“Well, Dallyn, would you care to join me for lunch?”
His eyes lit up, his face breaking into a beautiful smile. “I would like that very much.”
Under normal circumstances, she would never have considered inviting a complete stranger to eat with her. But nothing had been “normal” since she’d set foot in Scotland.
Besides, this particular stranger held no threat for her. He was an amazingly good person.
She’d felt it in his touch.
* * *
Henry was home, ensconced in the den in his favorite chair.
Ian watched the man fiddle with the remote control, hunting for the program he wanted on television. He was obviously uncomfortable, his face contorting in pain each time he moved too quickly.
“Are you sure yer up to handling this on yer own?”
Henry glared at him. “I willna be on my own. Peter and Martha are here. Go.”
Ian turned to leave, but stopped. “You’d be in less pain if you’d take the medication they gave you.”
“Fine job of handling things I could do drugged out of my senses.” He tossed the remote to the table. “How do you think I’m to figure out what’s going on with our guest if I canna feel anything?”
As Ian had expected, Henry wasn’t at all pleased with the suggestion that he might have been wrong about Sarah.
“I’m no telling you to stay medicated for her whole visit, Henry. Only for a few days. Until the pain eases a bit.”
“Oh, so I suppose you think I’m no up to handling a little pain now.”
“Are you planning to act the petulant child all evening?”
“Only so long as you’re acting the meddling maiden aunt.”
Ian shook his head and sighed. “Even as a child, you never were good with pain, Nephew.” He stalked out of the room, not waiting to hear Henry’s next volley.
He had packing to do. Then he’d try to reach Daniel again. If he left within the next hour, he could be at Glaston House by midday tomorrow.
* * *
Ian threw his suitcase into what passed for a backseat in his vehicle and slammed the door. The car was small and somewhat cramped, but it went very, very fast when he wanted it to, and for that alone he loved it and thought it worth every pound he had paid for it. His auto was one of the things he loved best about this time.
He turned and started toward the side of the house, briefly considering whether or not he should go find Sarah. Say good-bye.
Deciding against it, he stopped with his hand on the gate. It was better this way. Better to leave well enough alone. There was nothing to be gained by prolonging things.
He turned in time to find Dallyn pulling the suitcase out of his car.
“What do you think yer doing?”
“We’ve a substantially significant event here. It requires an adjustment on our part.” Dallyn smiled and headed toward the front of the house. “A change of plans.”
Ian reached the Fae as they entered the door, stopping him with a hand to his arm.
“We have a rather significant event emerging at Glaston House as well. I need to leave now.”
“You’ve spoken to Daniel? He’s going forward with the plan?”
“Yes. I just got off the phone with him.”
Dallyn tilted his head up, eyes closed, like he waited for divine guidance. As if none came, he sighed and turned his penetrating gaze back to Ian.
“Would that I had two of you, Ian. But I don’t, so you’re staying here for now.” He headed toward the library. “Do you suppose we might have a dram of the fine whisky you keep in here? I seem to have a craving for it this evening.”
“What do you mean, I’m staying? I just told you I spoke to Danny. I have to get to Glaston House. He’s counting on my help.”
Ian watched in frustration as Dallyn tossed the suitcase on the floor and strode directly to the recessed bar, taking down three glasses and filling them.
“I suppose Henry is entrenched in front of his infernal telly?”
“We’ll talk to Henry when we’ve finished here. What’s going on?” Ian reached out for the glass offered him. Somehow he felt he was going to need it.
Dallyn drained his drink and refilled it before speaking. “I’ve been observing your little American guest today.”
Ian could feel irritation building again. Hadn’t last night been enough?
“And?”
“She’s quite lovely.”
The Fae watched him too closely for this to be a casual comment. He refused to rise to the bait, so he said nothing.
“She’s also quite a good cook.”
“Where are you going with this?” Ian set his glass on the table.
“I took the midday meal with her…lunch, I think she called it.” The intense scrutiny continued.
“You did what?”
Dallyn rarely showed himself to Mortals. Ian could barely remember the last time it had happened.
The Fae rolled the empty glass in his hand, staring at it as if he suddenly found its composition fascinating. “Quite the experience, too, since I don’t normally find Mortal food to be to my liking.”
Now he remembered the last time Dallyn had shown himself. Clearly remembered. Resentment roiled through Ian’s blood. “No. But you’ve frequently found Mortal women to be to yer liking, have you no?”
Dallyn refilled his glass before turning. “Are you losing your objectivity on this, Ian?”
“Losing my objectivity?” He shook his head. This went well beyond arrogance. “I’m no the Fae who showed myself to a Mortal. That would be you.” He picked up his glass, continuing to glare at Dallyn.
The Fae’s laughter echoed off the walls.
“I fail to see what’s so funny.” Ian crossed the room, deliberately refilling his drink from the bottle, giving himself time to calm. It was unlike him to lose control of his temper in this way.
“Exactly. You’re failing to see.” Dallyn narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t show myself to the woman.”
