"William has been…troubled," she began. Gossip spread so quickly around the small community that she schooled herself from saying more. The Connery family had been with Mayfair for years, but Mary recognized the land mines ahead of her. If William was insane, if he was suffering from some terrible mental illness, then everything and everyone at Mayfair would be in jeopardy. Before she got them all worked up and excited, it would be better to find out what was wrong with William.
"He's been riding a lot at night. A dangerous habit," Kevin said evenly.
"Dr. Sloan should be here in the next fifteen minutes," Abby said briskly. "Now, Mary, help me get his shoes off and some warm blankets piled on him. Kevin, tend to your chores in the barn. And put a kettle on for some tea on your way out. William is sick, but Mary looks as if she could use a spot of something warm to drink."
In the bustle of Abby's orders, Mary found a respite. William's color was better, and the terrible sweating had diminished. She reached under the blankets Abby was piling on him and took his hand. There was a tiny degree of warmth in it.
Once he was better, she would make him confront the issue of his strange behavior. She'd waited, more patiently than most, to allow him time to work through the shifts in personality in his own way. She was no fool, though. He had to seek professional help. No matter that Mayfair and his inheritance might be at stake. Bother the estate and all that went with it. His health, and their future, was all that really mattered. Somehow she'd make him see that.
"I think he's coming around," Mary said. William's lips parted and closed, soft words were mumbled under his breath. Hands and legs moved beneath the blankets. A new worry nagged at Mary. Would he wake up in this reality, or the past?
She saw his eyelids begin to shift. They opened, revealing unfocused gray eyes. He looked at Mary and then around the room. "I'm near frozen to death," he said, his teeth chattering to prove it.
"You'll be warm soon," Mary said. She clung to his hand. "William, you scared half a lifetime out of me." She spoke softly, but she couldn't help the tension in her voice. "And everyone else here at Mayfair."
"What happened?" William's glance took in Abby, who'd left the room and was now returning with a tray laden with tea and biscuits.
"Ah, a little food might be the best thing for you," Abby said as she put the tray down beside the sofa. "I was thinking you'd come around as soon as we got you warm."
"I feel like I've been taken to the north country and left during a blizzard." William's smile was rueful.
"You've been riding that horse through the fog and chill. And your bride-to-be followed along like a foolish pup," Abby said, but her tone belied her stinging words. "What is it you seek in the night?" Her question was softly put and loaded with worry.
"I don't know." William's answer was equally soft, and puzzled.
The sound of John letting Dr. Sloan in ended the conversation.
"I think I'm well enough to go to my room," William said, swinging his feet off the sofa. "I'm sorry you were called, Dr. Sloan. I'm feeling perfectly fine."
"Have a cup of tea with the doctor," Abby suggested. "You'll feel better, and so will he." She pressed a cup into his hand before he could resist. Just as efficiently, she served Dr. Sloan and Mary, and then quickly left the room.
Mary cleared her throat. "William, you must talk with the doctor."
"I'm fine, now," William argued.
"For the moment." She went to sit beside him. "We have to talk with Dr. Sloan. Trust me, now. This can't go on. The next time…"
The resistance left William's eyes. "I was hoping there wouldn't be a next time. I thought it was done. Over. But it isn't, is it, Mary?"
"No, my love." She kissed his cheek, then gave him a smile as he started to speak to the doctor.
Together they told Dr. Sloan about the episodes William had been experiencing.
"It's far from my expertise," Dr. Sloan said, his deep concern clear in the furrows of his forehead. "I was your doctor when you were a lad, and a healthier, happier boy could not be found anywhere in Scotland. But stress and worry can manifest themselves in peculiar ways. And that's not to rule out some chemical or mental malfunction." His clear eyes caught William's gaze and held it steady. "It could be stress, or it could be something far worse, William. You have to find out. It isn't just your future, or that of your lovely bride-to-be. The community depends on Mayfair and your stewardship of it. You know that. Should you fall ill, there could be grave consequences."
