Lonesome Rider and Wilde Imaginings

by Heather Graham

  But she wasn’t able to put that possibility before him, because he made no effort to see her. The solicitor had stopped by to make arrangements to read the will on Friday morning; some of the neighbors, the parson and his wife, and the local doctor, had made calls, too.

  But Brian had kept away.

  She sighed, sinking down on the slab by Paddy’s coffin, then shivered suddenly and looked around, feeling eerily as if she weren’t alone anymore.

  She wasn’t alone, she reminded herself. She was here with dozens and dozens of dead relatives. But she wasn’t losing her mind; she was a sane and logical person, and she didn’t believe in ghosts. The door to the stairs and the outside world was wide open. There was actually a bright sun in the south of England today.

  And she was alone. She had walked around the entire place, sliding her fingers along the stone wall to find some other entry or exit, and she had discovered nothing. Other than the fact that, even in daylight, the inner rooms were dark and musty and smelled like …

  Death.

  Once again she shivered. It was time to get out of this place.

  She slipped off the slab by Paddy’s coffin and started for the stairs, but when she reached the doorway and looked up, she froze.

  Someone was coming. Someone dark and towering and huge against the sunlight was staring at her. She threw up an arm to shield her eyes against the glare, amazed at the fear racing through her. Whoever he was, he had only to come down those stairs, press her back and lock her in with the dead forever. Perhaps he was one of them, come to make her stay.…

  “What in God’s name are you doing in there?”

  She let out the breath she had been holding, and her heart seemed to shudder within her chest, as if it had stopped right along with her breathing.

  It was Brian. “What are you doing?” he repeated angrily, striding down the stairs and coming to stand before her.

  “None of your damned business!”

  He walked past her into the crypt, staring around as if he expected something to be changed. “How do I know you’re not some little gold digger, willing even to rob the dead?”

  She stared at him, locked her jaw and swung around, but before she had taken a full step he caught hold of her shoulders and swung her back again. Another tingle of fear swept through her.

  He had been the one to find her the last time. How could she be sure that he wasn’t the one who had cracked her on the head? He was the one who kept appearing … and denying his every appearance.

  “Did you follow Darryl here again?” he demanded.

  Her eyes widened. “No. Why?”

  “What are you doing here, then?”

  “Communing with the dead,” she retorted sharply. The gold sizzle of his eyes swept her. “And I’m quite finished doing so,” she continued. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to go back above ground now.”

  He stared at her without moving.

  This was it, she thought. The end. She’d been an absolute fool. She’d fallen for this man. She’d fallen for the look in his eyes, the seduction of his touch. Fallen for the husky tone of his voice and the hungry way he looked at her. She’d trusted him blindly against all reason, and now she was going to pay the price.

  His eyes left hers at last, and he looked around the tomb once again, then sighed deeply. “All right. Let’s get out of here.” He caught hold of her arm, pushed her forward, then led her up the stairs, away from the tomb.

  A pair of flying, trumpet-playing angels guarded the stairway from either side of the tomb. Allyssa found herself sinking down on those steps, in the shadow of an angel. Brian did the same.

  “So how is cousin Darryl?” he asked her.

  “Fine.”

  “Still certain you’re a pillar of virtue?”

  Allyssa stared at him, feeling color stain her cheeks. “What did you want me to tell him? ‘I’m sorry, you were busy, so I went to the tomb and got myself conked on the head. But Brian found me, so naturally I went home with him and …’”

  Her voice failed her, right when she had intended to be flippant.

  “You’re ashamed? You have regrets?” he demanded.

  “It just …” she began.

  “Oh, that’s right. It’s rude to sleep with one man while you’re living with another.”

  “Oh, would you stop!” she cried. Leaping up, she started away from the cemetery with long strides.

  “Wait!” he snapped, catching up with her in seconds and taking her arm again. She tried to shake him off, but he refused to let her go. “Excuse me for having found you so damned fascinating!” he seethed, spinning her around.

