Beyond the Highland Mist

by Karen Marie Moning

  Olivia’s breath caught audibly as she stared at Adrienne.

  “Greetings, Olivia. Have you come to speak with my husband?”

  Momentarily free of Adrienne’s wrathful gaze, the Hawk preened. Husband, she’d said. And she’d said it possessively. Perhaps there was hope after all.

  “We’ve spoken quite the common language in the past,” Olivia drawled. “A sort of wordless communication, if you catch my drift. Just the kind of talk the Hawk likes the best.”

  “Put her in the Peacock Room then,” Adrienne spat over her shoulder as she tugged Lydia out the door and slammed it behind her.

  CHAPTER 15

  THE KING MAY HAVE RELEASED YOU FROM HIS SERVICE, BUT I would never dream of releasing you from mine. You’ve serviced me so well in the past, I swear, I’m quite spoiled.” Olivia wriggled closer on the low stone bench in the courtyard resting the curve of her ripe hip against the Hawk’s muscular thigh.

  Lydia had returned alone to the house a scant quarter hour after she and Adrienne had left, shooting a smug smile at her son where he reclined at the great table with the infernal Olivia. Coffee forgotten, the Hawk had quickly steered Olivia to the gardens to see what his wife might be up to. When his mother looked at him like that, well, the woman had a mind like a well-oiled catapult, deadly in the attack.

  So he had strolled Olivia through the vast gardens at a breathless pace, his eyes peeled for the guards trailing his wife. Nothing. Time and time again his eyes had been drawn northward, to the flickering rim of firelight at the edge of the rowans.

  “May I assume we’ll entertain each other tonight as we used to, Hawk?” Olivia’s warm breath fanned his cheek.

  Hawk sighed inaudibly. “Olivia, I’m a married man, now.”

  Olivia’s laugh tinkled just a bit too brightly, reminding Hawk that she was a woman who delighted in stealing another woman’s man. The more difficult the man was to obtain, the happier Olivia was. Hawk was well acquainted with her peculiar game; she enjoyed hurting other women, crushing their dreams, breaking their hearts. Hawk suspected it was a revenge of sorts; that once a woman had taken her man, and she’d never gotten over it—had become a bitter, destructive woman instead. Once he’d finally understood, he’d felt almost sorry for her. Almost.

  “She’s Mad Janet, Hawk,” Olivia said dryly.

  “Her name is—” He broke off abruptly. He mustn’t give Olivia any ammunition. He took a careful breath and rephrased. “Her middle name is Adrienne, ’tis the one she prefers.” He added coolly, “You may call her Lady Douglas.”

  Olivia’s brow rose derisively. “I shan’t call her lady anything. The whole country knows she’s mad as a rabid hound. I hadn’t heard, however, that she was bearable to the eye.”

  Hawk snorted. “Bearable? My wife is exquisite by any standards.”

  Olivia laughed shakily, then her voice firmed sarcastically. “Well, and lah-de-dah! Could it be that the legendary Hawk thinks he’s in love? The roué of endless women thinks he might stop with this one? Oh, do give it up, mon chéri. It’s nauseating. I know what kind of man you are. There’s no point in affecting elevated sensibilities we both know you don’t possess.”

  Hawk’s voice was icy when he spoke. “Contrary to your expectations, I am not the man I was at James’s court. You don’t know anything about me—other than the illusions you’ve chosen to believe in.” He paused a heavy moment to lend emphasis to his next words. “Olivia, there is no king here to order me to accommodate you, and I’m never going back to James’s court. It’s over. It’s all over.” The moment the words were said, Hawk’s heart soared. He was free.

  “That’s all it was? You accommodated me?” Olivia demanded.

  “You knew that.” Hawk snorted derisively. “I turned you away a dozen times before you went to James. Did you convince yourself that I’d had a change of heart? You know exactly what happened. It was you who petitioned the king to make me—” Hawk broke off abruptly, catching the glint of a silvery-blond mane in the moonlight a few yards from where they sat.

  Adrienne approached, her arm tucked in the crook of Adam’s elbow, a splendid crimson cape thrown over her shoulders, the silk billowing sensually in the gentle evening breeze.

  “Olivia.” Adrienne inclined her head.

