Ghosts of Culloden Moor 04 - Payton

by L. L. Muir

  He laughed. “Nay, lass. Even family, sometimes, isn’t clan.”

  “I think it’s time I found my new clan.” She pulled her dangling purse around, dug out a pen and paper, and laid it on the table nearest Barbara. “I want her name.”

  The woman snarled. “And if I don’t give it to you?”

  “I don’t know. How about…you go in the pool.”

  The woman’s eyes popped wide. “You wouldn’t!”

  Grace pointed a thumb at Fitz. “I bet he’d do it if I asked. For free.” She then breathed deeply and seemed to regret her words. “Just let me go. You never wanted me anyway.”

  The woman looked past the lass to narrow her eyes at her husband. “I knew we’d be blackmailed, in the end.”

  Grace gasped in frustration. “Don’t you get it? I hate your money. I hate it. I don’t want it. I don’t want anything from you. And what I have needed from you, all these years, you didn’t have it to give.” She glanced at the paper. “But maybe she does. Please.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  As desperate as Grace was to get out of that country club and never look back, there was one thing she needed to do first.

  She retrieved her bag from the dressing room and took it into the restroom where she could lock the door. No one was going to step into her life, or into that bathroom, without her permission first.

  The ugly dress resisted like it knew its fate, but she got it peeled off and tossed aside. Then she pulled on her soft jeans and favorite t-shirt, which she’d packed like comfort food, knowing she’d need them. She considered flushing the dress, or just leaving it in a wad on the floor, but then she remembered her promise to humanity and pushed it to the bottom of the sack in the garbage can, since she doubted she’d find a barbeque pit between then and when she headed to the airport.

  She turned the lock and stopped with her hand on the door handle.

  On the other side of that door was the man to whom she had very nearly given her heart, even if it wouldn’t mean anything in a week or two. Even if he had other places he needed to go. Even if she was only a job to him.

  Only it hadn’t been his gig in the first place.

  She’d learned the truth. Her imposter was an imposter. Everyone in her life had turned out to be an imposter, but his betrayal was the one that caused the sharpest pain.

  What was she supposed to do now? She’d fallen in love with a guy who didn’t exist. Or did he? Had he lied to her every time he’d opened his mouth? Or did she even want to know?

  Her heart had just been reborn, or so it felt. And though it was new and might end up healthier than it ever had been, she also felt like it was small and vulnerable. And if anyone could hurt her now—maybe the only one who could hurt her now—was the guy she knew as Fitz.

  Was he out there? Because she felt like he had disappeared the second she’d answered the phone.

  Of course he was out there. All she had to do was pull on that door and confront him. But she couldn’t do it! If only the agency hadn’t called to apologize until after she was back in Eugene…

  The door moved toward her and Patience stepped inside.

  “You’re still here,” she said.

  “Don’t worry. I’m going.”

  “Wait. I mean… I should have said, I’m glad you’re still here.”

  Grace took a step back. “Why?”

  The girl shrugged. “Because, even if this is all messed up, and our parents are psycho—”

  “Your parents.”

  Patience nodded. “My parents. And they are.”

  She wasn’t seriously looking for Grace to disagree with her, was she?

  “I still feel like…you’re still my sister.”

  Grace shook her head. “I’m sure you’ll be relieved when you wake up tomorrow and realize you’re the only daughter. Of course, you’ve probably always felt that way.”

  “No! See? I don’t want to feel that way. I’ve been horrible to you. But now that I understand that it wasn’t your fault you were always upsetting them…”

  Grace rolled her eyes. “What? Now you can forgive me?”

  Patience shook her head, caught Grace in her arms, and forced a hug on her. “No. I want you to forgive me.”

  Grace tried to shrug her off. The girl finally let her go.

  “I know it’s going to take some time, but, when you can forgive me, I want you to call me. I want to stay…sisters.”