  “I—”

  “Let’s get lunch,” he said. Without giving her a chance either to agree or refuse, he started walking so quickly that she couldn’t do anything other than try to keep up. To her surprise, she found that there was a car in front of the castle, a small BMW. He led her to it.

  “Yours?” she murmured.

  “I do drive upon occasion,” he said curtly.

  Apparently he didn’t believe in speaking while he did so, either, she reflected sourly a little while later. Nor did he just drive down into the village. They traveled for nearly thirty minutes until they came to a small town with a delightful open-air restaurant overlooking a tiny creek where black swans swam.

  He suggested the lamb, the first words he’d spoken since leaving the castle. “The Dover sole is also excellent here,” he told her.

  In the end, she opted for the fish. It was nice to be out and away, she reflected as they waited for their food. He had ordered dark beer for both of them, and she sipped hers, becoming accustomed to the fact that it was served warm. Then she leaned back and watched the swans.

  “So what were you doing in the tomb?” he asked her.

  She brought her gaze from the swans to his eyes. Hard and gold, they assessed her. “You brought me to lunch just to get an answer to that question?”

  “I brought you to lunch because I wanted to see you away from the damned castle again,” he said.

  She smiled, then lowered her lashes quickly, not wanting her eyes to give away too much. She had wanted to see him again, too. No. She had wanted much more than just to see him again. She wanted the magic of that night again. Not just the shimmering excitement, but the warmth, the tenderness. The way she had felt when he held her. So coveted, so secure.

  “I was trying to find …” she murmured.

  “What?”

  She lifted her hands, palms up. “I don’t know, exactly. Another entrance or exit. Is there one?”

  He arched one brow. “I don’t know,” he said at last. “I never thought about it. I certainly never looked for one.”

  “Well, I don’t think there is. I looked, and I didn’t find one.”

  Brian leaned back, staring at her sternly now. “Stay out of the tomb.”

  “But it was broad daylight—”

  “And it’s still underground, dark and dank, and you found yourself in danger there once before.”

  “According to you, I fell down the stairs.”

  “I don’t know what happened. Neither of us really knows what happened. I thought we agreed on that?”

  She smiled again, her lashes lowered. “I don’t think we ever agreed on anything. I think you just did your best to convince me that you weren’t disagreeing with me—at least for the moment.”

  He reached across the table. His hand, large and bronze, covered hers, and her heart began to thud. “Want to try to reenact the night and find out just what we did and didn’t agree upon?”

  Yes, she did. …

  Their waitress arrived with the sole, and Brian abruptly removed his hand from hers. “Ah, but, we don’t want to be rude to poor Darryl,” he muttered.

  “I wish you’d quit that!” she said.

  He shrugged. “And I wish you’d quit playing games.”

  “I’m not playing any games!” she assured him. “I don’t know what’s going on. I d
on’t really know either of you. I—”

  “You don’t know me?” he inquired softly. She gritted her teeth, not replying, and he leaned closer, ebony hair falling over his forehead, eyes flashing. “You damned well ought to know me. And you should learn to trust your own instincts.”

  “Right! You never seem to believe a word I say, but I should trust my own instincts! I’m telling you, I don’t know what’s going on here. I still can’t begin to understand what my mother was talking about—”

  “Your mother?” he interrupted, suddenly curious.

  She stared across the table at him. “When she was dying, she kept saying she wasn’t guilty. That she hadn’t done something she had been accused of doing. I couldn’t understand her, and she was so ill, I didn’t want to press her to explain. But the things she said nagged at me. They were what compelled me to come over here once the lawyer reached me. I honestly didn’t remember anything about this place. Anything at all.”

  Brian sat back again, his eyes on the swans this time as he ran his finger up and down his beer glass.

  “I remember. Vaguely,” he said after a moment.

  “You do?” Startled, she leaned eagerly across the table.

  He shrugged. “They’d been doing some digging in the wine cellar at the castle. They happened upon a passage, and a number of relics from the Norman days. One piece was a very fine cross, estimated to be from the time of William the Conqueror.”

