by Multiple
“No. I need to stay. This diary…it’s something special. But you find out everything you can about this bastard.”
“Okay, but if you do not check in daily with us, I will show up there.”
She smiled. “Put your wife back on the line.”
Her friend didn’t waste her time. “We will be there tomorrow. You will come home with us, and Roberto will put you in his dungeon.”
“Roberto has a dungeon?” she asked, her tongue in her cheek. Her friend’s husband owned a castle in Spain, but she was pretty sure the dungeon wasn’t something still used. “Amazing, I never knew you were into bondage.”
“Stop that. I am not going to be sidetracked. I want you here. I want you safe.”
The worry in her friend’s voice was strangely comforting. Until Izzy, no one had really worried about her before. “You’re being ridiculous. I am in no danger. I’ll just not answer any phone calls from McWalton. I will cut off all contact. I’ll finish my job here and head back to England in a few weeks. Why don’t we get together after I’m done? I’ll pop over to the continent, and we’ll spend Roberto’s money.”
Izzy sighed. “You’re not leaving.”
“Nope.”
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you and this Lennon character?”
“Which one? I mean, there are so many of them, I can’t keep up.”
“If I thought you would do it, I would cheer you on and encourage you to have an affair with four men.”
“You’re the only one I know who’d think I could actually handle that.”
“Just be careful. Please.”
“I will. In fact, I think I’ll head out tonight, have something to eat. I need to get away and think.”
“Call me tomorrow.”
“I will. Love you, Izzy. Thanks.”
“Don’t make me come get you.”
After ringing off, Phoebe sat on her bed and took stock of the room. This was a right bloody mess, and she knew she was partly to blame. She would finish her work, and she would go home. No more contact with McWalton. The need to shove it in her parents’ face wasn’t as important as staying away from a man who could not be trusted.
Maybe she needed to do more than just ignore him. Maybe she needed to cut off their association. Just thinking about the fact he had encouraged her study of the diary made her sick. And angry. The fact that McWalton had used her for some kind of odd vendetta against the Lennons…it was just not right.
She dialed his number before she could give it a second thought. When his voicemail picked up, she wanted to scream. At the beep she said, “Mr. McWalton, this is Dr. Chilton. I am sorry to say that our association is over. I see no reason to go for the grant, and what I have will probably not work out anyway. Thanks so much for including me.”
She said nothing else before ringing off. She wanted to throw her bloody phone across the room, but what would that solve? Nothing. It would only leave her without a way to communicate and then Izzy would show up to find out what had happened to her.
With a sigh, she glanced outside and knew she had a few hours until dinnertime, but she decided she needed some time alone. A hot bath and then dinner out would clear her head and help her decide just what the hell she would and would not tell the Lennons.
And she would pretend for the second time in a week she hadn’t been such an idiot.
* * * *
“So, McWalton has disappeared?” Callum asked.
Fletcher smiled. “More like gone into his crumbling mansion to lick his wounds. I’m not sure what the bastard is up to, but I think you might have scared him.”
“How do we even know he’s up to something?” Angus asked. “He’s a prick, so there’s a very good chance he just wanted to mess with you, Callum.”
Callum nodded as he looked out the window. “That’s the truth. He bears watching, but since there doesn’t seem to be any contact between him and Dr. Chilton, I guess she’s okay.”
There was a beat of silence that had him glancing over his shoulder. “What?”
Fletcher shrugged. “Nothing. Just something in your voice.”
“Something in my voice?”
“He’s been attracted to her since the beginning. It makes sense that he’d be happy she wasn’t involved with that jackass,” Angus offered. The smile he was sporting told Callum they were fucking with him. Normally, he would put up with it. But he wasn’t in the mood. For days now, he’d felt as if he had been inside out. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep, and he spent most days thinking about the woman who was keeping him up at night. In more ways than one.
“So, we have nothing. I’m off. I’ve a date in Edinburgh.” Callum said.
Fletcher gave him a look that told Callum he knew he was lying. He knew his cousins wanted to discuss his odd behavior, but he wasn’t in the mood, didn’t know if he would ever be in the mood.
“Make sure you behave yourself,” Fletcher said as Callum headed for the door.
“One of us has to, Fletcher.”
With that, he slipped away, happy to be free of their study. He grabbed his coat and his keys. Before long, he was driving down the long path away from the house, away from the inquiring glances all four of his cousins had given him over the last few days. He knew he had them worried if they were tiptoeing around him—other than the argument with Anice. Maybe, if he rung up Calista, she would give him another chance. She hadn’t called him since the embarrassment a few weeks ago, although she had left it opened. But even the thought of calling her had him sick to his stomach.
Phoebe. One time and he was hooked. Every day he battled his good sense with his need to be near her. Being in the same room was killing him. Hell, being in the same massive house was killing him. Every night his body told him to go to her room, be with her, be near her. Working on little to no sleep was going to be the death of him.
Maybe a night away, a meal, some sleep, and he would feel better. He turned his car in the direction of The Witchery and hoped he could fetch a table.