"I know." William leaned forward so that his elbows were on his knees.
"I think I'll make us another pot of tea," Mary said tactfully. She wanted to give the men time to talk. William would eventually tell her everything, but he needed a chance to express his worries and concerns to his doctor.
She closed the library door and felt once again the chill of the night in the drafty hallway. It was as if a hand from the grave had slipped down her spine.
When she felt something brush against her leg, she almost screamed before she recognized Familiar.
"So, you and William are up to taking turns to make sure I go crazy with worry," she said, stooping to pick up the cat. He was fully recovered from his illness. "When do I get a chance to show my other side and drive the two of you crazy?"
Familiar took a graceful leap out of her arms. She was too tired to chuckle at his antics as he rolled on the floor. "I've a pot of tea to make, my fine, black friend. You'll have to wait until later for a belly rub."
As she started to the kitchen, Familiar grabbed her leg with his claws. He didn't break the skin, but held firm.
"Familiar." She shook her leg gently to disengage him, but he only clung harder.
"Give it up, my furry friend." When she bent down to untangle him, he jumped to his feet and meowed. Looking back at her, he led the way down the hall to the back door.
"I have to go to the kitchen," Mary said, following him, anyway. He was acting so strange, and the idea that he, too, might show another personality change, made her loath to ignore him. "Well, just for a moment I'll indulge you."
The cat immediately increased his pace. He didn't even pause at the back door but pushed it open and slipped into the night.
The idea of stepping back into the cold made Mary shiver, yet she didn't stop. She had to get Familiar back inside. It was a foul night out, not fit for man or cat. Searching the courtyard, she caught sight of him headed toward the stables. He stopped in a pool of light and looked back at her, as if waiting for her to follow.
"Okay," she said, hurrying after him. "But you'd better have a good reason for this."
At the barn, Familiar waited again. Mary caught up with him and was about to speak when she heard voices in earnest conversation. Something about the tone made her stop, and when she heard William's name, she listened.
"I'm going to tell William." It was Kevin who spoke, and he was agitated.
"Wait, Kevin. This isn't the time. William is not well." John Connery's voice was worn with weariness. "I've been trying to tell you for the past two months, this is something that will require time, patience, regard for everyone involved."
"If it's true, then we both have a right to know. We can't go on pretending."
"You're upset, and I understand." John's voice was strained.
"For two months I've waited, first for William to come home so I could discuss this with him, and now for the proper time. I can see there won't ever be a good time to bring up this subject. In the meantime, everything continues right along— he's the heir to Mayfair, and I'm the trainer at his stables." Kevin's anger grew. "That may well be the case, but if what you've told me is true, then some portion of Mayfair is mine."
In the darkness outside the door, Mary felt the blood drain from her face. What was Kevin saying?
"Abby and I have loved you like our own son," John said. "I didn't want her to tell you about Joanna, but she felt that you had a right to your chance of a heritage. I was afraid that if things didn
't work out, it would make you bitter, angry. You're too fine a man to live the rest of your life feeling cheated, Kevin. Promise that whatever happens, you won't let this spoil your life."
"What are my legal rights? I've waited long enough to find out."
Kevin's question sent a chill down Mary's spine. It wasn't what he was asking, but the way he was asking it. Mayfair was incredibly important to William, and he would brook no threat against it, not even from a kinsman.
"You'll have to find a solicitor to tell you that. There are tests to prove blood kinships, I'm sure. We'll have to find your mother."
"And where is my dear sweet mum?"
Mary had never heard such bitterness.
"The last we heard, she'd emigrated to Australia, Kevin. Now you can't go blaming her. She was a child herself, and infatuated with William's father."
"So Lord MacEachern continued with the family tradition of seducing the servants, taking advantage of a young maid." Kevin spat the sentence out. "'Tis a fine inheritance."
