Eternity
Page 8
Beyond a cursory cleaning of the room she’d taken up residence in, she hadn’t even scratched the surface of her ‘apartment’, which included a large bedroom and a small sitting room.
As tired as she was from having worked all day in the lower regions, Emily decided to at least sweep the dust and cobwebs from the two rooms before settling for the night. That way, she could tackle scrubbing down the walls, floor and ceiling first thing in the morning instead of wearing herself out sweeping first. It would also give the room longer to dry out.
She discovered quickly enough that there was far more dust than she’d expected. Within only a few minutes she was choking on the clouds she’d stirred up. There weren’t any screens on the windows, but then she hadn’t noticed that there was a real problem with insects--not mosquitoes at any rate.
Moving to the windows, she opened both as wide as she could and went back to her task. She’d been listening absently to an odd fluttering sound and a squeaking noise for several moments before it occurred to her that it wasn’t creaking wood, or hinges, or, in fact, anything of a non-threatening nature. The hair on her arms and neck stood up as she stopped abruptly and looked around.
She smiled when she saw the small animal fluttering about the ceiling. "Silly thing! You flew in the window. You can go out the same way."
He appeared to have forgotten how he’d gotten in, however, flying round and round the upper part of the room, almost clipping the light dangling from the cord in the center, dipping low, then darting upward again.
The moment he lit, she discovered it wasn’t, as she’d thought, a small bird. It was a bat.
She screamed when it turned to look at her and bared its teeth, hissing. After looking wildly around for a weapon, she grabbed the broom up and swung at it, screaming again when it took flight and began to circle the room again.
"Shoo! Out!"
Instead of heading toward the window, it dove toward her.
"Nigel!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, swinging the broom wildly as the thing zipped around her. "Nigel! There’s a bat in my room!"
When it dove at her again, she ducked, running in circles in a blind panic. She stopped when she discovered she’d run toward the windows instead of the door. Before she could decide whether to make a run for the door or not, the thing dove for her again.
Catching the broom up in her hands in a batter’s stance, she waited until it whizzed past her and swung for all she was worth. She caught it with the straw end of the broom, swatting it in the general direction of the window. To her relief, she managed to bat it out one of the open windows. Dropping the broom, she raced to the window and quickly closed it, then ran to the other windows and closed them, as well.
Below, she heard the resounding thud of the heavy oak door that fronted the castle as it was slammed open and then closed again. Next, she heard the heavy, smacking sound of bare feet as Nigel stalked across the great hall and started up the stairs.
Grabbing up the broom, Emily went to meet him.
"Nigel! There was a bat in my room. I think it was rabid! It hissed at me!" she gasped the moment she saw him, fighting the urge to burst into tears now that the fright was behind her.
It was several moments before she realized he was looking distinctly displeased. Without a word, he snatched the broom from her hands and broke it over his knee, tossing the two pieces over his shoulder.
Emily gaped at him. "You broke my broom!"
"Aye!" he snarled.
Anger surged through her. She plunked her hands on her hips. "I need my broom! What did you break it for? What if that thing gets in the house again? I’m telling you, I’m almost a hundred percent certain that thing’s rabid! It looked straight at me and bared its teeth at me and hissed. And then, it attacked me!"
He glared back at her. "He was na’ rabid and I am a hundred percent certain he’ll na’ be stupid enough ta try flyin’ in yer window again, woman!" he growled. With that, he stalked down the hall to his room and slammed the door behind him.
Emily stared at the reverberating door for several moments and finally turned to look at her broken broom. After several moments, she gathered it up and trudged back to her own room.
"Ass," she muttered as she passed his door. "I had to fight the damned thing off by myself. You’d think he could at least give me a reassuring hug or something! But what does he do? Snarl at me and break my damned broom. Men! They’re always such sullen beasts and completely useless in a crisis!"
* * * *
Emily saw the horse and rider out of the corner of her eye as she passed the gates leading up to Castle MacKissack. Slamming on the brakes, she screamed as the rider, laughing like a madman, urged his horse into a leap that just cleared the hood of the car as the horse and rider soared majestically over the drive and car, landing on the other side and racing away at a gallop.
Her heart was still hammering unpleasantly in her chest as she watched the two disappear over a rise, Nigel MacKissack’s black hair and tartan flying behind him like flags in the wind.
"Lunatic!" she yelled shakily, frightened into anger.
Finally, gathering herself, she depressed the gas pedal and proceeded to the castle. He was waiting for her when she arrived, walking the horse now, patting it’s neck appreciatively.
Still more than a little shaky, Emily glared at him as she emerged from the car. "You scared the hell out of me!"
Nigel lifted his dark brows at her. "Ye were in no danger. I would na’ have allowed harm ta come ta ye."
Emily ground her teeth. "I wasn’t worried about me!" she snapped, realizing belatedly that she could certainly have been injured if she had hit him and the horse, but then she could scarcely get any angrier than she was already.
He shrugged and finally grinned. "I was na’ in any danger either. Samson here’s a wee bit fresh. I’ve a notion he thought ta ditch his rider when he saw the car, but he came ta hand well enough. He’s nae Caesar, but he’ll do."