A half hour later, he was following the maître d’ down the stairs into The Secret Garden room. When he reached the bottom, he saw her, sitting in the corner alone. Phoebe always seemed so alone, even in a crowded room. She was reading a book and completely oblivious to everything around her. Unable to help himself, he stopped the waiter and walked over to her table. It took her a moment to realize he was standing there. When she looked up at him, he almost laughed. Her expression told him that she wasn’t happy to see him there.
“I didn’t know you’d left tonight.”
She looked behind him, then back to him. “I didn’t know I had to clear my comings and goings.”
He hated to hear the defensive tone in her voice. “I didn’t mean it that way. I just didn’t expect to see you here. Are you eating alone?”
She nodded. When he raised his eyebrows, she sighed. “Would you like to join me?”
He smiled. “I would love to join you, Dr. Chilton.”
After he settled in the chair across from her, she closed her book and started to put it away.
“Can I be rude and ask you what you’re reading?”
She shrugged. “It’s just a novel.”
She slipped it into her oversized purse as if embarrassed.
“You act like you’ve been caught breaking the law.”
Her gaze flew up to his and slid away. “Reading novels was not highly encouraged in my family.”
He wanted to ask her more, but the server interrupted and asked him for his order. After they were alone, he asked, “So, you didn’t read a lot of novels as a child? No tales of Pooh for you?”
The sad smile she gave him almost broke his heart. “No. My parents wanted me to concentrate on my studies.”
“I’m not talking about later, but when you were in primary.”
She shook her head. “I was never in a regular school. My parents either schooled
me themselves or hired tutors.”
He wanted to ask more again, but her expression told him he didn’t have a right. He had lost it when he’d treated her so callously. He bit back the sigh of regret as they were served their appetizers.
“I was surprised to see you here,” he said conversationally.
“I could tell that by your question.” Humor threaded her voice. And, unwilling to break the blank feeling, he smiled and allowed the conversation to stay light. He wanted to pretend, if only for one night, that they were a couple.
Phoebe drew in a deep breath as she walked down the sidewalk. The chill in the air cleared her head of the atmosphere Callum had created. It had been just a bit too cozy to sit in the romantic setting in The Witchery with a handsome man like Callum. She needed the icy air to pull her out of the fantasy.
“How did you get in to town?”
She glanced at him. “Belvidore drove me.”
He frowned at that. “He didn’t tell me.”
She laughed. “Does he tell you all his movements?”
As if on cue, the Lennon sedan rolled forward.
“He is always on time and ready for anything, isn’t he?” she asked.
“For as long as I can remember.”
She smiled at him and was about to make a comment when the squeal of tires cut through the stillness of the night. Before she could comprehend what was happening, a car pulled in front of Belvidore. The passenger window slid down halfway. Then Callum grabbed her by the arms and shoved her behind him. An explosion of shots followed his action, and they were both thrown back against the fence. Her head smacked against the pavement as they fell. Bright sparks of light flashed before her eyes as she blinked. Callum was on top of her but he wasn’t moving much. A flurry of footsteps sounded beside them and someone lifted Callum away from her. She sat up and almost threw up.
“Please, Dr. Chilton, hurry. You must come.”
She blinked again, trying to clear the stars sparking before her eyes. Hands wrapped around her upper arms. Fear had her fighting, but soon she realized Belvidore was shaking her.
“Come, now, we have to get to safety,” he said as he dragged her to the sedan. She stumbled behind him and then practically fell into the car. Her brain was finally working as Belvidore slammed the door. She sat up and found Callum sitting on the bench seat next to her, slumped against the window.
“Callum?”
His eyes were closed. He didn’t respond. She reached out and pushed aside his coat jacket. She gasped when she saw that blood was already soaking through the once pristine white shirt.
“Take this,” Belvidore shouted. He tossed a towel over the seat. “Press down on the wound.”
She did as he ordered even though her hands were shaking. When she looked up, Phoebe noticed that Belvidore turned on a road that took them away from town and toward the house.
“We need to go to the hospital.”
“No. I can take care of the laird at the house.”
At first her brain wouldn’t function, and when it did, she was horrified. “Are you insane? Do you even know how to take care of a bullet wound?”
“It won’t be the first time, doctor. The Lennon has been hurt more than once. Don’t worry. He’s been through worse.”
A hand settled on top of hers, and she looked down. Callum’s ice blue eyes were barely open.
“Listen to him, love. He’s never let me down in all the years I’ve known him.”
His eyelids slid shut, but his hand remained on top of hers. Knowing she couldn’t stop the trusted servant from his mission, she kept her hand pressed down on Callum’s wound and prayed he would survive until they made it back to the house.
Chapter Eight
The front door to the mansion was already open with people pouring out of it. So many lights were lit it looked almost as if the house was on fire. People were shouting, yelling orders, but Phoebe couldn’t move. She kept her hands against Callum’s chest and she kept watching him to make sure he was still breathing.
