Billie hit the table with the palm of her hand. “Listen, I’m sitting at a pub just trying to have a drink and a friendly conversation. I’m not looking for a proposal of marriage. So thanks for your concern, Mr. Fletcher, but since the conversation’s not friendly anymore, I’d appreciate it if you’d leave.”
Neither man moved. For a moment Billie expected one to take a swing at the other. Then Jeremy twitched his shoulders to straighten his coat and moved around Andrew. Billie watched him settle at the far end of the bar.
“I don’t know what that was all about, but I could have done without it,” she told Andrew.
Andrew lounged across from her again. “I’m sorry, but he’d be a good chap to stay away from.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Oh really? I suppose I’ve just got to quit sending out all these signals that I’m on the prowl. Maybe it’s the way I dress.” She looked down at her faded jeans and bulky red sweater, then up at him again. “Or maybe in Druidheachd a woman can’t sit in a pub without giving every man in it the wrong idea?”
Andrew leaned forward. He wrinkled his brow, but his eyes danced. “Billie, does this mean you will no’ be coming home with me tonight?”
She couldn’t help herself. She burst into laughter.
“I almost hate to break in.”
Billie looked up to find a new man standing over her. She didn’t know whether to smile at him—under normal circumstances, he would have been a man to smile at immediately—or throw her arms over her head for protection.
“I’m Duncan Sinclair.” He held out his hand.
She extended hers warily. Duncan’s steel gray eyes were doing a quick but thorough investigation of her. “An American?” she asked, judging from his accent.
“Right. And a Scot. This is my hotel.”
She remembered Flora’s words. Duncan’s father was the innkeeper. She looked straight at Andrew. “Is this the Duncan of men of midnight fame? Is that why you left? To bring him over here? And are you the Andrew? You can’t weasel out of it this time. You owe me a straight answer for almost embroiling me in your little feud with Jeremy Fletcher.”
Duncan made a place for himself at the table. “So, we were born at the same time. It means nothing.”
“Duncan thinks that the villagers make much of it because they’ve nowt better to think about,” Andrew said.
“And what do you think?” she asked.
“I think Iain just walked in.”
Duncan muttered something under his breath as Billie turned. Iain stood framed in the doorway. Her heart did a Charlie Chaplin skip. She watched him scan the room until his eyes settled on her. She didn’t smile, and she didn’t breathe.
“Damn, he’s coming over here,” Duncan said.
Billie didn’t take her eyes off Iain. “I thought the three of you were friends? Don’t tell me you’re having a fight and I’m caught in the middle of this one, too.”
“No.”
“Dunc’s never understood his place in the scheme of things here,” Andrew said.
“What place, and what scheme of things?” she asked.
“They’re doing it,” Duncan said.
“Doing what?” Billie reluctantly tore her gaze from Iain and looked around. The only thing that seemed out of the ordinary was that the crowd around them had thinned, probably just to let Iain through. “Who’s doing what?”
“Billie, what are you doing here?” Iain asked.
She gazed up at him and couldn’t think of a word in her own defense.
He frowned at her. “You’re supposed to be resting.”
“I am, unless you count nearly provoking a fistfight.”
“Pull up a chair, Lord Ross,” Duncan said. “I’ll stand for a drink.”
Iain pulled up a chair beside Billie. She noted that he had his pick of chairs. Everyone in the vicinity seemed to have moved away. “Where’s everybody gone?” she asked. “Is it time for their favorite TV program or something?”
Duncan muttered under his breath and signaled for a drink for Iain.
Iain folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. “We’re a superstitious lot,” he said.
“And?”
“And sometimes it gets the better of us.”
She watched the way his gaze roamed over her. She wished that she had done something short of plastic surgery to make herself more attractive tonight. “Would someone please tell me what’s going on?”
“There are those who believe that together the three of us have power,” Andrew said. “And they’d prefer no’ to be near in case we decide to use it.”
She contemplated that. “Power? Supernatural power?”
“It’s not that well-defined,” Iain said. “Let’s just say that the unknown has its own kind of power.”
“Medieval curses and magical births and black clouds.” She whistled softly. “Mysterious creatures in the loch. And yesterday someone told me that there’s a local ghost who warns people of danger. My Lady Somebody-or-Other.”
“Don’t believe any of it,” Duncan said.
“Duncan’s the resident skeptic,” Andrew said. “And sensitive about ghosts, considering that his lady love…” He laughed at the way Duncan narrowed his eyes. “I’ll say no more.”
Billie filed that exchange away to investigate at another time. “What an odd and wonderful place this is.”
“Then you don’t find us ridiculous?” Iain asked.
She sensed much behind the question. “That would be the last word I would use.”
He shifted his weight, and suddenly they were nearly nose-to-nose. “Maybe you should run away, too, Billie. Perhaps the others have the right idea. You’re sitting here with the mysterious men of midnight, and you have no idea where it might lead. If you stay in Druidheachd, you might find out.”
“I’m beginning to think you’d like me to leave. Is it because I told you that if I stay, there’ll be no secrets that are safe, not yours, and not anyone’s?”
“And yours, Billie? We all have secrets. You’ll be no different.”
