"Shall we?" Chancey ignored his last remark and looked at Mary.
"Of course." Mounting as Kevin had taught her, Mary managed to get in the saddle without breaking her neck. Only William's beaming face made her decide to stay mounted. Shalimar was standing perfectly, but her ears were twitching back and forth, a sign that she was alert and intelligent, Kevin had told her.
"I'm trusting my lovely Mary to you, Chancey. Take good care of her." William stepped to Mary's knee. "Soon we'll be riding the borderlands together, Mary, just like we planned. And in a few years, our children will be with us."
The image he evoked was so filled with love that Mary eased her heels into Shalimar's side and nudged her forward. She wasn't a coward; she wouldn't disappoint the man she loved.
"Have fun," Erick called.
"We will," Mary answered. As she followed Chancey and her big black mare out of the courtyard, she said a silent prayer that she'd be back alive.
Chancey kept the horses at a walk for the first half hour. She was an impressive tour guide, as William had promised. As they rode the beautiful lanes that wound around the estates— none as big or as prosperous as Mayfair— Chancey told Mary some of the history of Kelso and the most famous personality, Mary, Queen of Scots.
"Since she's your namesake, I thought you'd know more of her history," Chancey said, one eyebrow arching in a condescending manner. "History is very important to us here in the borderlands. Especially to William."
"Our future is important to me and to William," Mary corrected easily. "But I have an interest in the past. I know a great deal about Queen Mary, though I was named after my mother's favorite aunt and not a queen. But I'm not well schooled in the history of the borderlands."
"Yes, you are a product of Edinburgh. A city girl," Chancey conceded with a touch of disdain. "Mary is a beloved figure here. She suffered a terrible, tragic life."
"She was a victim of the times and her lineage." Mary spoke the words before she realized their significance. Could not the same thing be said of William? If Chancey knew the details of what was happening at Mayfair, she would no doubt draw that conclusion.
"Are you pregnant?"
Chancey's question caught Mary completely off guard. Mary turned to her, a nasty reply at the ready.
"I'm not asking because I care. I was going to propose a canter, but not if you were pregnant. Not many people get hurt in a fall, but it isn't recommended for someone who's with child. If you're carrying William's precious heir, I wouldn't risk a canter."
"I'm perfectly fine to canter," Mary said. She had to force the words out. Her temper was raging, and it took all of her control not to show it.
"I'm certain William will want to start his family as soon as possible." Chancey's eyes were bright as she swept her gaze over Mary's body. "Time is running out for him, you know."
"What are you saying?" Mary sensed that Chancey's remarks held some deeper meaning.
"Let's canter." Without a backward glance Chancey urged her horse into an easy gallop. Shalimar followed with no encouragement from Mary.
The rocking motion of the horse was terrifying to Mary, but she clutched the reins and tried to relax as Kevin had taught her. It was with a sigh of relief that she saw Chancey pull her horse back to a walk. Shalimar followed suit without any instructions.
"We're running late." Chancey nodded toward a large house clearly visible but still some distance away. "If we cut through the fields, we can eliminate about twenty minutes." She checked her watch again. "Mrs. Daugherty gets in a temper when her guests are late. I'd hate for you to make a poor impression on her at the very beginning. She's rather prominent in this area."
Mary didn't understand the dilemma. "If it's closer, then let's cut across the fields."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." Shalimar tugged at the reins and moved sideways. She was ready to be moving again.
"There are a couple of low fences."
"There's a gate, right?" Mary caught a glimpse of delight in Chancey's face.
"No. We have to jump them. But they're very small."
"Chancey, I…"
"Of course, we can go the long way. Mrs. Daugherty probably won't hold it against you. You know she never got on with William, anyway. She thought he was an ungrateful brat for trekking all over Europe instead of coming home to run Mayfair. She's already set to oppose him as much as possible."
"William wanted to come home. He didn't get along with his father." Mary rose to defend him with hot words before she'd even thought through what she should and shouldn't say. She couldn't allow Chancey to goad her. "He studied ways to improve production at Mayfair the entire time he was away," she added in a more moderate tone.
"You can explain it to me, but I'm hardly the one who cares about such things. The best thing you can do for William is show your respect to the elders of the town, but that's up to you. Now, is it the road or the fields?"
"The fields." Mary knew she was being pushed, but she couldn't make a different decision. If Mrs. Daugherty was such a dragon that she wouldn't understand how horses could interfere with a schedule…but then Mrs. Daugherty and the rest of the people would just view her as weak and unable to manage as Lady MacEachern.