  “And?”

  “And it disappeared. Your mother had absolutely adored it, and Paddy, being Paddy, threw out all kinds of accusations. Aunt Jane, your mother, was in tears, and your father was furious. He told Paddy in no uncertain terms that he wouldn’t allow his wife to be treated so.”

  “Good for my father!”

  Brian smiled. “I thought so, too. I was about eleven at the time. I loved Aunt Jane. My mother died when I was an infant, and I always thought that Aunt Jane was beautiful and kind and wonderful, so I was delighted to see the way that James—your dad—stood up for her. I think Paddy made his big mistake then. He probably should have apologized, and maybe he even wanted to. But he was a stubborn old coot, even then, so he kept silent. Your father threatened to leave, and when Paddy failed to apologize, James carried through on his threat and went to America, where I gather he lived very happily.”

  “Until he died,” Allyssa said softly.

  “Mmm. I think Paddy actually found out where you were right after James died. But, of course, there was no way on earth he could convince your mother to come home. Your father had always been his favorite, though, you know. I knew that you would be left something in the will. Maybe that was his way of bringing you home.”

  Allyssa moved her fish around on her plate. “Thank you for telling me this. I asked Darryl, but he didn’t remember.”

  “Darryl remembers. Darryl and I are the same age. He couldn’t have missed what was going on!”

  “Then he didn’t want to tell me,” Allyssa said. “He probably wanted to spare my feelings. Maybe he’s afraid I’ll believe my mother was a thief.”

  “Who the hell knows?” he said, suddenly irritable. “Such a magnanimous gesture seems out of character.”

  “Why are you so hard on him!” Allyssa flared.

  “Because he’s been a spendthrift, a parasite and a wastrel all his life,” Brian said flatly.

  “Oh, really? And you think he’s frittering away something that should rightfully be yours?” she asked sweetly.

  “Damn it, no, I—” He broke off. “All right. Have it your way, Miss Evigan. Stand up for him if you want!” He leaned close. “But take care! I can’t guarantee that I’ll always be in the right place at the right time, especially when you’re so damned careless!”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  “And I pray that you never do! Are you done? Maybe we’d best get back before poor Darryl misses you.”

  Oh, yes. She was quite done. She threw her napkin on the table and rose, walking out of the restaurant and leaving him to pay the tab.

  He was silent on the ride back, saying nothing until he pulled to a stop on the bridge over the empty moat. She reached for the door handle, but before she could touch it, she suddenly found herself in his arms. Furious, she tried to protest his touch, but her resistance lasted only seconds. The thrust of his tongue was too seductive for her to resist. There was no way to feel his arms, his lips, and not remember …

  And not feel the heat, the hunger, steal into her body.

  Then, as abruptly as he had taken her, he released her. When he spoke, his words were a caress against her lips. “Remember, there’s much more where that came from. Waiting for you whenever you can tear yourself away from poor dear Darryl!”

  She gritted her teeth, then pushed him away with a vengeance and slammed out of the car. She ran across the bridge, but even then, she could hear his laughter. Furious with herself, she touched her lips, swollen now, bruised and awakened by his kiss.

  She found Darryl in the great hall, reading the paper, waiting for her.

  He rose quickly when she came in. “I was getting worried,” he told her. “Of course, I’ve been such a poor host. But I thought that you might enjoy a movie. There’s a cinema in the next town over. They do a nice double feature. Then we might have dinner.”

  “That sounds … wonderful,” Allyssa told him. She wished she could shake her feelings for Brian. Darryl was so courteous, so considerate! And she felt so guilty.

  Was she a fool, as well, trusting a man who meant her only harm? She didn’t know. Something deep within her kept warning her that Brian was the one who kept mysteriously appearing …

  And then denied that he had done so. Yet who could look so much like Brian, talk like him, except Brian himself? And yet some other part of her kept crying out that she had to trust him. So where was the truth?

  “I’ll get my coat,” she told Darryl. “It might get cold later.”

  “Great,” he said. “We’ll have fun. We do well together, don’t you think?”