The other two men were silent. Billie knew they were watching, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from Iain’s. “Not me. I’m an open book.”
He reached for her hand. She hadn’t even realized hers was cold until he’d enclosed it in his. “Are you? Or do you reveal so much about yourself because you don’t want anyone to look beneath the surface?”
She couldn’t answer. For once in her life, she really couldn’t answer.
Andrew answered for her. “This one’s different, Iain,” he said. There was no laughter in his voice. “And she deserves better than you’re going to give her.”
“Are you by chance warning me?” Iain asked without taking his eyes off Billie. “Or are you declaring your own intentions?”
“Wait a minute.” Billie pulled her hand from Iain’s. “I must really have more to recover from than I thought. I’m kind of slow on the uptake tonight, but I’m catching on. Are you two arguing over me? Because you’re way out of your league. I’ve chewed up and spat out better men than both of you.”
When neither one answered, she stood. “I think I’ll call it a night before anything else goes wrong.” She rounded the table and started toward the door, but halfway across the room she felt a hand on her shoulder. Without looking, she knew it was Iain’s.
“It’s late, and it’s dark. Let me take you home.”
“I’m walking, thanks. You stay and fight with Andrew.”
“We weren’t fighting.” His lips were very close to her ear. In the midst of the noisy pub his words were for her alone. “He was warning you, Billie. He doesn’t like my record with women.”
She faced him. “Your record has nothing to do with me. You pulled me out of a lake. You didn’t offer for my hand in marriage or proposition me—although, come to think of it, you did strip me naked. But you don’t owe me anything more, Iain. You can wave at me when you see me crossing the street, and that can be that.”
>
His face was inscrutable, his words even more so. “I’m beginning to understand the past.”
“What are you talking about?”
“A man and a woman and eight hundred years of hell.”
“If I could get one straight answer tonight, just one, I’d be a happy woman.”
He dropped his hand.
She waited for him to say something more, but clearly he thought he had already said too much. “Good night, Iain.” When she looked back from the doorway he was sitting with his friends again. Not one of them was smiling.
CHAPTER 4
“She’s way out of her league.” Andrew downed a dram before he turned to stare at Iain. “She has no idea, does she, Iain, how irresistible you can be?”
Iain didn’t want to respond, but something goaded him. “I don’t believe I asked for your assessment of my effect on women.”
“No’ on women. On one woman. I like Billie. She’s fresh and original, and she has no guile. I can no’ see what you find so engaging, since she’s everything you’ve always stayed far away from.”
“Are you trying to annoy me?”
“No. I can annoy you without trying.”
Duncan brought his fist down on the table just hard enough to get their attention. Iain turned to look at him. “Are you going to add your piece, Dunc?”
“We’ve managed all these years not to fight over women. Why start now?”
“Aye. Why?” Iain asked. “I can see just as clearly as you, Andrew. And I’ve no wish to ruin Billie’s life.” Andrew didn’t answer. Iain leaned toward him. “Shall I stay away from her, then?”
“No’ on my account.” Andrew shook his head. “But for God’s sake, Iain, tread carefully.”
Iain felt a surprising trickle of relief. He had more than his share of reasons for not pursuing Billie Harper, but he was glad that Andrew didn’t plan to, either. And he was afraid to examine that more closely.
“Fletcher’s leaving,” Duncan said. “And I hope he doesn’t find his way here again for a while. Brian tells me he had to step between him and another man last night. I remember he was always trouble when we were kids.”
“Fletcher?” Iain turned toward the door. “Jeremy Fletcher?”
“Yeah. The one and only.”
“So he’s back.” It took Iain a moment to spot him. Fletcher had stopped on his way out the door to talk to another patron. One glance at the back of his head and Iain felt a familiar knot tightening in his gut.
“Whenever Fletcher’s back in the village I yearn for the old days,” Andrew said. “There was a time when a man could be driven away for good and forced to find a new home.”
“Aye, the good old days.” Iain forced himself to look away from Fletcher. “When a man’s tongue could be cut out or his eyes gouged. When we weighted women with stones and threw them in Loch Ceo to determine if they were witches.”
“Dinna get on your high horse. I’m no’ a vigilante. I’ll take our present day system of justice, too, but Fletcher brings out something primitive in me.”
“You’d have been a sight in belted plaid with your claymore and dirk,” Duncan said. “I shudder.”
“He has his eye on Billie,” Andrew said.
“What did you say?” Iain snapped to attention.
“I was sitting here with her, and I got up to get Duncan. When I came back he’d taken my place, and I did no’ like the way he was looking at her.”
Iain told himself that Billie was safe. It was a pleasant stroll to Flora Daniels’ cottage, less than a quarter of a mile. The way was not well lighted, but neither was it deserted. Dark had settled in hours ago, but it was early enough that people would still be up, eating late suppers or watching their favorite programs. All Billie had to do was shout….
She had nearly drowned without so much as a call for help.
He cursed under his breath and stood.
“So, you’re going after her,” Andrew said.
“You knew I would. You can’t have it both ways, Andrew. Which shall it be? Am I to be Billie’s savior or her destruction?”