"It wasn't that way," John said, his voice anguished. "Such bitterness, Kevin, will be the ruin of you. Joanna was a young girl. Young and foolish, but not mean or cruel. She was as bright as a ray of sunshine, but she was obsessed with William's father. She made up her mind to have him, and I do believe she did. When she became pregnant, he offered to help her. But she left during the dead of night. Six months later, we found you on the stoop of the cottage with a note from Joanna."
"Thrown away like an old shoe."
At that, John laughed. "Hardly. Joanna knew that Abby and I wanted a child more than anything in the world. We couldn't have any. She found you the best home that could ever have been."
Kevin's sigh was audible. "That she did," he said. "I've never gone a day without feeling the love of you both."
"Keep that in mind, Kevin, and bide your time awhile. William is in a bad position. He's under pressure to marry, as you well know. Should he fail in that regard, it will be a real donnybrook in the courts to see who owns Mayfair. As it is, he's been gone for many years, and has much catching up to do. But he seems to be a fair man. Give him a chance to hear your story and see if he isn't willing to settle fairly with you."
"And what of Erick?"
"If William marries, as the trust decrees, Erick will have little to say what becomes of Mayfair."
"And that's justice!" Kevin's tone was angry once again. "Who's worked these last years to keep William's heritage together for him?"
"That's nothing to do with William or Erick. That's the way it's always been at Mayfair. And the way it will continue, I'm sure. First born is heir, as long as he meets the obligations. If William fails, then Erick will have his chance."
"And me?"
"Even with Erick there's no guarantee that you'll be recognized. It would seem you'd be next in line to inherit, if your bloodline could be proven. But that's neither here nor there. William will marry, and he will meet the conditions of the trust.
"Let him settle in and make his plans. There's time aplenty to decide the matter of your parents. I believe he'll be fair with you, Kevin. He was always a lonely child, but one with a good heart. He often shared his tea and biscuits with me because he had no other playmates, except for Darren, when that lad could escape from the clutches of his mother." John sighed. "Now there's a sad case. It's a wonder that boy can even think straight. Warped, he should be. To this day, he follows his mother like a shadow."
"There was Erick," Kevin reminded John.
"No, Erick didn't come to Mayfair until William was sent away to school. 'Tis a pity they never learned to know one another. It would have made all of this easier in the long run, this handing down of the estate."
"It's a cruel method. Mayfair should go to the one best able to work it."
"Even that's not a proven case, Kevin. William's mettle has not been tested."
"Not yet. My claim will come as a shock to the new lord."
"Maybe, maybe not," John said wisely. "Give it a chance. Now stop driving your mother wild with worry and anxiety. You were completely happy and content with your work and the horses until we told you. Look on this as a chance of fortune, a hand of cards."
"Ignorance is bliss." But the irony of his voice was cut with a fine edge of humor.
"Indeed it is, Kevin. Now back to bed with you. I heard Erick say that he's going to bring in the three-year-olds tomorrow. Are there any with promise?"
"Indeed." Enthusiasm had returned to Kevin's voice, and he sounded like the man Mary had grown to trust as her riding instructor.
Mary picked up the cat and scampered back across the courtyard before she was caught eavesdropping. Her head was reeling with everything she'd learned. Kevin might be William's half-brother! And William didn't have a clue. How would he react? And how would Erick react to such news?
The intricacies of the MacEachern trust were unknown to Mary, but she could see the potential complications. Legal as well as emotional. Although she'd never met William's father, it was strange to think of him having an affair with one of the servants. William's depiction of his father was of a cold man not given to bouts of temptation or emotion. Certainly not an affair with one of the maids.
She went to the kitchen and hurriedly put the kettle on for the tea. Familiar took a seat at the heavy oak table and began to lick his paws.
"You're a mighty sly puss," Mary said, remembering the way he'd grabbed her leg and practically dragged her to the barn.
"Meow." Familiar went back to his grooming.