  She nodded a bit jerkily. “I’ll just be a moment.”

  And it was a nice evening. The first movie was very funny, and then there was an intermission, when tea was served. They stopped for fish and chips on the way back, and talked about everything but the estate. When they reached the castle once again, Darryl took her by the arms and drew her to him. Perhaps she stiffened; perhaps he simply sensed her reserve. He merely kissed her tenderly on the forehead.

  “Good night, Allyssa,” he told her huskily. Then he whispered, so softly that she wondered if she really heard it, “Just give me a chance.”

  She saw little of him on Thursday—and nothing at all of Brian.

  But at ten o’clock on Friday morning the three of them, a number of the servants and the solicitor gathered in the great hall for the reading of Paddy’s will.

  It was long. Very long! There were bequests to this one and that one for long and generous service. Paddy might have been a stubborn old coot, but he had also been a thoughtful one, in his way. He hadn’t forgotten a single soul in his employ.

  The solicitor’s voice droned on and on. After a while Allyssa ceased to pay attention. She stared first at the flames in the hearth, then at the swords and coats-of-arms on the walls.

  Then suddenly she realized that there was absolute silence in the room.

  And everyone was staring straight at her.

  “What?” she murmured.

  Darryl stood up. “Excuse me,” he muttered darkly. Stepping past her, past them all, he strode across the hallway. The heavy ancient door slammed in his wake.

  “What?” she repeated, staring from the red-faced solicitor to Brian. “What is it?”

  But Brian stood, too, then leaned over her chair, his smile icy. “Why, Miss Evigan, weren’t you listening? Paddy decide to leave everything to you. Oh, there are conditions, of course! But the bulk and bundle are really yours. Isn’t that what you came for?”

/>   He straightened away from her, and a second later the heavy door slammed a second time.

  This time it seemed to slam against her heart.

  Chapter Six

  By the following Monday afternoon her head was pounding. After Darryl and Brian had left, the help had all walked out, too, each and every person staring at her as if she were the wolf who had come after the three little pigs. The solicitor hadn’t even had time for her then, he had told her to come to his office on Monday morning, when he would do his best to explain everything.

  She had found Darryl that night at the supper table and tried very hard to apologize. He had simply waved a hand in the air. “You didn’t do it, Paddy did. And I don’t mind that you’re the one in charge, I really don’t.” He offered her a bitter grin. “I’d much rather you than Brian! It’s just that I lived with Paddy, stayed with Paddy, all these years. I kept this damned place going all these years! I’m hurt by the way he treated me, don’t you see? But, Allyssa, you mustn’t be distressed. I’m sorry I walked out this morning, truly I am. If you don’t mind, though, I’d just as soon be alone at the moment.”

  Miserably, she’d gone to bed. On Saturday he’d avoided her, though she’d attended church services with him on Sunday, and she’d seen Brian there, too.

  He had stared long and hard at her, then offered her a mocking bow. He hadn’t waited to talk with her after the services, either. She’d spent the Sunday afternoon by herself, riding.

  Pausing in the cemetery and looking down the stairs to the family crypt, she’d wondered, Paddy, what were you doing? Trying to make up for what you did to my mother and father? But you can’t imagine what you’ve done to me now!

  In the morning, while she was pondering a way to ask Darryl for transportation to the solicitor’s office, a car arrived for her, sent from that very office. Then she spent the next three hours trying to understand the stipulations of the will. The castle was to be home to all of Paddy’s descendants for as long as they desired, but all decisions concerning its upkeep were to be hers. Care of the cottage was Brian’s. Care of the stables and business was to remain with Darryl, if he so chose, but he was to draw a salary. The remainder of the profits would be hers. She couldn’t sell anything without agreement from Darryl and Brian. If she should die, control of the castle would revert to Darryl, with absolute control of the cottage then falling to Brian. It was extremely confusing and complex, and by the time she returned to the castle, she wanted to either lie down and fall into a deep sleep, or drink herself into a stupor.