The Pursuit

by Johanna Lindsey

  “I’m the one asking now, no’ Charlie,” Malcolm cut in this time.

  “Verra well. He asked how I could allow Linc tae have her. The better question is, How can I think o’ denying her what her heart insists she have?”

  “Ye canna prove tae me that she loves him that much,” Charles said, his tone still full of animosity. “Women are too fickle.”

  “Are ye saying Kimberly is fickle in what she feels for Lachlan?”

  “Kimber’s an exception,” Charles mumbled.

  “Kimber raised Meli.”

  “I hate tae break up this fascinating diatribe o’ nonsense,” Malcolm interrupted yet again. “But what’s Meli screaming aboot?”

  The two younger brothers scanned the lake and pier again. Lincoln, as they’d figured would happen, had fallen into the water, his boat, though still upright, bobbing beside him. Melissa, on the edge of the pier, was screaming her heart out. Though they still couldn’t hear what she was saying from their distance, it was a safe guess that she was calling for help.

  “She thinks he’s drowning,” Ian said.

  “We can hope.”

  “That isna funny, Charles. And we’d better go calm her down. I dinna think she can see that he’s fine and trying tae get back in the boat. The sun glare on the lake is too strong o’er there where she’s standing. All she might be able tae see is an empty boat.”

  “He’ll be back in the boat afore we have a chance tae reach her,” Malcolm said.

  “Still, it will ease her mind if she sees us coming tae help.”

  “She’s no’ going tae be looking this way tae see it. She’s jumped in.”

  “I’ll be damned,” Ian said, sitting back down in disbelief. “She’s swimming oot tae save him herself. She’s terrified o’ that lake, yet she loves him enough tae enter it for him. Are ye paying attention, Charlie? Ye wanted proof, and now ye have it.”

  Charles didn’t remark on that, said instead, “She just sank.”

  Ian shot back to his feet, but he couldn’t see Meli in the water anymore either. “She’s swimming underneath,” he said in a panic, trying to convince himself. “She mun be.”

  “Nae, she sank, I tell you, like something pulled her under.”

  Ian didn’t hear the last. He was already sprinting down the shore toward the pier, following Malcolm, who had started ahead of him. But neither of them had a chance of getting there in time. They were both too far away.

  Forty-Eight

  KREGORA was silent. No laughter, none of the usual banter among the servants. All speech had reverted to whispers. No one wanted to disturb the mournful quiet.

  Lachlan sat in a corner of his daughter’s room, his head in his hands. His cheeks were damp. Every few moments another tear would roll down to keep them that way. He’d never felt so helpless in his life. He’d been unable to help his daughter. And he’d been unable to help his wife, who was breaking his heart in her efforts to bring Melissa back to them.

  Kimberly was kneeling by Melissa’s bed, talking to her as if she could hear her. Melissa’s eyes were open, but there was nothing behind them. They were vacant, unseeing.

  Kimberly gave up for the moment, trying to reach Melissa, and came over to cry in Lachlan’s lap. Finally, something he could do for her. But her sobs were ripping him apart. He couldn’t bear it, her being in this much emotional pain.

  “Her mind is gone. Her eyes are open, but she doesn’t hear me!”

  “The doctor said she can recover.” He’d also said she might not, but he’d told only Lachlan that part.

  “It was too much fear. She’s run away from it and won’t come back. It was all her nightmares combined! Blast that lake. We should have drained it.”

  “Nae, we should have put her back in it when she first got frightened of it, instead of being soft and just keeping her away from it.”

  Lincoln had saved her. He’d been the only one close enough to do so, able to swim to her and find her under the water before her uncles had reached them to help. He’d pulled her to shore. They’d thought she was dead. She hadn’t been breathing. But then the water had spilled out of her lungs. Her eyes had opened at the same time, and they hadn’t closed since. But she wasn’t really there, wasn’t seeing anything. It was as if she were still unconscious.

