by L. L. Muir
Rory shook the proffered hand of a stately gentleman waiting to greet them.
“Miss Carver, Mr….?” He drew the word out expectantly.
“This is Rory Patterson,” Lilly offered. “My…friend.”
“Happy to meet ye both.” He ushered them to two, roomy, leather-bound chairs before taking his seat behind the great desk. “I can’t tell ye how gratifying it is to finally meet ye, my dear. My condolences on yer grandmother’s passing. I didna have the privilege of meeting her, but we corresponded a few times and spoke at length on the telephone not long before her passing. She was very adamant about the disposition of her property.”
“Thank you,” Lilly replied softly. “I would have been here sooner, but I just learned about the inheritance. Your recent letter was the first I knew about it. A…mix up with the mail.”
Mr. McAdams nodded, a frown deepening the creases around his mouth. “I suspected as much, given your grandmother’s description of yer father’s ban on all things Scottish.”
Lilly merely nodded. The heightened color on her cheeks and the constant movement of her hands in her lap made her appear both embarrassed and anxious. “I’m not too late, am I?”
“Well, ye’ve sliced the bacon right down to the rind,” he laughed, “but ye’ve made it within the specified time frame, although…just.” He smiled reassuringly and reached for a thick file on the edge of his desk. “I believe ye’ll find yer grandmother’s American executor has everything in order. Ye’ve but to sign the pages I’ve tabbed and highlighted. I’ll also need proper identification, of course.” He spread the documents in front of Lilly. “These last few pages are a description of the property and a map.”
Rory noticed the slight tremble in Lilly’s fingers as she signed several pages. After she finished, she pulled a small packet and a folded paper from her bag and handed them to McAdams. “My U.S. driver’s license, my passport and my birth certificate. Certified, of course.”
“Thank you,” he said, setting them aside. “I’ll scan them in a moment.”
Rory had no idea what they were talking about. He only cared that Lilly had gotten here in time to take ownership of the property that seemed to mean so much to her. The glen was indeed, special. It had meant the world to him at one time, too. Before living there had become more painful than turning his back on it.
McAdams stamped a mark beside Lilly’s signature, signed it as well, and set it aside. “Now then,” he laid his hand atop another, smaller file. “I’m obliged to present this pending offer on the property. I believe your grandmother’s executor mentioned it in his letter? ’Twould be understandable, perhaps even beneficial for ye to sell, since ye live so far away. It can be difficult to manage property in a foreign country.”
Lilly had that determined set to her jaw that Rory was beginning to recognize. “My work is in New York, yes,” she replied, “but regardless of that, I won’t sell the property. Ever. I plan to spend as much time here as possible.” As if to emphasize her statement, she handed Rory the map. “In fact, I’m going there as soon as we’re finished here.”
“Perhaps once ye hear the offer?” McAdams’ bushy eyebrows rose a little higher in his kind face. “ ’Tis more than fair and would be a good foundation for a young woman beginning a career.”
“No.” Lilly’s reply was emphatic. “I don’t even care to hear it. I won’t sell at any price.”
McAdams’ jowls deepened with a smug grin as he pushed the folder aside. “As ye wish, then. Yer grandmother said as much. She mentioned ye’d inherited the McCallum stubborn streak.”
A slow, proud smile lit up Lilly’s face. “What a lovely thing to say.”
Her pleased sigh floated through the room, brightening what had been a dark beginning. Rory hoped her contentment proved to be an omen for her future. It would take a strong one to wipe out the threat she’d just received.
“Beggin’ yer pardon,” Rory blurted, drawing surprised looks from both Lilly and McAdams. “Could ye reveal who made the offer to purchase?”
Someone had Lilly in their sights and his ability to protect her was ticking away at an alarming rate. She should at least have the buyers name as a possible source of trouble.
McAdams shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’ve no knowledge of the actual buyer. The offer came from the office of a representative authorized to purchase on his client’s behalf. It’s completely anonymous.”