Phoebe barely noticed as Belvidore stopped and the door was pulled open. The rush of cold air hit her before she felt large hands wrap around her upper arms and start to pull her away.
“No,” she shouted as panic and fear started to clog her throat. She had to keep the pressure on his chest or he would bleed out.
“It’ll be okay, love,” Logan said as he dragged her into his arms and away from Callum. “We have him.”
Angus was already grabbing Callum and pulling him from the back of the car.
“Careful,” she warned, her voice catching. “He’s been shot multiple times.”
Anice stepped in front of Phoebe and grabbed her hands.
“Look at me,” Anice said as she squeezed Phoebe’s hands. It took her a moment or two to focus on Anice’s face. “Let’s get in. It still isn’t safe out here in the open. All of us. Callum cannot get help if we are out here.”
Her brain was moving slowly, but it finally hit her that Anice was right. They didn’t know who the threat was or where the man who shot them was. Callum was bleeding and the sooner she got inside, the sooner she could call for help.
She nodded and allowed Logan to pull her up the steps and into the foyer. Phoebe tried to hurry up behind the cousins, but Logan handed her off to Anice.
“Come with me, Phoebe. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
She shook her head, her concentration on Callum’s lifeless figure as Angus carried him up the steps to the front door. “I’m not hurt.”
“No,” Anice said gently. “But you have Callum’s blood all over you.”
She glanced down at her silk blouse and felt bile clog her throat. Her head started to spin. Red was splattered across her chest and stomach and all over her skirt. She looked at her hands, and the room started to spin around her.
“No you don’t, Phoebe.” Anice’s hands tightened on her arms. “Let’s go.”
Anice dragged her up the stairs to her room. Phoebe felt like she was floating almost, as if she weren’t even there. They were in her room before she could voice any objections. For a few moments, she stood there, unable to function. The fear of the last few moments had dissolved leaving her in a state of numbness. It was as if it were all a dream.
“Phoebe?”
She shook herself and tried to focus on Anice.
“Love, we have to get you undressed.”
Phoebe nodded, still unable to speak. Anice pulled off her clothes, discarding them with little care. Normally, Phoebe would object, but for once, she didn’t give a bloody damn.
“Go take a shower,” Anice said, her voice still gentle as if dealing with a broken child.
Phoebe didn’t move. She thought about it, but she couldn’t seem to get her body to respond to her thoughts.
“Phoebe, go. Get cleaned up. Then we can check on Callum.”
At the mention of his name, Phoebe was pulled out of the stupor that had shrouded her since they’d gotten to her room. The horrifying incident came back to her with sickening intensity. The explosion of the gun, the screech of the tires, Callum saving her life.
“I have to see him.” She needed to touch him, to know that he was still alive. If he wasn’t, she didn’t know what she would do.
Anice laid her hands on Phoebe’s shoulders and gave her a little shake. “Yes. But you’re in your knickers and need to take a shower. Go, and I will take you to him when you’re cleaned up.”
She drew in a deep breath and nodded. Still as if she were in a dream, she walked to the bathroom, closed the door then turned on the water. She sat on the edge of the tub, still numb to what had happened. As soon as the water was warm enough, she stripped out of the rest of her clothes and stepped into it. The heat of the shower had her returning to the living. Throughout the ten-minute shower, she scrubbed her skin raw, but no matter what she did, she still felt dirty. The sob caught her by surprise. Before she knew it, she was crying
, crouched down in the tub, unable to stop.
“Phoebe?” Anice said.
Embarrassed, she pulled herself together enough to answer. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? You don’t sound fine.”
“I’ll be worse if you see me naked in the shower.”
Anice chuckled. “Alright. I’ll be right outside.”
She turned off the water and went through the motions of drying herself off then getting dressed in the clothes that Anice had left her. By the time she opened the door, she had prepared herself for what lay ahead. Whatever that turned out to be.
“Okay, I’m ready.”
Anice studied her for a second then nodded. “Let’s go.”
It only took a few minutes to get to the family wing of the huge mansion, but it seemed like an eternity. With every step, she had to fight the urge to run down the hall.
Anice knocked on the door. Phoebe wanted to scream, to tell her to just burst in, but her upbringing had her quelling the need. The door opened almost instantly. Logan offered her an easy smile.
“He’s fine.”
She shook her head and brushed past him. She didn’t need anyone sugar coating it for her. All the cousins were there, along with Belvidore, who was telling Callum he needed to drink something. The room was massive, but she barely noticed. She rushed to Belvidore’s side. Callum was bare chested, a white bandage covering his wounds. She knew he wasn’t recovered, but relief filled her when she realized that he really was not dead.
“How is he? How did you get him patched up so fast?”
“He’s fine, miss, and I’m an old hand at this. Most of his wounds were just bluster. Bullets passed right through. I called a doctor to get antibiotics. He needs to take this for the pain, though, and he’s being stubborn.”
She looked down and found him watching her from half-closed eyes. “I doona need it.”
Phoebe could see the pain in his eyes. Irritation had her grabbing the glass out of Belvidore’s hand.