“What?” The whisky sloshed out onto his hand as he jerked around to stare at the Fae.
“She saw me standing there, observing her. In my own form.”
“But…how is that possible?”
“Well that, my friend, is what you’re staying here to find out.”
* * *
Sarah and her soul seemed well matched in at least one thing—they both kept their curtains wide open.
Hidden in the deep shadows of the garden, Ian watched her, as he had since Dallyn left. Sunrise was near and still she paced, stopping for short periods of time to stare at her little computer screen before rising and pacing again.
Henry had been ecstatic when they’d spoken to him. Dallyn’s discovery had given him a whole new take on the woman. He could hardly wait for the new day to begin so he could meet her. Ian had finally convinced him they should invite her for dinner, allowing Henry to study her discreetly rather than limp down to the cottage at first light for a good stare at the woman.
He, on the other hand, had been staring at her for some time now. Of course, that was different. He needed to come up with a plan to win her trust. A way to discover how much she knew about what she was, what she could do.
Fae blood.
It was the only explanation. She was like him.
No. Not like him. Not a Guardian. She was an innocent who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Wasn’t she?
If she was, he needed a plan to protect her from the Nuadians. If they learned about her, they could use her to access the Portals. They couldn’t cross the water surrounding the Portal, but she could invite them in, lead them across. Her Fae blood would allow her to see the Portals as easily as she could see the Fae themselves.
He watched now as she emerged onto the back porch and moved slowly down to the lawn behind the cottage. She stretched her arms and lifted her face to the approaching dawn like some pagan goddess. Some Faerie goddess.
&
nbsp; He needed a plan to protect the Portal from her. Even if she were an unsuspecting innocent, she was still a danger to that all-important doorway to the Realm of Faerie.
She lowered her arms, but remained where she was, barefoot in the damp grass, as if waiting for the first ray of sunlight to bathe her face. A gentle breeze molded the gauzy gown she wore to the soft curves of her body. He was unable to tear his gaze from her.
He needed a plan to protect himself.
Five
“What do you mean, you haven’t been back to check?”
Flynn recoiled from the venom in the woman’s voice, her unrivaled beauty spoiled momentarily by the viciousness displayed on her face.
“I’m sorry, Adira. She’s not been out of the compound alone. I’ve had my men watching for any opportunity.”
“Reynard will not be pleased with your lack of progress on this front, as I am not.”
As usual, she exaggerated, giving herself the air of more influence and power than she actually wielded. Reynard didn’t share power. Flynn needed only to get around her. To get directly to Reynard. But he’d bide his time until he knew for sure. No point in troubling the Great One with “maybes.” That was what Adira was for.
“You should be there now. You must be prepared to take advantage of any chance to verify your suspicion, Flynn. This could be exactly the circumstance we’ve waited for.” She turned her back on him and walked to her ornate chair at the far end of the room. Her red gown billowed out behind her and over the arm of her chair as she sat, almost as if it had a life of its own.
The foolish woman fancied herself a queen, at the very least, though her true position was no more than courtesan to their ruler, Reynard.
“My being there waits only upon this audience with you, Adira. I delayed only to provide the update you requested.”
“Then consider the interview at an end. Verify the information as soon as possible and return to me immediately.”
Flynn turned and left the hall, a small malicious smile on his lips. Oh, as soon as he knew for sure, he would return, no doubt about that. But not to see Adira.
Going through this power-hungry bitch was an irritation, but if he were wrong, it was much less painful than having approached Reynard with bad information.
And if he was correct? His leader would be well pleased and would reward him handsomely. The smile on his face grew.
It was only by pure accident he had even noticed the woman. That she should be out driving in that storm was odd enough, but he felt strongly she’d seen him. In fact, it had seemed as though she looked for him even after she’d gotten out of her vehicle, as if she’d felt his presence while he watched her from his hiding place in the trees.
He’d know soon enough. Somewhere along the way, there would be an opportunity, and he would be there. Ready to take advantage of it.
He could afford to be patient.
The Brotherhood of Nuada had waited a very long time for an opening like this.
Six
Wasn’t letting go supposed to be the hard part? Well, she’d let go. But now she was finding the hard part was leaving it that way. Must be all those years of conditioning.
After the curious visit with her unexpected lunch guest yesterday, Sarah spent the afternoon not writing. Followed by a night of not writing. Oh, she’d tried. She’d even gotten pages down. All of which she’d deleted afterward.
Her imagination wasn’t cooperating. She’d start to write about her latest hero, a larger-than-life redhead with devastating blue eyes, but the only eyes she saw when she closed her own were obsidian. The red hair kept morphing into shiny black, curling onto a neck that rose from a pair of shoulders to die for.
Just before dawn, she’d finally thrown in the towel, gone out to meet the sun and surrendered to whatever forces were vying for control of her life. She’d offered up whatever it was the Fates wanted. A blank check. She was committed to this now. She promised not to ignore the feelings. She promised to try to act on them all. She promised to trust them.
Please, please just don’t make me feel that.
She didn’t need a man disrupting her life again.