  “We’ll see.” It was the best she could promise at the moment. “I’ll call you after your honeymoon maybe.” She reached for the door, then paused again. This was her chance.

  “My advice? You and Shawn should consider getting an annulment. I mean, you both should marry someone you love. You should be excited to be in the same room, you know? And when he has his arms wrapped around you, well… Anyway…” She opened the door and fled before she started caring.

  Because the only thing she wanted, for the rest of the night, was not to care.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  She found him sitting next to the revolving door, watching out the window like he was expecting someone. There was no getting around it. She couldn’t just walk away and pretend that he hadn’t meant something to her, not after she’d just relived it all when trying to explain to her stupid former sister what real love was like.

  And though she felt mean at the moment, she wasn’t quite mean enough to hurt the guy. In fact, she was probably just mourning the guy she’d fallen for and it seemed like the imposter was the one who was responsible.

  He stood when he saw her and smiled as she came near.

  She held her bag over her shoulder and kept her elbow poking out between them, keeping him at a distance.

  Quick and painless.

  “Look. The talent agency called and apologized that they hadn’t been able to find anyone who could pull off a Scottish accent. They had been trying to call me since yesterday, but my phone has been off, so…”

  His head snapped back, then he nodded slowly. He understood he’d been busted, and though she didn’t see him take a step, it felt like he’d backed away.

  “I’d like to thank you, though. I mean, your timing was great, right?”

  His smile was forced. “Aye, it was.”

  She lifted her shoulders and made a face. “And if you want, I mean, I’d be happy to pay you what I was going to pay the other guy. After all, you earned it. And a bonus, you know, for that therapy you’re going to need.”

  He nodded. “Very generous, indeed. But I have no need of it, truly.”

  She nodded. “Well, okay then.” She stepped around him, then faced him as she walked backward. “I’ve got an early flight tomorrow, so…” She pointed at the door.

  “I shall walk ye to yer car.”

  The cab was there, waiting. The sun was gone and little remained of the sunset. Only a few steaks of pink and purple edged the west horizon.

  The imposter opened the car door. She tossed in her bag and climbed in after it. He closed the door gently and leaned in the open window. With the string lights and marquee behind him, his face was in shadow and he looked like a Highlander straight from the history books. Or maybe…a ghost.

  Her heart squeezed.

  “Fare thee well, lass,” he said quietly.

  Her insides melted at the lilt of his brogue and the way he said lass. And two stories that had been floating around in her head all day suddenly combined and became so much more than just clouds. But she had no time to figure out what her heart was trying to tell her.

  Desperate, she scooted back toward him. “Look.” She wanted to reach out to him so badly. She had to sit on her hands just to think straight. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

  “Not at all.” The headlights of another car flashed across his face and revealed his smile—still forced, still sad—and it was killing her.

  “Would you tell me how your sisters died?”

  The jerk of his head proved she’d managed to surprise him. “T
he truth?”

  “The truth.”

  “And yer not half-asleep, nor half drunk?”

  She bit her lip and shook her head.

  He looked away for a second, then sighed and looked back. “I canna be certain of it, mind. But I must hope they died of old age.” He quickly straightened away from the window, knocked on the roof, and the cab started moving.

  Younger sisters. Died of old age? Then he would have to be old too, but he wasn’t! If he was telling the truth, which he couldn’t have been, he was either a real-life vampire or…

  “One of the ghosties he told ye about?” Grace jumped at the sound of the voice beside her. A young girl sat there, and she was positive no one had been in the cab when she’d climbed inside, even though she’d been distracted.

  “Where did you come from?”

  The girl laughed. “Why, from Scotland, where else? Were ye sleepin’ then, when Fitz got to the part about the young witch?”

  “Soncerae!”

  “The same.” The girl seemed pleased and smiled. “Now, what do ye suppose we’re going to do about Fitzjames Arthur Payton?”

  “Do? What can I do? If he’s one of those ghosts he was talking about, then he doesn’t get to stay.”