Chancey put her heels to her horse's side and started across the green meadow. "Lean forward and hang on to the mane," she called over her shoulder as she allowed her horse to gather speed.
Terrified, Mary tried to lift her posterior out of the saddle as Chancey was doing, but the motion of the horse defeated her. Every few strides her bottom bounced so hard on Shalimar's back that the mare bolted forward, making a bad situation worse. "Easy, girl," she whispered, trying to soothe the horse.
The first fence came at her so suddenly that she was over it before she knew what had happened. The landing was a bit rough, but she managed. In the distance, Mrs. Daugherty's house looked no closer, and there were several fields still to go.
Chancey was thirty yards ahead and moving faster and faster. Mary tugged on the reins, trying to slow Shalimar, but the mare shook her head fiercely, nearly pulling Mary from the saddle. To save herself, Mary abandoned the reins and clutched at the horse's mane. Freed of Mary's guiding hand, Shalimar lengthened her stride to an all-out run.
Clods of soft, rich dirt were flying from the hooves of Chancey's horse, and Mary felt one strike her shoulder as Shalimar drew closer and closer to the first horse.
With all of her energy focused on staying on top of Shalimar, Mary didn't see the fence— or the sheep on the other side. Chancey cleared the stone wall, and the flock parted. Shalimar rose easily in the air, the wall no obstacle for her— until a lamb, confused by Chancey, darted back under Shalimar's hooves.
"No!" Mary's cry slipped from her throat. She could hear the bleat of terror from the lamb and the answering cry of alarm from its mother. She could feel Shalimar twisting as she tried to correct herself in midair to miss the small creature. Turning sideways, Shalimar landed hard and stumbled, missing the lamb by only inches. Mary managed to stay on until Shalimar surged forward to regain her balance. Already leaning to the left, Mary could cling no longer. She felt herself going over the horse's neck. She hit the dirt hard, sending a sharp pain racing from her head to her eyes. Blackness crashed down over her, as frightening as the intense pain. For a split second she heard the thunder of hooves beside her head, and then she felt herself floating.
* * *
WARMTH WAS THE FIRST sensation that Mary noticed when she awoke, warmth and a loud steady noise that was somehow comforting. She struggled against waking. It was so peaceful in the darkness of her sleep. When she came too close to consciousness, there was a terrible pain in her head and back. But the loud motor beckoned her toward the light, and she slowly opened her eyes.
Two very bright green eyes stared back at her.
"Familiar," she whispered, reaching up to stroke the cat that stood at her side. Pain rocketed through her. Familiar seemed to sense her discomfort and mo
ved closer, to curl and snuggle just at her waist.
"She's awake!" Sophie Emerson rushed to the side of the bed and gently touched her friend's face. "Mary, thank God, you've come to. You've frightened me nearly to death. What in the world were you thinking, jumping stone walls when you've only ridden once?"
"Shalimar? And the lamb?"
"What?" Sophie leaned closer. "What?" She looked toward the tall, grim man who'd entered the bedroom at the first sound of Mary's voice.
"She's asking about her horse and the lamb that was nearly trampled." William went to the bedside. His gaze was tender as he brushed Mary's curls from her forehead. "Shalimar is perfectly fine. And so is the lamb. It seems you were the only one who took a fall."
Mary smiled and reached her hand slowly to William's face. "It all happened so suddenly…."
"So Chancey told us," he said. There was a hardness in his voice. "I thought she had more sense than to put you at fences. But she said you insisted. Mary, I love the fact that you've taken to riding like a duck to water, but you can't go jumping fences when you hardly know how to sit."
"I— "
He took her hand and pressed her fingers to his lips. "I was frightened out of my wits when Chancey rode back and said you were injured. And then when you didn't wake up, I was afraid you were seriously hurt."
"But the doctor says it was only a nasty bruise on your head and back," Sophie interjected. She sat on the other side of the bed. "And I'm going to stay right by your side until you're feeling better."
William eased Mary's hand back to the crisp sheets, but his fingers still caressed hers. "Dr. Sloan was here, and he said the best thing for you was to take it easy. Those are his orders. Rest and take it easy. He'll be back after dinner to check on you again. And this rascal— " he gave Familiar a scratch "— hasn't left your bedside."
Mary tentatively moved her right foot, then her left, making sure that each part worked before she tried to ease up into a sitting position. The pain reminded her that she was bruised— in a million places.
"I hate to leave you, even for a few hours, but I'm going over to Woodlands. Clarissa McLeod called, something about a dam on Mayfair property that affects the flow of water to three of her fields. She's hysterical, says it absolutely can't wait until tomorrow. The workmen are there, and she's going to have them tear it down." William rolled his eyes. "Just rest, my love, and I'll be back for dinner." He kissed her forehead. "We'll have something sent up to your room, and I'll keep you company," he said.
