The Witch Of Clan Sinclair

by Ranney, Karen

  He’d come to see her.

  Should she be feeling this surge of excitement? Probably not. She should, instead, be measured and calm, restrained and proper. Above all, she should not recall how he only had to raise his eyebrow for her to fall to the floor.

  “My brother will want to know why you’re here.”

  “A neighborly call,” he said.

  She glanced over her shoulder to see him smiling lightly.

  “Don’t tell him we were lovers.”

  His smile faded. “Any other woman would be overjoyed that I went out of my way to visit, not question me on my tact.”

  “Then go and see her. Give her my best regards.”

  He came to stand behind her, so close that if she turned she’d be in his arms. She most certainly wasn’t going to turn.

  The wind blew the waves away from the shore in a fan shape, unfurled and flirty. The day was overcast, no hint of sun showing through the pale gray sky. Her mood had been the same until he’d come.

  “Mairi.”

  He mustn’t say her name like that, rolling his r’s. He mustn’t use that tone of tenderness, either.

  “Why did you leave?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I find it does,” he said. “You’ve been on my mind.”

  She turned, taking the precaution of stepping back. When he didn’t say anything more, she shook her head.

  “I shouldn’t be. Any more than you’re on mine.”

  His smile was sudden and almost the match of the hidden sun.

  “You’re a very important man. Surely you have more important things to do than chase me throughout Scotland.”

  “At the moment I can’t think of one.”

  “Don’t you have meetings to attend? People to impress? Laws to enact?”

  “We can consider this a meeting,” he said. “We can enact a law stating that it’s imperative you consider me impressive.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You can’t be here. We were unwise. Foolish. Improvident.”

  “I agree.”

  “It can never happen again.”

  He didn’t say a word.

  “I will not be your doxy.”

  Still nothing from him. Just that annoying smile.

  “Why did you leave Edinburgh?” he asked.

  “I wanted to visit my brother. Since you’ve never met my brother, you don’t have that excuse, Logan.”

  She glanced at him to find that his smile had slipped. Instead, he was looking at her somberly, studying her as if to divine her thoughts. Should she tell him what she was thinking? If she did so, it would be the ruin of her.

  He made the day brighter. He caused her stomach to churn, her heart to beat too fast.

  She was excited, overjoyed, and terrified.

  “You don’t believe women should have the vote,” she said.

  She would have talked about the weather if it would keep him from looking at her in just that way.

  “I don’t believe I’ve made my views known on the matter.”

  “That’s a politician’s statement if I’ve ever heard one.”

  “Like it or not,” he said, “I’m a politician.”

  “You used to be a bookseller.”

  “I still am that as well. Blackwell’s is, to my great satisfaction, a growing concern.”

  “All three of them.”

  “All three of them,” he said.

  “Does everything you do have a golden touch?”

  “Evidently not, or you’d be falling into my arms.”

  She frowned at him. Her frowns had been known to subdue most people, but the only effect on Logan Harrison was to make his smile wider.

  What was she going to do about him? Worse, what was she going to do about her reaction to him? Her heart was still beating fast, her lips dry.

  “As you can see, I’m very well. I’m simply visiting my brother. Now that you’ve found me, you can return to Edinburgh as quickly as possible.”

  Hopefully, before her brother or sister-in-law knew he was there.

  Unfortunately, it was about five minutes too late. Mairi heard the footsteps with resignation. This situation was about to get worse, much worse.

  She stepped away from him just as Virginia entered the room.

  “Brianag told me we had a visitor,” she said, smiling.

  From the moment she met her sister-in-law at Virginia’s wedding to Macrath, she’d thought Virginia one of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen. Her face, a perfect oval, was dominated by light blue eyes, so clear and guileless it seemed as if her soul shone through. Her black hair surrounded her face like a frame for an exquisite painting.

  She smiled often and laughed as much. She was joy given life.

  Now she walked into the room, brightening the space with her smile.

  “Logan, I’d like you to meet my sister-in-law, Virginia Sinclair. Virginia, this is Logan Harrison. The Lord Provost of Edinburgh.”

  Virginia’s eyes widened a little but she didn’t express her surprise in any other manner.

  “How lovely that you’ve come to Drumvagen,” she said. “We are so out of the way most people don’t visit.”

  Just like that, Logan was welcomed. His coat was taken, refreshments were ordered, and the three of them sat in the parlor as if the air wasn’t thrumming around them.

  Before Logan could say anything, such as he was just leaving, Virginia smiled brightly and said, “But of course you’ll stay for dinner, will you not?”

  Mairi glanced at him but he only smiled at her as if he were enjoying the entire situation.

  “I anticipate meeting your husband,” he said. “I’ve heard a great deal about Mr. Sinclair.”

  She sent him another look, but Logan ignored her, exchanging smiles with Virginia.

  Mairi wanted to close her eyes and magically transport herself somewhere else. Anywhere else, even back to Edinburgh.

  Logan stood at one side of the fireplace with Macrath on the other. He was taller than her brother, with a build that made Macrath looked almost frail in comparison. She had the disloyal thought that Logan could pin Macrath easily in a brawl.