“I don’t care who it is.” Lilly gathered her copy of the papers with a flourish. “Nothing will entice me to sell.”
“Well, if for any reason, ye change yer mind, or need anything else from me, leave me a message. I’m afraid I’ll be out of town for the next several days, and the office will be closed, since my receptionist has decided to take the opportunity for a holiday. But I’ll return any calls as soon as I return.”
“Thank you,” Lilly replied. “I’ll keep that in mind, but I think we have everything we need, especially since I’m not selling.”
The look she gave Rory, told him she was speaking specifically about the threat. A shiver slithered up his spine and settled like a parasite at the base of his skull. He reached up, determined to rub it away.
In the few hours he’d spent with Lilly Carver, she’d been fraught with what he understood to be family drama and guilt. The pressure from her father appeared heavy-handed but not dangerous. But someone posed a threat to Lilly. She needed more than a guide, she needed a protector.
As soon as he had the thought, his chest burned with intense heat. Could Soni have left him on the moor for this very purpose? Or, was he allowing his overwhelming desire to help Lilly, to stay with her, cloud his judgement? Even if he gave his full two days of mortality to her and forfeited his only chance of moving on, ’twould no’ guarantee she’d be any safer when Soni came for him.
What would happen to Lilly then?
~ ~ ~
Lilly hadn’t done more than settle into her car and shut her door, before she squealed, pounding the steering wheel with both hands. “I can’t believe it’s mine!”
She turned to Rory as he folded his big frame into the seat beside her, her grin so broad it almost hurt. “I can’t wait to actually walk on it. Feel it. Know that I’m standing on the very soil my grandmother lived and loved on. Land that brought her so much happiness.” Her giddy high, deflated just a little. “In the beginning, at least. Her time there ended in sadness and fear. I’m going to change that, Rory. I’m going to bring happiness and life back to it. I’m not going to let fear or other people’s agendas, deter me.”
Rory looked at her in that penetrating way he had that made her feel as if he could see clear to her marrow.
“How will ye accomplish that? Ye’re going back to America, are ye no’?”
“Well,” she lifted a shoulder, “it may not happen overnight, but it will happen. I guarantee it.”
“Guarantee?”
His expression hadn’t changed but Lilly saw the doubt, clearly etched on his distractingly handsome face.
“Are you looking for proof?” Really! Why did he care if she made a go of it or not? He was investing a day – for which he’d be well paid. She was investing a lifetime. Along with her heart, and her dreams, and—
“I ken ye want this, Lilly, wi’ all yer heart. But ye canna control everything. Any more than yer father can.”
He might as well have tossed a bucket of cold water on her. She slumped back against the seat and stared out the window. “You really know how to deflate a good buzz, don’t you?”
“I dinna ken what ye—”
“Never mind.” She started the engine and pulled her sunglasses from her bag.
“ ’Tis no’ ye, I doubt, Lilly.” Rory’s voice was low and warm, almost a caress.
“What then?” She turned off the engine and shifted to face him. “What is it you don’t think I’m capable of?”
Rory scrubbed his forehead with the tips of his fingers, raked back his long, burnished hair an
d met her gaze, his sea-green eyes visibly troubled. “ ’Tis no’ what I think ye’re capable of, Lilly. ’Tis what everyone else is capable of that worries me.”
His words hit her in the chest, stealing her breath and ripping away her attempt to temporarily ignore the threat that had been delivered like a gift, nicely wrapped in a smelly, sloppy drunk. She’d wanted to revel in her victory; her defiance of her father’s strict code of behavior, and the promise she’d made in her heart to her seven-times great grandmother, to keep the land and bring joy back to a place that tragedy had decimated.
“Despite your obvious assumption, Rory, I’m not naive enough to dismiss that pointed warning.” She’d just wanted her moment of bliss before gathering all the obligations and ominous dark clouds back into her reality. It was her birthday, for heaven’s sake. Couldn’t she have had just those few moments of blind joy?