  The girl bit her lip and gave Grace a wink. Then she tapped on the Plexiglas behind the cabbie and got his attention.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Fitzjames Arthur Payton was not at the country club. The doorman said the Scottish gentleman had crossed the street and started walking north, so Grace and her new friend got back in the cab and started searching.

  They found him in a park under a flood light, sitting sideways on a metal bench with his feet up, furiously plucking things from his wool socks. His boots sat beside him with laces dangling.

  He cursed as they approached and Soncerae giggled.

  “It’s not really funny,” Grace said, and hurried to the bench to help the poor guy. “I warned you about the fire ants.”

  “So ye did.” Then he muttered something she didn’t understand.

  The witch peeked over her shoulder. “Did ye say something, there Fitz? Have ye had enough of mortality then? Ye’d like to be taken straight away? Before the mighty ants finish ye off?”

  “I didna say that,” he grumbled, still plucking insects and tossing them at the bush behind him.

  “Well, ye didna say it very loud, is all.”

  He suddenly roared and shucked off the socks and tossed them in the bushes too. Then he rested his arms on top of his knees and glared at Soncerae while he wiggled his toes.

  Grace shook her head and tried to keep a straight face. “How are you going to get out of the park?”

  He nodded at the witch. “Ask her.” Then he bit his lips together and wouldn’t look at either of them.

  The girl put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes dramatically for Grace’s benefit. Then she tilted her head at Fitz. “That’s it then? Ye’ve done it?”

  He nodded sharply, once.

  “Oh, ye think so?”

  His head whipped around and he narrowed his eyes. “No thanks to ye, Soni, I figured it out on my own. I helped her escape her ghastly clan.” He picked up his boots and knocked them together over the grass, upside down.

  “Heroic, was it?” Soncerae looked at Grace expectantly.

  “Heroic?”

  “Aye, it must have been heroic. Did ye cheer?”

  “Cheer?”

  Fitz gave them both a dirty look, then started tapping his boots again.

  Grace tried to stop smiling, but she just couldn’t help it. She was just too glad to get to see him again, if only for a few minutes. And if she could draw it out for a while longer, she would take him aside and tell him she understood now. She understood…everything.

  But at the moment, he still wouldn’t look at her. Had she hurt his feelings so badly?

  The witch snorted. “Ye may have been clever, Fitz. But it was hardly heroic.”

  “Oh?” he took one boot and started working it over his foot. “If it was nay heroic, Soni, then why have ye come?”

  The witch rolled her eyes again and let her hands drop to her sides. “Ye’re no fun a’tall, Fitz.” She tilted her head to the side. “That’s it then. Come now. Time for yer reward, aye?”

  Grace’s stomach fell. She couldn’t believe he was really leaving.

  “I doona want it,” he grumbled.

  “What?” Grace and the witch said the word in unison.

  Grace took a step closer, wanting to reach out and touch him, but worried that, the second she did, she’d burst into tears. “What do you mean, you don’t want it? I thought this reward was what you came for.”

  “What good will it do?” He finally looked at her. His nostrils flared and she could see actual torment in his glistening, emerald eyes. There was no imposter. Only the man she’d fallen in love with. And he was hurting. “A noble deed hasn’t won me you, has it, then?” When his gaze finally fell away, he finished tying the first boot and impatiently reached for the second.

  “Don’t be an idiot, Jimbo,” she said, and was thrilled when he looked up again.

  Man, she was going to be in a lot of trouble if she could get that kind of a rush from just a look. And the second she’d become addicted, her drug of choice was going to be taken away and she’d be forced into withdrawals. Cold turkey.

  She touched him lightly on his hand. “You’ve already won my heart, you silly ghost. And if that’s all you can take with you, then take it. But why not take your reward too?”

  He still looked shell-shocked from her saying he’d won her heart. But after a few seconds, he recovered. “I regret I cannot.”

  She couldn’t help it. Her body was all primed and ready to fall apart. A few tears were just the beginning. “You can’t take my heart?”