  Dear God, don’t let it come to that.

  With any luck, Logan would keep silent about what had happened in Edinburgh. Would he?

  If Macrath was surprised by the arrival of so august a personage as the Lord Provost of Edinburgh, he didn’t betray it by word or deed. Instead, he was himself, only more so. More affable, more relaxed, and more intense in the looks he sent her. She was under no illusions. The minute Logan was out of earshot, she was going to be interrogated, she was sure of it.

  She sat in silence as Macrath and Logan talked about some obscure act in Edinburgh. When he had her brother become so politically minded? For that matter, when had Logan become a courtier?

  This was the man she’d heard about, the one who smiled so charmingly, who laughed at the right time, and complimented his hostess until Virginia blushed. Each of the maids tried to catch his eye, and even Brianag had softened toward him.

  Mairi almost threw her hands up in the air in exasperation.

  Since it appeared as if Logan had been accepted into the bosom of the family, she was surprised they didn’t enter the smaller, and more intimate, family dining room.

  But Ellice had been escorted into the formal dining room by Logan, following Macrath and Virginia. Mairi was accompanied by Enid, who was curling her lip in preparation for yet another battle with Brianag.

  The first course was Kinloch skink, a fish soup that was one of Macrath’s favorite dishes. She couldn’t help but remember the potato soup she’d eaten at Logan’s house. From his quick glance, he remembered as well.

  Would this meal never be done?

  “How is it that you know Mairi?” Virginia was asking.

  Mairi met her brother’s eyes, then shifted her gaze to Logan.

  “She wrote a scurrilous broadside about me,” he said easily. “I objected, naturally.
”

  Virginia looked over at her.

  “It’s true,” she said, placing her spoon on the edge of the bowl. “I did.”

  Since that part of the story was common knowledge, she didn’t have any reluctance to comment on it. The rest, please God, let the rest remain a secret.

  “Of course I was mistaken. The Lord Provost is the epitome of all things good and proper.”

  Macrath shot her a look, and she almost stuck her tongue out at him.

  Logan laughed, further charming all the females at the table, including Enid, but with a sole exception—her. She was not going to be charmed by the man again.

  Look what had happened the last time. She’d been charmed right out of her clothes.

  Virginia looked like she was striving to come up with another topic. Because Mairi felt some measure of compassion for her sister-in-law, she decided to participate in the conversation.

  “I am attempting to convince the Lord Provost that women should be treated with some degree of equality,” she said. “He is reviewing the matter.”

  Macrath stared at her. Logan smiled. Virginia’s eyes were wide.

  “Isn’t that so, Provost Harrison?”

  “I’ve always believed there are times when women should be on top,” he said.

  Mairi almost choked on her wine.

  “You said your housekeeper has a reputation for being a healer,” Logan said, turning to Macrath.

  Her brother nodded. “She does. Do you have need of her services?”

  “A small rash,” Logan said. “A carpet abrasion, I believe.”

  She sent him a fulminating glance, which he promptly ignored.

  “Tell me, Mrs. Sinclair,” Logan said, looking at Virginia, “how do you feel about kilts?”

  She was going to kill him.

  Virginia looked from Logan to Mairi. A slow smile blossomed on her face. “I believe there’s no more stirring a sight, Mr. Harrison, than a Scot in a kilt.”

  “Are you all right?” Ellice asked, leaning over and touching Mairi’s hand.

  Mairi smiled at her. “I’m fine,” she said, pasting a determined smile on her lips. She avoided the looks of the other people at the table, namely Logan and Macrath, both of whom glanced in her direction.

  “You will stay the night,” Virginia was saying, to her horror. “After all, it’s beginning to snow.”

  Even the weather was conspiring against her. What kind of horrible person would she be not to offer him hospitality? Of course he had to stay. With any luck, a blizzard wouldn’t keep him trapped at Drumvagen for a week.

  The thought was enough to make her close her eyes.

  For the rest of the dinner she was silent. Everyone else laughed and joked, but Mairi decided it would be better if she simply retreated from the field of battle, especially since it was obvious Logan had won that skirmish.

  Macrath took one look at his wife, shut the door to their suite, and swept her up into his arms.

  “Were we as foolish?” he asked.

  “Oh yes,” she said. “Perhaps a little more so.”

  “I refuse to believe it. Mairi’s not herself,” he said. “I’ve never seen my sister so . . .” His words trailed off.

  Virginia laughed. “She’s ten times herself. I’ve never seen her more annoyed. Or alive, for that matter. You aren’t going to talk to her about him, are you?”

  Now, he pulled back and looked at her.

  “Why not?”

  “Two reasons. We didn’t exactly act in a virtuous manner, Macrath. We are not shining examples of how to behave. Mairi would pin your ears back for your hypocrisy. Secondly, she’s madly in love and not at all happy about it.”

  “Maybe I should include that in the Sinclair motto,” he said. “The Sinclair Clan: struggling against love.”

  “Oh, but the end result is so worth it,” she said, laying her cheek against his chest and sighing happily.

  Dinner had been a disaster.

  What was worse, every time she caught Virginia’s eye, her sister-in-law smiled.