  The doctor mentioned shock, but he had no real experience with it to suggest how to get rid of it. He had only a few names of other doctors who might know more, though he didn’t seem very hopeful in that regard. He’d just told them to keep her warm, keep her comfortable, that there was nothing else they could do. But she wasn’t really awake to be cared for, to eat. If she didn’t come out of it, she could waste away….

  They didn’t hear the knock on the door. Lincoln finally just opened it, stood there undecided whether to try to gain the attention of Melissa’s parents. He probably looked as distraught as they did. He’d been told what the doctor had to say. He was numb. It was too much to comprehend, that Melissa might not recover—and unacceptable. Nor had he understood what the problem was, or why she’d retreated into herself, why they were so frightened for her.

  Her uncles, waiting outside her room with him, explained about her fear of the lake and why she never went in it. A lake monster. Something children would think of, but for her it was a thought she’d never let go of. For her it was real. If she entered the lake, she’d surely die. That she’d done so for him had them amazed, and a few of them were reassessing their opinions of him.

  As the hours passed in their vigil and he seemed to be ignoring them, her uncles thought he couldn’t hear them as they were whispering among themselves. But he’d caught drifts of what they were discussing—him, as usual.

  “She really does love him.”

  “She’s always been a sensible lass. She mun see something in him that we dinna see.”

  “She didna love him tae begin wi’, but there was something aboot that first meeting that had them both knowing they wanted tae marry. She was sure o’ it. He came the verra next day to request permission tae court her. It wasna love yet, it wasna just attraction. What does that tell ye, then? They knew—be it fate or some unexplained bond—they knew they were destined for each other.”

  “As if he hadna been sent tae England, they’d hae met and courted normal?”

  “Aye, exactly. The bond was meant tae be. It was just late in catching up tae them.”

  Lincoln didn’t hold much hope that they’d remember any of those words after Melissa was recovered. And she would recover. If he had any doubt of that, he’d probably be out of his mind already.

  “Can I see her?” he asked Lachlan. “Please.”

  The older man nodded but made no move to leave. After a moment more, Lincoln added, “Alone?”

  It was nearly a full minute before Lachlan nodded again. He stood up, carefully set his wife on her feet, and, with an arm around her, led her out of the room. She was too distraught to notice. The door even closed behind them. Lincoln hadn’t expected quite that much privacy.

  Melissa had no color. It wasn’t the low lighting in the room. She really had no color at all on her face, was as deathly pale as…

  Her wet clothes had been changed and a plain white nightgown put on her, long-sleeved, high-necked, but it appeared to be comfortable, the material very soft. Her hair was dry now, most of it spread out on the pillow under her, though one dark auburn lock curled across the blue cover, which was drawn up nearly to her neck.

  She was so beautiful, even in her paleness. That her eyes were open was disconcerting. It had led him to believe she was fine, merely shaken up, when he’d carried her back to the castle. But they were vacant, unseeing…lifeless.

  He sat on the edge of her bed. One of her arms was outside the cover. He took her hand, brought her palm to his cheek, placed it there, held it there. It was cold, her fingers stiff. If he couldn’t see the very slight movement of her chest as she breathed shallowly, he’d think she was dead. It sent a cold chill through
his body.

  “Melissa?” No reaction. “I’m going to assume that you can hear me, so I will tell you some things you will find of interest. Your dragon is dead.”

  Still no reaction. He’d honestly thought that would do it, had been counting on it. It was the reason her mind had retreated. Perhaps a little more elaboration.

  “I killed him myself—didn’t trust anyone else to do it right. It wasn’t easy, but I sent him to the bottom of the lake, where he’ll rot and never bother you again. Did you hear that, Meli? You’re safe now. Did you really think I’d let a mere dragon hurt you?”

  Still no movement, not even a blink. She might not be hiding from the dragon, as most of them assumed. The dragon was something she’d apparently lived with for a very long time. She might simply not have a good enough reason to return. He could give her at least one.

  “Meli, it’s time to come back to us so we can marry. Your parents won’t object anymore.” That wasn’t positive enough. “I have their blessing now. We can be wed just as soon as you’re ready.”