  Olivia snorted lightly and possessively grasped the Hawk’s muscled arm.

  “Join us,” the Hawk said quickly, ignoring the sudden pinch of Olivia’s nails.

  The thought of Adrienne walking off into the darkness with Adam did dangerous things to his head. Hawk frowned as he realized that it was likely as dangerous for Adrienne to be exposed to anything Olivia might say or do.

  He certainly didn’t want the conversation to continue where it had broken off—not in front of Adrienne—without an explanation from him. He knew he had to gain control, but he had no experience with this type of situation. He’d never had an ex-mistress try to provoke trouble with his wife because he’d never had a wife before, and he’d certainly never been entangled in an encounter so rife with hazardous potential. His concern that Olivia might say or do something to hurt Adrienne unbalanced his customary logic.

  Fortunately and unfortunately—depending on how he viewed it—Adrienne declined his offer. Relieved, Hawk resolved to pack Olivia off at the earliest moment possible then reclaim his wife from the smithy and have a good long talk with her.

  “We wouldn’t wish to disturb your cozy tête-à-tête,” Adrienne demurred. “Bouche-à-bouche is more like it,” she muttered half under her breath.

  “What did you just say?” Olivia asked sweetly. “Tu parles français?”

  “No,” Adrienne replied flatly.

  Olivia laughed airily and studied her. “You seem to be a woman of no few secrets, Janet Comyn. Perhaps you and I should have our own tête-à-tête and exchange a few of those intimacies. After all”—her gaze wandered possessively over the Hawk—“we share much in common. I’m sure you’d be fascinated to hear of the Hawk’s time at James’s court. He was quite the man about—”

  “That would be lovely,” Adrienne interrupted her smoothly, terminating the flow of Olivia’s poisonous words. Her insides were already in a turmoil; if she heard much more, she’d either scream or cry—she didn’t know which, but she did know it wouldn’t be at all ladylike. “Some other time, however, Olivia. I quite have my hands full right now.” She wrapped her hands around Adam’s bicep, imitating Olivia’s clutch on the Hawk. Pressing closer to Adam, she let him steer her away.

  “Smithy!” Hawk finally found his voice. He’d listened to the women’s conversation in frozen horror, struggling to conceive an entree into the risky repartee; but once again Adrienne had unwittingly spared him by silencing Olivia before the Hawk had resorted to stuffing his sporran into her scheming, lying mouth.

  Adam paused mid-stride and moved closer to Adrienne. Her crimson cape flickered in the soft breeze and Hawk felt as if it was taunting him. Where the hell had she gotten that cape?

  “My lord?” Adam smiled sardonically. His large, tanned hand rose to cover Adrienne’s where it rested on his arm.

  “There are ninety-two horses I’m going to need shoes for. That’s three hundred and sixty-eight shoes. Get on it. This minute.”

  “Certainly, my lord.” Adam smiled gamely. “Heating up a forge is just what I had in mind.”

  Hawk’s hands clenched into fists at his sides.

  “Ninety-two! Hawk!” Olivia fanned her breasts. Her greedy attention had passed to the smithy and she was speculatively looking Adam over. Hawk watched as her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. “I knew you were wealthy, but that’s a lot of prime flesh,” she drawled, her eyes moving up and down, surveying the smithy from head to toe. She dragged her gaze away from Adam. “Perhaps you might spare a stud for me?” She looked sidewise at the Hawk beneath fluttery lashes.

  “Definitely.” Hawk sighed as he watched his wife’s retreating form. “What do you think of our smithy, Olivia?” he asked
cautiously.

  What was she doing? Had she lost her mind? When Lydia had proposed that she seek out Adam and stroll the gardens with him, it had seemed like a good idea, although now Adrienne hadn’t the faintest idea why.

  Because Hawk made her angry, that’s why. He’d dared think she was so stupid that he could pursue her and invite his mistress to visit all in the same day.

  Once before she’d been just that stupid. Once, she might have convinced herself that Olivia was a troublemaking trespasser and that the Hawk was full of pristine intentions. Yes, once she would have believed that Eberhard really was going to the bathroom, leaving her in the main room of the party, while in fact he was stealing a quickie in the pool-house with a voluptuous socialite.

  But she wasn’t that woman anymore. She never would be again.