Andrew shrugged. “You’d be the one to know that, Iain. I’ve no way of telling, do I? I’d say you’ve both inside you. Now we have only to wait and watch to find out which emerges victorious.”
* * *
She would never learn to pace herself. Billie had hardly gone a block before she realized how badly she had overdone it today. The next time she nearly drowned, she would consider it a good morning’s work and take the rest of the day off.
Wind was howling like the drone of a bagpipe, gusting between houses and bending leafless saplings nearly to the ground. She pulled her jacket tighter and tried to concentrate on the exotic flavor of the experience. She was in Scotland, in the tiny village of her ancestors, and she was experiencing what they must have experienced a thousand times.
She was beginning to understand why there were no more MacFarlanes in Druidheachd.
“May I walk with you?”
Her heart beat faster at the unexpected male voice from the shadows behind her. She faced what she thought was the right direction and found Jeremy Fletcher. “Lord, you really startled me!”
“Thinking about something important, were you?”
“I was thinking how cold it is. I’ve got a new understanding of windchill tonight.” She started back down the walkway, and he joined her.
“You’re making an early evening of it,” he said.
“Funny. I was just thinking it was a late evening. It feels like midnight.”
“Do you walk alone often? I should think that’s not suitable in most American cities.”
“I’ve never been hurt or threatened. I use discretion.” She wondered if she should have used some tonight. After his encounter with Andrew at the pub, she wasn’t sure she liked Jeremy Fletcher, and she wished he hadn’t followed her.
“I’m surprised that Iain or Andrew didn’t offer to bring you home.”
“Iain did, but this seemed perfectly safe. I hope I wasn’t wrong,” she added pointedly.
“Oh, I don’t know. I’m not certain that a woman alone is safe anywhere in the world. Even in a place as remote as Druidheachd.”
“Then it’s good I know how to take care of myself, isn’t it?”
“Do you? Have you studied self-defense?”
“Never needed to.”
“Curious. I’m surprised, really. You Americans always seem to be preparing for the worst.”
“I didn’t say I was unprepared.” Billie knew they had reached the most deserted stretch between the hotel and Flora’s house. The last house she’d passed was already a good ways behind her, and ahead was a small footbridge that crossed the picturesque burn that meandered through the village. From here the route climbed steadily, bordered by woods for a hundred yards or so before more houses appeared.
Billie stopped and faced Jeremy. “Shall we part ways now? I’m sure you didn’t mean to go this far, and I’m afraid I’m too tired to be much company.”
Jeremy put his hand on her arm. “Your company is desirable, conversation or no conversation.”
Billie took a step backward, but she didn’t take her eyes off him. “Let’s cut to the chase, Jeremy. I’d like to be alone now. I just want to go home and go to sleep. We can take a walk some other time.”
“I’ll assume that if I was Iain Ross, you might feel differently?”
“You can assume anything you want as long as we say goodnight here.” She was aware that his hand still lingered on her sleeve. She waited for him to remove it.
His fingers played over her arm. “What is it about Iain, do you suppose, that attracts so many women? Because there have been many, mind you. More than you could possibly count.”
“I’m not sure why we’re talking about Iain.” She took another step backward, even though she didn’t want him to think she was retreating. “I don’t know him much better than I know you. And what he does and who he does it with
are no concerns of mine.”
“Do you know how wealthy he is?”
“Sure. I asked him for a detailed accounting in our first five minutes together. Would you please take your hand off my arm?”
He smiled and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. “You Americans are always in such a hurry. There’s no reason to rush off.”
“Sure there is.” She relaxed her arm and moved closer to him. As his grip relaxed, she twisted her wrist sharply and freed herself. “Good night, Mr. Fletcher.”
“You’ve a way to go as a goodwill ambassador.”
“And you’ve a way to go as a gracious host. Now that we’ve set diplomacy back a century or two, let’s call it a night.” She didn’t want to turn her back on him, and she didn’t want to back away. She remained where she was, tensed and ready for anything, and hoped that he would give up and leave.
He clamped a hand on her shoulder, and his fingernails dug into her flesh. “Not without a kiss.”
“Try it and I’ll bite your nose off.”
He actually looked taken aback. For a moment she thought she’d made her point, then his eyes narrowed and his fingers dug in harder. “Where do you think you are, girlie? There’s no one around to hear you shout, and no one to believe you later when you complain. You’re a stranger here without a friend. And I can do whatever I please.”
“You can try to do whatever you please.”
“And you think a wee slip of a lass could stop me?”
“I think this wee slip could make a good stab at it.” She didn’t take her eyes from his. “But if you just drop your hand and go away, this wee slip will forget anything ever happened here.”
“Not without a kiss.”
She knew he wanted nothing less than humiliation, and she was determined not to give it to him. She had made a vow, a recent one, that no man would ever humiliate her again. “Drop your hand or I’ll scream. There were lights on at the last house.”
He jerked her toward him, and, expecting exactly that, she swung her elbow up as he did, ramming it into his chest. He gave a surprised grunt, but he didn’t release her. His eyes narrowed, and he barred his teeth like a mad dog. “Now you’re in for it,” he gasped.
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