  Her finger twitched by his temple. His heart leaped with excitement but just as quickly plummeted. Her eyes were still staring at the ceiling, empty. A muscle reaction that hadn’t been voluntary. It was killing him, but he controlled his disappointment.

  He brought her palm lower to kiss the center of it. Her hand had warmed considerably next to his skin.

  “Really?”

  His eyes flew to hers. Her voice had been weak, scratchy, but she was looking at him. She’d come back. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, felt like doing both, shouted with joy instead.

  “Yes!”

  The door flew open behind him. Half her family fell into the room. They’d had their ears stuck to the door eavesdropping, and they hadn’t counted on Lachlan’s opening it immediately at Lincoln’s shout.

  While Kimberly rushed over and collapsed on Melissa in tears of relief, Lachlan pulled Lincoln aside to ask, “How did ye do it?”

  “I lied to her,” Lincoln said in a tone completely lacking any apology for doing so. “I told her we had your blessings to marry.”

  Lachlan took a moment to digest that before he burst out laughing. “’Twas no lie, lad. I needed nothing more tae convince me than her entering that lake—for ye. I canna deny that kind o’ love any longer. Come what may, m’daughter needs ye tae be complete.”

  Lincoln was grateful to hear that at last, but it simply paled in comparison to his relief that Melissa was back among them, her mind intact. He hadn’t been willing to admit that she might not recover, had refused to even consider it, yet the possibility had been there nonetheless.

  He squeezed in between those gathered around Melissa’s bed now, in time to hear Adam ask, “What’s wrong with yer voice, lass?”

  “I mun have screamed tae much calling for help. ’Tis a wee bit sore, is all. I could use some water, though.”

  “I think ye’ve had enough water for one day,” Johnny said meaningfully. “How aboot a nice bracing shot o’ whiskey instead, eh?”

  “Your ears are due for a boxing, Johnny,” Kimberly told her brother. “Go tell cook some hon-eyed tea is needed. That will sooth the scratchiness.”

  He left reluctantly but found a servant just outside to relay the order to, and he was back in a moment announcing, “The non bracing stuff is on the way.”

  “Sae what happened?” Adam was asking. “Ye’re a good swimmer. Why did ye sink in the water?”

  Melissa blushed. It brought back any remaining color she’d still been missing, and then some.

  “I felt something brush against my leg. It was probably just my skirt, but that’s not what my mind was telling me. It brought all m’worst nightmares tae life, made them real. I’m guessing I fainted.”

  “The water is no’ a good place tae faint, blast it!” Ian Six complained.

  He’d probably aged a few years in his fear, running to reach Melissa and knowing he’d never make it in time. And then for her not to recover immediately…

  “I suppose not.” She grinned at him.

  “Ye think ’tis funny, then?”

  She reached for his hand to squeeze it. “I’m just sae relieved tae know the dragon doesna exist—or wasna paying attention tae notice us—that I’d be finding anything funny right now, aye.”

  “Ye still think he’s down there?” Ian Four chided her incredulously.

  “I know there’s no dragon. Logically, maturely, I know it. But the child in me refused tae e’er believe that. But nae, I was joking. I know he’s gone now. M’Linc put him tae rest once and for all.”

  Lachlan hadn’t been one of the ones with his ear against the door, so he asked, “And how did he do that?”

  “He said he killed him.”

  “Ye believe that?”

  “Aye.” Lachlan was frowning at her doubtfully. She smiled at him. “It’s all in what you want tae believe, Da. I will forever now have an image o’ the dragon spiraling downward in the water, dead, tae rest in peace on the bottom o’ the lake. E’en though I know he was ne’er there, the child in me is now sure o’ that, too.”

  Forty-Nine

  IT was very odd, to be among the MacFearsons and not have most of them scowling at him. It was even odder not to have even one of them scowling at him. Lincoln was finding the situation both unique and disconcerting, particularly since the issues they’d held against him hadn’t been resolved. Were they really going to let Melissa’s feelings take precedence over their fears, as seemed to be the case?

