled.

  “An Ingliss knows only takin'.”

  Roan locked his teeth so hard, pain shot up along his jawline. “Seems to me, old mon, you've been doin' the takin' for over a century now.”

  “I'm warnin' you, Ingliss—”

  A tunnel of mist appeared behind the laird's left shoulder. Beth emerged from within it. “Lachlan!”

  The master of Baird House turned his head sharply at the command in Beth's tone. He waited in simmering silence until she was at his side then with as much calm as he could muster, he issued, “I ask you kindly, now, Beth, go back to the house and wait for me.”