  “Auch, aye. I’ll take it and gladly. ‘Tis the reward I won’t take, for there is no reward if it is not you.”

  The witch cleared her throat. “And what of yer revenge?”

  He looked almost embarrassed. “If ye ask a lad to do a man’s job, ye canna blame the lad.”

  “What’s that?” Soni leaned closer.

  He wrestled with his boot. “Ye heard me, ye mean thing.”

  She laughed. “Me? Mean?”

  He shook his hair away from his face. “Nay. I suppose not. Ye gave me two days with my Grace. I canna fault that.”

  “Where is this wise man who has beaten his wisdom into that stubborn skull?”

  “Nay. He wasna wise at all. Not where it mattered most.”

  The witch nodded sharply. “Well, I’m glad. I worried what might have become of ye had ye met with the prince.”

  “At Judgment?”

  “Aye. For I’ve judge ye to be a worthy man, Fitzjames Payton. And if ye can forgive the prince, perhaps God will see ye the same.”

  “Auch. I hope it as well.” He smiled into Grace’s eyes and ran his knuckles gently along the side of her face. “For ye see, I’d prefer to bide a while by the gates of Heaven if He’ll allow me, so I’ll be there to greet a certain lass.”

  “I see,” Soni said. “Well, ye’d best get on then. I believe someone is holding the gate open for ye now.” She gestured toward a long row of hedges in the shadows where light reflected off something shiny. But as it grew, Grace realized what it was—the way to the other side.

  “No!” she screamed and pounced, wrapping her arms around Fitz, keeping him put. “Don’t take him. I know what I said in the car. I know I promised to be tough, that I could go on without him, but I can’t let you take him! I can’t!”

  Fitz slipped his arms out from under hers, then pulled her against him and turned to put his booted feet back on the ground. When he closed his eyes tight, tears leaked from the corners.

  “Forgive me, lass,” he whispered. “I knew I couldn’t stay and I sought yer heart in spite of it. The fault is mine. But try to remember me in a kind light from time to time, for I shall be waiti
ng at the gate for ye, in any case.”

  “No. You can’t go without me.” She turned to the witch without releasing him. “Take me, too. Let me go with him.”

  The girl gasped. “Ye don’t know what ye say, lass. Fitzjames goes now to leave mortal life behind. If ye go, ye die.”

  Grace shook her head against his chest and held tighter. “I know this man. I know his story. I know how he suffered before and after Culloden. He’s too honorable to take revenge on the prince, even though he’s waited for it all those years. So it’s about time he got what he wants.” She faced him and forced him to look into her eyes. “Do you want me, Fitz? Forget everything else and just tell me, do you want me?”

  “More than life itself, lass. But—”

  “You see?” She whispered to Soncerae past the tears in her throat. “He wants me, and that is all that matters. I don’t care what’s fair, or what rules you play by. You take us together, or not at all.”

  Fitz inhaled sharply, but it wasn’t because of what she’d said. She followed his gaze to the bright light. Standing in front of it were three girls in long skirts and braids. They smiled and waved at Fitz, gazed at him for a long minute while Grace held her breath, then nodded and turned away, disappearing in the brightness. And Grace finally exhaled.

  His sisters were there, waiting for him. He didn’t really need her after all. But she needed him, and she wanted him to stay so badly she was sure God would understand.

  “That will have to be reward enough for now, my friend.” Soni told Fitz, then stepped close and wrapped her arms around them both. “Fare thee well.”

  Grace was petrified. “Are… Are we going now?”

  Soni shook her head. “Just I.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  The witch shrugged and stepped away. “Maybe, someday, the two of ye will puzzle it out.”

  She wiggled her fingers at Fitz, who smiled back with tears still leaking from the corner of his eye. When Grace looked again, Soncerae was gone. By the hedges, there was nothing but shadows. And by some miracle, Fitz was still there. Still warm, still solid.