"What did you find on the third floor?"
"Meow." Familiar stopped licking his foot. He shifted to a sitting position and looked around the kitchen. With a quick hop, he landed on the floor and went to the refrigerator.
"How about something to eat?" Mary asked as she poured the hot water and covered the pot to allow the tea to draw.
"Meow."
She obligingly opened the refrigerator door and motioned for Familiar to indicate his desire.
The cat sniffed the air and put his paw on a small covered dish near the bottom.
Lifting the dish out, Mary uncovered it. "Custard." She realized she was starving. She'd had nothing to eat, nor had William, except for one or two of the pecan biscuits Abby had brought with the tea.
"Good idea." She put a portion on a plate for the cat and then divided the rest into three glass dessert dishes for herself, William, and Dr. Sloan. It had been a long night for all of them.
She left Familiar munching away and returned to the library. Knocking lightly, she entered to find William agreeing to a series of tests at the local hospital. The idea made her blood run cold, but it also gave her a ray of hope. Medical experts could certainly find out what was happening with William. Once he was diagnosed, then surely a cure could be found. Or a priest called to exorcise his demons!
She served the custard and the tea to the thanks of both William and the doctor.
"I'll bid you good-night," Dr. Sloan said soon after, snapping his bag shut. "I'll see you Monday at the hospital." He stood. "If there are any more of these incidents, I'll expect to see you before then."
"You will," Mary assured him. "William is hardheaded, but this time I believe he sees how necessary it is to clear up this matter."
"I do," William said. "Mary and I plan to marry. The sooner all of this is over, the sooner we can begin to make our plans."
"Now that's a smart decision."
Mary walked the doctor to the front door. She was bursting to tell William what she'd heard at the barn, but it really wasn't her place. If Kevin was his half-brother, she did not need to interfere. They would have to work out their own relationship, and much of that would be determined by Kevin when he chose to tell William. She could only keep her fingers crossed that both men would act with compassion toward one another.
Familiar suddenly reappeared at her side as she went back to the library. To her astonishment, William was sound asleep in front of the fire. He'd lain down o
n the sofa and pulled the blankets over him. His face registered a weariness that made Mary sit beside him a moment and examine his features.
With his clean jaw and high cheekbones, he was a handsome man. She could see the blood of his ancestors in him. Anyone looking at the gallery of MacEachern paintings in the hallways of Mayfair could find more than a dozen likenesses of her fiancé. The MacEachern genes were strong, and they were undeniable between William and Slaytor.
And Kevin? His hair was lighter, his skin more olive and his eyes brown rather than gray. But his hair was thick, his face square and his eyes wide-spaced and kind. He could be a MacEachern.
He also could not.
"Heaven help you," she whispered to William as she stroked his face lightly. "I'll leave you here to sleep." There seemed no reason to wake him. He was exhausted. She looked around, but there was no place where she could comfortably rest. He was home, in Mayfair. He'd be fine if she left him to go to her room and catch a few hours herself.
She stood, tucking her hand into the pocket of her jeans as she did so. She felt the ring, forgotten in the madness of the night. Pulling it out into the light, she was dazzled once again by the brilliance of the emerald and the setting of the ring.
Acting as Slaytor MacEachern, William had left the ring at her door. She'd give it back to him the next day. It was a family heirloom, and one William should keep until they were well and truly wed.
"Come along, Familiar," she said, motioning the cat to follow her. "It's time for bed."
Together they made it up the stairs. On a hunch, Mary decided to check on Sophie. Her friend had slept through the harrowing evening, and it was just as well.
Tapping lightly on the door, she called Sophie's name.
When there was no answer, she tapped harder. Worried, Mary tried the door. It opened readily, and she stepped into the suite her friend had chosen.
At first she thought the bed was empty, but on second glance, she saw a poorly defined lump beneath the thick covers.
Fear Familiar Bundle Page 79