Emily shook her head. "The horse ran away with you?" She frowned. "Where did you get him, anyway? And what do you want with a horse?"
He prodded the horse with his knees, guiding it up to her, and reached down. Emily sidled away.
"Come. I’ll give ye a ride on him."
"No, thanks. I don’t like horses. I especially don’t like wild things like that beast you’re riding."
He frowned, fixing her with a hard look that seemed to go right through her. Emily felt her resolution wavering. Looping the reins around the pommel, he leaned down, grasped her beneath her arms and hauled her onto the saddle before him.
Despite the strange lethargy that had come over her, Emily felt fear. She clutched at him, wrapping her arms tightly around him and burying her face against his chest. He pushed her slightly away and tipped her chin up. "I’ll na’ allow you ta come ta harm, lass."
Strangely enough, the words reassured her. A calm seemed to settle over her and she leaned against him more trustingly as he grasped the reins and wheeled the horse about.
"I really need to unload the car," Emily protested a little weakly. "And pay the workers."
"I’ll handle the workers."
Emily frowned, vaguely disturbed by that comment, but the reason eluded her. Instead, she found herself caught up in the exhilaration of racing across the open field on the back of the horse with the wind ruffling her hair and singing in her ears, the heat and strength of Nigel’s body pressed tightly against her. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine herself as a medieval lady, being borne away on the steed of her knight into the happily ever after of a fairy tale princess.
After a time, Nigel reined the horse to a slower gait, then to a brisk trot and finally to a walk. Dismounting beneath the shade of a tree, he left the spent horse to graze and carried her to the grassy knoll beneath the spreading limbs. Without a word, he lay her upon the ground and covered her body with his own, making love to her with a slow thoroughness that built the passion within her to a fever pitc
h before he gave her the release she craved.
The sun was setting when they made their way back to the castle. Reining the horse to a stop before the wide entrance door, Nigel caught her cheek in his hand and tilted her head back for a lingering kiss. "I hunger for ye, lass. I canna seem ta get enough of ye," he murmured.
The words sent a shaft of heated pleasure through Emily. To her disappointment, however, he released her and helped her down from the horse.
"Wait for me in our room."
Emily watched him as he turned the horse and disappeared into the gathering gloom, feeling the warm glow slowly dissipate and anger and resentment begin to simmer in its place. She felt almost like a sleepwalker coming awake in a place far removed from where she’d lain her head to sleep.
Shivering, she glanced around. The workers had gone home. Vaguely, she recalled that Nigel had said that he would ‘handle’ the workers. Her irritation grew.
They were her workers. She’d hired them. How dare he appropriate them!
How dare he pat her on the head and tell her to go await him in the bed for his pleasure!
Grinding her teeth, she stalked to the car and began to unload it. Darkness caught her before she’d finished and, reluctantly, she gave up on unloading until she had daylight to see.
She’d been too angry about his highhanded manner to think much beyond that, but as she’d worn off her anger lugging her supplies inside it occurred to her to wonder where he’d gotten the horse, and how he’d paid for it.
Glancing upward, she felt her heart plummet to her toes. She’d been counting on that money to get her out of the fix she was in financially. Abandoning her supplies in the hall, she raced up the stairs, arriving in the master suite breathless. Pulling the finial from the post where she’d hidden her stash, she peered down at it. From what she could see, the gold looked untouched.
It comforted her somewhat, but she was still uneasy, wishing now that she’d moved the gold when she’d taken up residence in the other room. She’d had plenty of opportunities to do so, but the castle was overrun with workmen and she hadn’t liked the idea of taking the gold from such an ideal hiding place and risking having it stolen from a less desirable one.
That horse had to have cost a pretty penny, though, and now that she thought on it, Nigel had been wearing new clothes, as well. He’d gotten money from somewhere.
Or he’d used his vampire powers and stolen the goods.
Dismissing it for the moment, she went to her own room and collected one of her suitcases. When she returned, she dropped it on the floor beside the bed and began fishing coins out. When she’d gotten all she could, she zipped the suitcase up and dragged it down the hall to her own suite.
Nigel still hadn’t returned, but he’d promised to do so.
Creeping back down the stairs, she went into the kitchen and fixed herself a quick meal, then dashed up the stairs again and barricaded herself into her own suite, trying not to think about what the vampire, Nigel MacKissack, was doing while she consumed her own supper.
When she’d finished eating, she worked on setting the room to rights until weariness began to weigh upon her and the urge to seek her rest. She’d heard nothing to indicate that Nigel had returned. After a brief debate, she finally decided to risk a shower since she was certain she wasn’t going to be able to sleep without one.
The bathroom was dark and creepy, like the rest of the castle. There was nothing about it to encourage her to linger and she was uneasy anyway that Nigel would return and catch her unawares. That being the case, she confined her efforts to a simple soap down and rinse, then scurried back to her room and bolted the door.
After she’d dressed for bed, she spent another fifteen or twenty minutes sealing every crevice he might use to enter her room and finally turned off the light and climbed wearily into her bed.