She looked at the mixture of sorrow and concern on Rory’s face and her anger faded. It wasn’t his fault her life was such a mess. He was only trying to help. He’d been hired to guide, not to fix, or care. But it was obvious he did, to some extent at least. Either that or he was simply the nicest guy that ever sported a kilt.
And, she had to admit, he sported it very well. She’d miss just looking at him. She’d miss his kindness and his compassion. But most of all she’d miss that intangible thread that seemed to connect them, as if they’d been walking toward each other all their lives. She thought he’d felt it, too, but perhaps that was just wishful thinking on her part. Another slip in judgement, no doubt.
Maybe Scotland was dangerous after all.
“You’re right, Rory. I can’t guarantee anything but my own intentions. I guess I let my enthusiasm cloud my judgement for a moment.”
She gathered her hopes and disappointments and tucked them away. Little more than half a day remained with her hired guide and she intended to take advantage of every minute. They both had timetables to meet, and lives to get back to.
Starting the engine, she nodded at the map. “Which way?”
CHAPTER FIVE
Rory stared out the window, overwhelmed by the changes in the landscape. ’Twas all so different, yet so familiar. This road had no’ existed when last he was here, nor the homes or buildings that dotted the roadside. But the mountains stood as they always had, sturdy beacons to guide him home. Fewer trees blanketed the hillsides and valleys but the rise and fall of the hills hadna changed.
At times, he was unsure if his directions to Lilly were correct, but there could be no mistake about the sensation building in his chest. The closer they got to his home, the more his newly-physical body reacted. His chest constricted and the intense beat of his heart pulsed in his neck and temples. He’d long ago drained the bottle of water Lilly had given him, to assuage his dry mouth.
Rory rubbed some of the tenseness from his neck, observing Lilly’s narrow-eyed focus on the road. ’Twas possible a bit of his anxiety was due to her irritation, even disappointment, in him, and he disliked how much it mattered.
Odd that he could miss her, even though she sat within reach. Something about her had changed. This controlled, distant, all-business lass must be the Lillian her father had cultivated, not his Lilly.
His Lilly? Where had that come from?
Something rang from inside her bag. Without taking her eyes off the road, she fished the thing out, swiped her thumb across it and propped it up on the wee platform separating their seats.
“Hello, Miles.” A hint of exasperation colored her voice.
“Lillian?” A man’s voice came from the tiny box.
“Unless something is really wrong, Miles, let me call you back later. This isn’t a good time.”
Rory’s gaze shot to her, then back at the talking device, which was…talking?
“Can’t I even wish my girl a happy birthday?”
To Rory, the voice sounded sulky instead of sincere and joyful, the way a birthday wish should be.
“Thank you.” Lilly’s reply sounded more instinctive than heartfelt.
But…what did the voice mean, his girl?
“You ruined my surprise, you know.” The man accused. “You have no idea how long ago I had to make the reservation at Renee’s to book the perfect table for your birthday. I never dreamed you’d actually run off to that wilderness on a childish whim.”
Lilly’s full lips flattened to a thin line. “I’m driving, Miles. Thanks for the birthday wish. I’ll call you later.”
“Wait!” he shouted. “When are you coming home? Your father is planning a dinner party for the announcement and it would be incredibly awkward if you weren’t there.”
“What announcement?”
“Our announcement. The engagement, of course.” Impatience sharpened his voice.
Lilly’s mouth actually hung open a few moments before she pressed two fingers to her temple.
“Miles! Has it occurred to either of you that you haven’t even bothered to ask me, nor have I agreed to anything?”
There was no mistaking the rise in Lilly’s voice on that last part. Rory knew he should pretend he wasn’t listening, but he couldn’t have stopped watching her face for the life of him.
“Fine,” Lilly said tightly. “Since we’re skipping all the steps, let me jump straight to my part. NO!”
Everything went silent. Lilly gripped the wheel as if it were the man’s throat. At least, it pleased Rory to imagine so.