  Hawk, the legendary seducer of women, had spent the afternoon trying to convince her that she was the only one he desired, but by dinner a new woman had appeared. An old flame. And he smiled at her. He strolled in the gardens with her. He forgot Adrienne’s coffee for her. He was just one of those men who paid attention to whichever woman was in his face and willing.

  Olivia was certainly willing.

  And just why do you care, Adrienne?

  I don’t care. I just don’t like being treated like a fool!

  “The Hawk makes a fool of you,” Adam said softly.

  Adrienne smothered a gasp. The man seemed to read her very mind. Or it was so true that anyone could see it, even the smithy?

  “You deserve far better, Beauty. I would gift you with anything you desired. Silks for your perfect body. All the coffee beans on Jamaica’s Blue Mountain. Yet he gifts you with nothing.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Means nothing to me.” Adrienne shivered slightly within the cape Adam had draped about her shoulders.

  “It should. You’re the most exquisite woman I’ve encountered, winsome Beauty. I would give you everything. Anything. Name it. Command me. I will make it yours.”

  “Fidelity?” Adrienne shot back at the blacksmith. Somehow they had reached the forge, although Adrienne had no memory of having walked that far. Her feet felt oddly light and her head swam.

  “Forever,” the smithy purred, “and beyond.”

  “Truly?” Adrienne asked, then kicked herself. Why ask? Men lie. Words proved nothing. Eberhard Darrow Garrett had given her all the right words.

  “Some men lie. But then some men are incapable of it. Do you lie, sweet Beauty? If I asked you for fidelity and pledged mine in return, would you give it? Could I trust your words?”

  Of course, she thought. She had no problem with fidelity.

  “I suspected as much,” Adam said. “You’re one of a kind, Beauty.”

  Was she answering him? She hadn’t thought she was. Adrienne felt light-headed. “Where are the guards?” she murmured.

  “You are in my realm. I am all the protection you will ever need.”

  “Who are you?” Adrienne asked.

  Adam laughed at her question. “Come into my world, Beauty. Let me show you marvels to exceed your wildest dreams.”

  Adrienne turned a dreamy eye toward Dalkeith, but all she saw was a strange shimmer at the forest’s edge—no lights of the castle. The sound of surf filled her ears, but that couldn’t be. The ocean was at the west end of the bailey and she was at the north. Why couldn’t she see the castle? “Where is the castle, Adam? Why can’t I see Dalkeith anymore?” Her vision blurred and she was assailed by the uncanny sensation that somehow she was no longer even in Scotland. Wherever she was, it didn’t feel like a good place to be.

  “The veil grows thin,” Adam purred. “Morar awaits you, lovely one.”

  She was lying beside him in cool sand with no understanding of how she’d managed to get there. Her mind was impossibly muddled. A sense of danger, inimical and ancient, gripped the pit of her stomach. This man … something about this man wasn’t quite right.

  “Who are you, really, Adam Black?” she insisted. Merely forming the words was a challenge, her tongue felt thick, her muscles rubbery.

  Adam grinned. “You’re closer than you think, Beauty.”

  “Who?” she insisted, fighting to retain control of her senses. The rich, dark scent of jasmine and sandalwood befuddled her mind.

  “I am the sin siriche du, Beauty. I am the one for you.”

  “Are you from the twentieth century too?” she asked dizzily. “What’s wrong with me? Why do I feel so strange?”

  “Hush, Adrienne. Let me love you as you deserve. You are the only one for me …” Too late he realized his error.

  The only one. The only one. Hawk had tried to make her believe the same thing. How was the smithy different? Judging from the feel of his hard arousal pressed against her thigh, not very. Just like Eberhard. Just like the Hawk. Not again! Adrienne fought to steady her voice, to clear her head. “Release me, Adam.”

  “Never.” Adam’s powerful hands gripped her body. She could feel them unfasten her cape and slide over her breasts. Guiding her down to the silky sand, he rose above her, his face gilded amber by the fire. Sweat beaded at his brow and glistened just above his cruel and beautiful lips.

  Adrienne puzzled at the illogic of sand beneath her body. She could see the red-gold glow of the fire. Where was she? On a beach or at the forge? She concluded foggily that it didn’t matter, if he would only let her go. “Release me!” Her cry took all the strength she possessed.