She roused some time later as she felt two strong arms scoop her from the bed. Drowsily, she looked up with little surprise to discover Nigel had come to collect her. She murmured a protest, which he ignored, striding down the hall with her, settling her in his bed and making love to her until she was delirious with passion.
She woke the following morning feeling deliciously sated, but also firmly resolved to do something about the situation she’d found herself in. There had to be some way to keep Nigel’s fingers out of the cookie jar, and she meant to find it!
Chapter Twelve
The workers were standing around outside when she went downstairs the following morning. Giving them the task of unloading the car, she went to grab a quick breakfast. They’d finished by the time she returned and, since she hadn’t had the chance to do so earlier, she went over what they’d done the week before.
It didn’t seem to her that they’d accomplished as much as they should have considering the length of time they’d spent on it. When she questioned them about it, they explained that her ‘man’ had set them to other tasks while she was away from the castle. She didn’t correct their assumption that he was her man, though it irritated her, both the fact that they assumed he was head of the household and his arbitrary countermanding of her orders.
Dismissing it for the moment, she interviewed them to see if any of them had any particular areas of expertise. To her surprise and relief, she discovered that Mr. MacGregor had sent her men skilled in those things she most particularly needed. Setting them the task of working up a list of what they needed to replace the antiquated wiring and plumbing and figuring mortar and stone to fix the castle itself, she went to examine the furniture they’d moved.
The craftsmanship of the furniture spoke for itself. Despite the age of the pieces, despite the fact that nothing had been cared for as it should have been, the majority of the pieces looked as if they could be repaired. Collecting the books she’d bought on antique restoration, she found herself a comfortable spot and settled down to reading and compiling a list. By the time the workmen returned with their own lists, she felt like she had what she needed to get started and, after comparing their list with the materials she’d already bought, she set them to work and went off to order more supplies.
After Emily had ordered the supplies the workmen needed, it occurred to her that she might find some answers to her other questions in books and she stopped by the local book shop. They had a number of novels about vampires, but only one book of mythology and the occult. She wasn’t certain whether the novels would be of any use to her or not, but she decided to buy them, as well.
She was feeling rather pleased with herself when she reached the castle once more, until she saw Nigel astride his horse, gesturing to the workmen, who were nodding and gesturing in turn. Grinding her teeth, Emily climbed out of the car and went over to see what they were doing.
"Are we working on a new project?" she asked with exquisite politeness.
"Aye. The barn and stables for my horses," Nigel responded absently.
"Horses? You have more than one?" Emily gasped, surprised out of her outrage that he’d commandeered her workmen again.
"Na’ yet," Nigel said, dismounting and tossing the reins to one of the men as if he was a stable hand. "I mean ta acquire a dozen or so."
"Horses?"
"Aye."
Emily blinked up at him. "What for?"
He gave her a look, as if she was the one who was crazy! "Ta ride, lass," he said off handedly and looped his arm through hers, guiding her toward the castle. "And for the carriages."
"Carriages?" Emily said faintly. "What are you going to do with a carriage?"
"I’ll need transportation now and again."
"Uh … people don’t drive around in carriages anymore."
He lifted his brows. "An’ what’s that you dash about in, then?"
"The car? It’s not a carriage. It has an engine."
He was silent for several moments, obviously displeased about something. "I suppose I’ll hae ta learn ta drive one, but I’m na’ anxious. I had Sean show me the other day when he took me into
town, but my lack of skill scared him nigh as badly as tha carriage scared me."
Emily bit her lip to contain a smile. It was on the tip of her tongue to offer to teach him, but she hardly thought it was a good idea to fraternize with him when her goal was to oust him from her property. Resolutely, she disentangled herself from his grasp as they reached the main entrance to the castle and then put a little distance between them. "I didn’t want to say anything in front of the men, but I hired them to repair the castle. I don’t appreciate you dragging them off to do something else after I’ve told them what I want them to work on."
His brows rose. A flicker of amusement crept into his eyes. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned against the door frame. "I thought we’d settled the matter of who was master here."
Emily’s eyes narrowed. She plunked her hands on her hips. "We haven’t settled anything! Don’t think for one moment that you’ve won just because you’ve been using that voodoo bullshit on me, because you haven’t! This is my castle and those are my workmen! And I hired them to repair the castle, not to start building something else!"
"Then we’re in agreement."
Emily gaped at him. "We are?"
"Aye. The castle’s in sore need of repairs an’ tha’s a fact. I’ll tell them ta leave off on the stable awhile an’ repair the castle first."
"You’ll tell…." Emily compressed her lips in impotent fury. Whirling, she stalked back to the car and started unloading the supplies she’d bought.
She didn’t realize he’d followed her until he bellowed for the men. They came trotting up at once, grabbed her parcels and started carrying them inside. Favoring Nigel with an irritated glare, she grabbed her books and headed inside.
.
Chapter Thirteen
The garlic positively reeked. Inside of ten minutes, Emily had a blinding headache from the fumes and her eyes were watering. The book had been very specific, though. Garlic warded off vampires. Tonight, she intended to sleep in her own bed, undisturbed and free from the anxiety that Nigel would simply come for her when it pleased him.