“Really, Lillian.” The man’s voice held a tone of reprimand. “I don’t understand what’s gotten into you and neither does your father. You’ve allowed your weakness for sentiment to color your judgement regarding that ridiculous, misguided quest you’re on. It’s time to pull your head out of those musty old legends and come home. You’ve had your little show of defiance but it’s over. You’re a grown up now, Lillian. It’s time to act like one.”
Rory watched Lilly, afraid she’d forgotten to breathe. Her knuckles were white and the muscle in her jaw jumped in a steady rhythm.
“Lillian!” The voice demanded.
Finally, Lilly drew in a breath. A big one. She released it slowly and relaxed her death grip on the wheel.
“Lillian? Are you listening to me?”
She reached over and touched something on the device and much to Rory’s relief, Miles vanished. ’Twas Rory’s turn now, to hold his breath. There was naught he could say that could fix this. He could mention that Miles-whoever-he-is was a raving, pompous arse, but he was pretty sure Lilly already knew that, so he let the silence, and Lilly, be. She’d talk when she was ready. At least he hoped so.
Several silent, awkward minutes passed while Rory struggled to curb his tongue and curiosity. Finally, when he thought he could hold back no longer, she began talking as if he’d actually voiced the question uppermost on his mind.
“Miles Davenport has worked for my father for several years now. Dear old Dad has since decided that Miles would make the perfect husband for me. Handpicked, so to speak. In his warped opinion, my father decided that a marriage between us would be advantageous to the firm, which really means beneficial to my father. It never occurred to him that I might want, or deserve, a say in the matter.”
Unreasonable as it was, Rory felt a dark, heavy weight of disappointment settle around him. “Ye’re promised then?”
Lilly almost laughed - snorted to be more exact. “I don’t know what my father and Miles have promised each other, but I haven’t promised anyone anything.”
Her explanation didn’t ease any of the odd discomfort roiling around inside him. “But a man has claimed ye. And yer father has given his blessing.”
She tossed him a puzzled look. “So? This isn’t the dark ages, Rory. I get a say in the matter. Where have you been? Hasn’t women’s lib reached Scotland?”
“Women’s what?” He was having a hard time following her. “So ye aren’t promised then? Does this…Miles, know that?”
“Well, knowing and accepting aren’t necessarily the sam
e thing when it comes to Miles, or my father. They’re both convinced they can just manipulate until things fall into place the way they want them. The problem is, it most often works. But–” she lifted her chin in that stubbornly defiant way of hers, “they’re not going to manipulate me.”
Her talking device rang again, buzzing like a relentless barrier between them as if mocking her statement and pointedly reminding Rory that Lilly belonged in another world. Presumably to a man who would be alive and well in that world long after Soni had come for Rory. He and Lilly were more than just centuries apart. Soon, this suspended day in time would end and they’d each be required to move on to separate, predetermined destinies.
Miles’ voice calling her My Girl, reminded Rory he had no place in Lilly’s life save this single dwindling day. Despite his own reference to ‘his Lilly’, Rory somehow resented Miles doing the same.
In another world, another time, he would have earnestly fought for her, but there was naught to be done here. Miles and Lilly’s father waited for her to return to their world just as Soncerae waited for Rory to embrace his. He had a promise to fulfill. An oath to keep.
“There,” Lilly said, tossing the phone back in her bag. “I turned it off. The only birthday gift I want from Miles or my father, is complete silence. I’ll deal with them tomorrow. For what’s left of my birthday I want no arguments, no demands, and above all, no guilt.” She stabbed him with a look that appeared half determination and half pleading. “I want today to be joyful. Carefree. No reminders of duties to fill. No logic lessons, or reality checks. For this one day, let me wallow in my illusions. Agreed?”
She sounded so earnest. Desperate even. He yearned to not only fulfill her wish but to join her in that happy delusion. But…how did one go about giving joy? ’Twas sobering to realize he had no experience in such things. “Aye, lass,” he finally responded, turning toward the window.