She’d had her coffee and her shower and taken off for a long walk. Which had brought her to this place. This crossroads. Straight would take her back toward the cottage. Left would lead to the central gardens. Right would be…one of the trails Ian had cautioned her to avoid.
Wouldn’t you know it? Right felt like the way she needed to go. Like fingers tugging at her. Like she could close her eyes and still see the way.
And who would ever know? Ian was gone. His uncle, freshly returned from the hospital, was unlikely to be out and about. Even if she strayed off the McCullough estate and ran into any of the reclusive neighbors Ian had mentioned, she could simply apologize for wandering onto their land. Surely they wouldn’t be as upset as Ian had hinted they might.
She had promised to act on the feelings. The Fates wanted trust?
Here you go.
She put her hands over her eyes and twirled in a circle, throwing her arms out at the last minute to stop herself from toppling over with dizziness. Keeping her eyes closed, she walked in the direction she faced, arms extended out from her sides.
“Sarah, watch out!”
The shout drew her up short. Ian? He was supposed to be gone.
She opened her eyes and found her face within less than an inch of a low-hanging tree branch.
So much for blind trust of the Fates. Maybe this trust thing took practice. Maybe she’d better keep her eyes open next time.
* * *
What the bloody hell was wrong with the woman?
He’d watched in amusement as she’d twirled about with her eyes closed, her filmy dress flowing about her body. Even when she’d started down the trail he cautioned her against, he’d still smiled, as she obviously had no idea which direction she headed, off balance as she was from the twirl, her arms out to her sides, eyes closed. Until she’d almost bludgeoned herself on the tree, that is.
“What are you thinking? Is this how you go about gathering experience for yer latest book?” Bloody storytellers. Probably writing about a blind woman or something.
“Hardly,” she mumbled, the familiar blush staining her face and neck. “What are you doing here? I thought you left yesterday.”
“Something came up. A change of plans.” He arched an eyebrow. “Fortunately, I’m still here. And right in time to save yer pretty…” Arse. He caught himself and smiled before finishing, “…nose,” and lightly touched his finger to the tip of that nose as he said it.
A shy grin broke across her face. “My…nose thanks you. And the body part that I would have landed on right after I hit my nose on that branch thanks you, too.”
“Yer most welcome. Actually, I’m out here hunting for you.”
“Really? Did you have a premonition you’d need to save my…nose?”
“I fear Henry’s going to get the credit for that one. He sent me. He’s anxious to meet his guest, but since he’s still housebound for the next few days, he hoped you’d join us at the manor for dinner this evening. At six o’clock?”
She looked as if she might refuse.
“It would mean a lot to him.”
She chewed on her lip and he knew she was considering it.
“And I promise, it’s Martha’s cooking this time, no any of mine.”
That earned him a laugh out loud, her green eyes sparkling in the midday sun. “Okay. You’ve convinced me. I’ll be there at six.”
They turned and walked together down the path. When they reached the cottage, he opened the door for her, but blocked her entry with his arm.
“You did notice the track you were on was one I’d warned you might want to avoid, dinna you now?” Apparently his warning hadn’t been strong enough before.
“I…hadn’t really planned to go that direction.” She stopped and gave her head a defiant little tilt. “What exactly was it that I needed to
avoid on that path?”
“As you go deeper into the forest, it’s no marked. You could easily get lost and wander off our property. It’s also no cleared, so it can be dangerous. Things like low-hanging branches.” He grinned.
The blush returned and he couldn’t resist the temptation to tease.
“You should consider a large hat for yer walks, Miss Douglas.”
She looked momentarily confused. “And why is that?”
He reached out and tapped her on the nose again. “Because you’ve gone all pink on yer walk today.”
The pink turned an interesting shade of red as it flowed down from her cheeks to…He smiled again, this time wondering where the color might stop.
“Six o’clock,” she said, pushing past his arm and closing the door.
* * *
She’d only brought two suitcases. How hard could it be to decide what to wear for dinner? She’d sworn she wouldn’t go through the great clothing swap this time, but it didn’t help. She’d even resorted to standing in the middle of the room, eyes shut, waiting for a feeling to direct her to the proper dinner apparel. Nothing happened.
Obviously the Fates were fickle in their guidance. She should have expected that after her earlier “Fate” experience.
Three outfits later, she knocked at the door of the manor house.
Peter answered and escorted her to the library, where her hosts for the evening sat on the sofa, heads together, deep in discussion. As Peter announced her, Ian jumped to his feet, a smile breaking over his face.
“Ah, here’s our lovely guest now.” He strode to the door and, placing a large hand at her back, walked her over to where Henry was seated. “This is Sarah Douglas.”
“You must be Henry.” Sarah hesitated only briefly before she extended her hand. It was, after all, expected of her.
“Please forgive me for no standing. It requires a bit of a production at the moment.” The older man took her hand between his own, a sincere expression of pleasure on his face.
Henry looked exactly as she had expected, right down to the white hair, rosy cheeks and twinkling eyes.
Highland Guardian Page 5