  Was it as obvious as that? Did the whole world know how easily Logan could reduce her to foolishness?

  Mairi waited until Drumvagen settled down around her. Only then did she open the door of her bedchamber, a guest room that had been permanently allocated as hers, and slip down the corridor to the room Logan had been given.

  One tap on the door was all it took before it opened and she was inside. She stepped back before he could get the wrong idea, keeping the door halfway between them.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be in Edinburgh being Lord Provost?” she whispered.

  “Yes, I am,” he whispered back. “But would you have me be rude and refuse your sister-in-law’s gracious invitation?”

  “Yes.” The word came out as a hiss. “You have to leave.”

  “I was planning on doing so tomorrow morning,” he said, folding his arms and leaning against the door. “Of course, if you wish, I can always leave now. In the dark. In the snow.”

  “There was no need to come to Drumvagen.”

  “You left Edinburgh without a word to me.”

  She stared at him, wishing he were more than a shadow in the darkness.

  “Am I required to obtain your permission for whatever I do?”

  “Not permission, lass. Only explanation. You were gone when I called on you. I was concerned.”

  “You called on me?” she asked. “Why?”

  “Maybe I missed you.”

  She was almost as frightened of him now as she was of the men who’d attacked her. They could only wound her body. Logan could shatter her heart.

  “How is your search for a wife going?” she asked.

  He placed his finger on her cheek, trailed a path to her chin, then tapped it lightly. “Did you come to my room to ask me that, lass? Or is it more you’re looking for?”

  She took a step back.

  “I’ve been thinking of your kisses,” he said. “Wondering if I imagined them. Would you care to give me a taste?”

  She shook her head.

  His laugh would wake all the inhabitants of Drumvagen.

  When she said as much, he chuckled. “Perhaps they’re awake already. Perhaps they’re doing what I would like to.”

  He took a step toward her, and she took a step back. Irritated, she stood her ground when he took another step in her direction.

  “Have you always been a satyr?” she asked.

  “I’ve been remarkably celibate until you,” he said. “I’ve not been able to get that night out of my mind, however.”

  She was not going to tell him she felt the same.

  “This is my brother’s home,” she said.

  “And so you’ll not be indulging in wickedness, is that it?”

  “That’s it exactly,” she said, both grateful that he understood and a little disappointed that he didn’t try to convince her otherwise.

  “Not even a kiss? You could pretend that you and I are just friends. Perhaps old friends who have not seen each other for a while. It will start very friendly, almost passionless. If you want to deepen it, you’ll need to let me know.”

  “I don’t think that would be the wisest idea,” she said, knowing how volatile they were around each other.

  “What about an embrace? I will hold you in my arms, loosely, like this,” he said. Suddenly he was there, enveloping her like a cloud. His arms wrapped around her, but loose enough to give her room to escape.

  He bent his head, rested his cheek against her hair. “I’ll just hold you like this,” he said. “Feel you pliant in my arms and wonder what you would feel like in a nightgown and wrapper.”

  “Please,” she said, and it was the one word she hadn’t expected to say, the one word that silenced him.

  Long moments later he dropped his arms and stepped back. “Perhaps it would be best if you said good-night now,” he said. “And leave me.”

  She didn’t want to. Did he know how much she didn’t wa
nt to?

  But she did, finally, turning and nearly scurrying down the hall before she could change her mind and stay.

  Chapter 23

  In the morning Mairi slipped out the back door, heading for one of her favorite spots at Drumvagen, the gazebo.

  At dawn Drumvagen’s forest had been a wonderland of icicles and ice encrusted branches. Now the air was slowly warming and the incessant drip, drip, drip on the decaying leaves was an oddly sad sound, as if the trees wept.

  Drumvagen was easily ten times the size of her Edinburgh home. Macrath must have plans for filling it with children. Since he’d already begun at that task, she didn’t doubt he’d be successful.

  Until Macrath married, she’d never felt odd about being his older, unmarried sister. After Calvin rebuffed her, she hadn’t given much thought to marriage. Or perhaps she’d known, somehow, that she wasn’t the type to settle down to a union of wedded bliss.

  She wasn’t, as Calvin had said, “conformable.” She didn’t fit in. She wasn’t like other women. She’d considered that a badge of honor. Seeing her brother so happy, knowing that his love for his wife had added to his life, made her examine her own in greater detail. Was she missing something by being so independent? Were other people happier?

  She was happy. Or if not happy, she was certainly content, at least until she’d met Logan. She enjoyed her work, wanted to get to the paper every morning. She enjoyed pulling together the various stories people submitted, including those she paid to use from her small staff of reporters. She thought she’d done a good job with the paper.

  Was it enough?

  She’d never before asked herself that question.

  “I was told I might find you here.”

  She didn’t turn, didn’t face him. How could she, when she’d come to Drumvagen to escape him?

  “I thought you would have left this morning. At dawn,” she said. “Without a word to anyone, satisfied that you’d done what you came to do.”

  “What was that?”

  She held tightly to one of the pillars of the gazebo, feeling the wood give beneath the pressure of her fingers.

  “To make me miserable. To make me question my own mind. To make me regret.”