  A lot of the MacFearsons had returned to their own homes, now that Lachlan’s blessing had been announced to them all. But a good half of them were lingering at Kregora and probably would continue to do so until after the wedding. Because they still didn’t trust him? Or because they didn’t have wives or lovers to return to, and the atmosphere was livelier and more entertaining at Kregora?

  Lincoln made no remark about their change toward him, but it was as if he were already accepted into their family, just as they’d said would happen if he married their niece. They weren’t married yet, but with the MacGregor’s blessing it was as good as done in their eyes. Thus he was now one of them. Bah, the devil should be so lucky.

  His own grudges wouldn’t be as easily forgotten. At least, he had himself convinced of that. He was the one who’d taken the severe beatings back then, not them. He was the one who’d lost his best friend, not them. They had merely gotten rid of a nuisance, as they saw him. He’d lost his friend, his home—his mother.

  No, he was sure he could never forgive or forget any of that. Then he wasn’t so sure—after Dougall approached him a few days later.

  It was the first time he found himself completely alone with his old childhood friend. He’d been having a chat with Lachlan in the parlor prior to retiring for the night. Lachlan had apprised him of some of the plans Melissa and her mother were making for the wedding, before he went off to bed himself.

  Melissa had been ordered to stay in bed all of yesterday. Though she had come downstairs today, that little bit of exertion had quickly tired her. She was still in a weakened state from her near brush with death.

  Lachlan had sent her straight back to her bedroom when he noticed, to her great chagrin. So Lincoln wasn’t getting much chance to talk to her himself. The one time he’d been allowed into her room on the day of her near drowning was an exception her parents weren’t going to repeat—not until after they were married anyway.

  Lincoln was finishing up a warmed brandy before he retired himself. His cold had returned briefly yesterday, after his dunking in the lake. Now it was gone again. The brandy before bed was merely to make sure he went right to sleep so he got enough rest to keep it gone.

  Dougall showed up in the parlor moments after Lachlan left it, as if he’d been waiting around for just that to happen. He stopped there at the door, though, possibly having second thoughts about approaching. Lincoln could almost see his resolve bolster through, just before he continu
ed toward the fireplace where Lincoln was standing. Whatever was on his mind, he was quite determined about it.

  “I’m wondering if we can be friends again.” Dougall blurted it out, without any preamble.

  “No.”

  Dougall turned away, obviously disappointed. But then he turned back to ask, “I’m wondering if ye’ll change your mind someday?”

  “No.”

  Dougall sighed, turned away again. Lincoln wondered aloud, “Do you always believe everything you hear?”

  Dougall turned back once more, grinning widely now. “Ye were teasing me?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Och, ye’re as bad as ye e’er were. I ne’er knew when tae believe ye or not.”

  “Yes you did,” Lincoln replied. “You’re just out of practice.”

  “I wanted tae congratulate ye. There’s no lass finer than our Meli. Ye were luckier than ye know, the day she fell in love wi’ you.”

  “I came to that conclusion myself long ago.” Lincoln smiled. “Did you marry?”

  “Nae, only a few o’ m’brothers have. For m’self, I canna find a lass who’ll put up wi’ m’family—or me, for that matter—for more’n a few days,” Dougall added with a grin. “I’ve a son, though.”

  Lincoln’s brows shot up. “Taking after your father, then, are you?”

  “No’ really. I’m no’ e’en positive he’s mine, though I like tae think sae. He looks like me.”

  “What’s his mother have to say about it?” Lincoln asked him.

  “She denies it.”

  “But you doubt her? Why?”

  “Because she hates m’guts. And she was already wed when we—er—”

  Just a single brow rose this time. “Seducing married women, Dougi?”

  “Nae, I didna know she was already wed,” Dougall insisted, blushing slightly. “I make a habit o’ finding oot such things aforehand, when I’m interested in a lass. But she was the one started it. And that’s no’ bragging,” Dougall assured him with a chuckle. “She’s the only lass who e’er did give me the come-hither look. I dinna hae the striking looks most o’ m’brothers were blessed wi’, after all. I took more after m’mother than the MacFearson.”