  Release her if she asks, fool, a shadow of a voice commanded.

  Suddenly the night was still. The sound of surf faded into the chirping of crickets.

  Adam’s grip tightened painfully on Adrienne’s shoulders.

  Release her, Adam. She chooses was the bargain struck. Honor the pact—

  But King Finnbheara—he dishonors us!

  Fool! If you have not honor, you shall not roam freely in the future!

  A bitter gust of breeze carried a furious sigh from Adam, and then she was standing nose to nose with the Hawk. His face was dark with fury.

  The silken cape upon Adrienne’s shoulders fluttered wildly, a flame of brilliant crimson.

  “Where have you been?” Hawk demanded.

  “Adam and I—” Adrienne began, then looked around. Adam was nowhere to be seen. Her mind was sharp and clear again; that dreamy fog was an unsavory and incomplete memory. She stood by the fire at the forge, but the flames had deteriorated to cold embers and the night was growing blacker by the minute. “I was just walking,” she amended hastily, and ducked her head to avoid his penetrating gaze.

  “Adrienne.” Hawk groaned, gazing down at the pale cascade of hair that shielded her face from him. “Look at me.” He reached for her chin, but she turned away.

  “Stop it.”

  “Look at me,” he repeated relentlessly.

  “Don’t,” she pleaded. But he didn’t listen. He gripped her waist and pulled her against the hard, male length of him.

  Adrienne looked up, despite her best intentions, into eyes of midnight and the chiseled face of a warrior. His bronzed, hard Viking’s body promised cataclysmic passion.

  “Lass, tell me it’s not him. Say it. Give me the words. Even if you can’t feel for me yet, tell me you have no real feeling for him and I will overlook all that has transpired.” Groaning, he dropped his silky dark head forward against her, as if reveling in simply being close.

  The clean, spicy scent of his hair, black as sin, stirred her senses in ways she couldn’t comprehend.

  “I feel for Adam.” Her tongue felt thick. Even her body tried to defy her around this man. She forced herself to say cruel words to hurt him, and it hurt her to do it.

  “Where did you get this cape?” he asked evenly, his hands sliding over the rippling fabric.

  “Adam.” Perhaps he hadn’t heard her. He hadn’t even so much as flinched.

  Deftly, he unfastened the silver brooch at her neck with steady hands. No, she mused, he definitely hadn’t heard her. Maybe she�
�d mumbled inaudibly.

  Easily he slid the cape from her body. Gracefully, even.

  She stood frozen in shock as his strong, bronzed hands shredded the cape into tatters. The expression on his face was hard and cold. Oh, he’d definitely heard her. How could she remain untouched by the barbaric and beautiful maelstrom of masculine fury that he was in his … jealousy?

  Yes, jealousy.

  Same as she’d felt about Olivia.

  Dear God, what was happening to her?

  CHAPTER 16

  “WHY DID YOU DO THAT?” SHE GASPED WHEN SHE WAS ABLE to speak.

  Hawk placed a finger beneath her chin and tilted her head back, forcing her to meet his flinty gaze.

  “I will tear from you anything Adam gives you. Remember that. If I find his body draped over yours, he will suffer the same fate.” His eyes drifted meaningfully over a scrap of crimson silk stuck on the bark of tree, flapping like a dead thing in the breeze.

  “Why?”

  “Because I want you.”

  “You don’t even know me!”

  His mouth curved in a beautiful smile. “Oh, sweet lass, I know everything about you. I know you’re a complex woman, full of dualities; you’re innocent, yet tough; intelligent”—He cocked a teasing brow—“but lacking a smidge of common sense.”

  “I am not!” Adrienne scowled her protest.

  He laughed huskily. “You have a wonderful sense of humor and you laugh often, but sometimes you’re melancholy.” He crowded her with his body and gazed down at her with heavy, hooded eyes. Adrienne tossed her head, trying vainly to dislodge his finger from beneath her chin and escape his penetrating gaze.

  He cupped her face firmly with both hands. “You’re a willful woman, and I’d like to be the focus of such a willful woman’s desire. I’d like to have you yield your trust and loyalty to me as steadfastly as you withhold it. I’m a mature man, Adrienne. I will be patient while I woo you—but woo you, I will.”