Sophie jumped to her feet, her jerky movements betraying her state of anxiety. "You don't have to do that, William. I'll stay with Mary!" She flushed a bright red. "I mean, you have so much to do, and I have so little. It would be best for me to take care of Mary. I mean, tend to her needs…." She faltered to a stop.
"Your offer is generous, Sophie, but I'd love the opportunity to take care of Mary." He kissed Mary's cheek and left the room.
For a long moment Sophie stood poised beside the bed. She was staring at her friend, but she was listening to William's footsteps fade away. When the last trace of his steps was gone, she ran to the closet and began pulling out Mary's suitcases. The large one was almost more than she could manage.
"Sophie, what are you doing?" Mary ached in places she'd never ached before. When she tried to move, Familiar shifted so that he could sit up and watch her.
"We have to get out of here. We haven't much time, Mary. We have to get our things and be gone before William gets back. He'll try to stop us, of course, but— " She threw the suitcase to the floor. "Damn it all! Forget the clothes. We can send for them. Just try to sit up." She rushed to Mary's bedside. "Can you sit?"
"What are you going on about?" Mary couldn't keep the sharp tone from her voice. Every time she moved, lightning forks of pain zapped her.
"They're trying to kill you." Sophie's face was white. Her voice was little more than a harsh whisper. "I haven't figured out why yet, but it's true."
"Don't be foolish." Mary felt irritation with her friend. "Who's trying to kill me?"
"I overheard Erick and Kevin talking. Kevin said it was a crying shame that William had sent you off with Chancey when you'd only ridden once. He said that he knew Chancey's passion for riding wild and free— that she was reckless. And then Erick said that he'd told William that the horse hadn't been ridden in a year. He'd urged William to let Kevin ride Shalimar for a few weeks to make sure she remembered all of her training. And Shalimar has racing blood in her, so she's supposed to be fast and high-spirited. Is that the kind of horse he should buy for a beginner?"
Mary saw the real worry on her friend's face, and it tempered her irritation. Sophie was often foolish, but always a true friend. William's odd behavior had unnerved Sophie to the point that she was totally paranoid. "All of the horses here at Mayfair have racing blood of some type, or some other fancy bloodline. William wouldn't buy a horse that wasn't well bred, Sophie. It isn't some plot to kill me, it's simply that horses are such an important part of the MacEachern heritage that William wants me to have one that's special." She saw that her words did nothing to reassure her friend.
"Then why didn't he allow Kevin to train her a little?"
Mary forced her body up in the bed without wincing. "She was a gift. William was very proud of her, and he wanted me to have something to ride as good as Chancey's horse. Don't you see? He didn't want me to be at a disadvantage as we went around to the neighbors. He didn't want me to be riding an old, decrepit horse because it might look, to some of the neighbors, as if he didn't love me enough to do better by me."
Sophie lifted the large suitcase and stood it up. She nudged it with her toe. "You only see the good in him. Mary, he's disturbed."
"He thought Chancey would behave more…sensibly. But it was me who insisted on cutting across the fields. I thought if she could do it, so could I. If that lamb hadn't frightened Shalimar, we would have been perfectly fine." She spoke those words with conviction, though she didn't completely believe them.
Sophie returned to sit on the side of the bed. Even her slight weight sent a tremor of aches through Mary, but she ignored them. She was beginning to realize that many of her pains were simply sore muscles. The sooner she got up and moved around, the better off she was going to be.
"There's something else." Sophie's soft voice held none of the hysteria that it had before.
"What?" Mary smiled at her friend.
"I was so worried about you that I was crying, and Abby took me into the kitchen for some tea." She hesitated, looking down at her hands. "Mary, Abby has seen someone wandering the castle late at night."
Familiar shifted positions on the bed. His intense green gaze resting alternately on each speaker.
"A prowler?" A chill made Mary pull the covers higher.
"She believes it was a ghost." Now that the words were spoken, Sophie's eyes begged Mary to consider what she was saying.
"Sophie, that is completely ridiculous." Mary felt her anger beginning to stir. "I'm going to have a talk with Abby, too. She knows better than to pick on you with those stories. She knows how easily frightened you are. It seems everyone in Kelso is ghost crazy."
"She was concerned." Sophie touched the blanket covering Mary's foot. "She is concerned for you."
"For me?"
"She said that, for the most part, the legends of Slaytor MacEachern have been laid to rest. They're still a source of local gossip and entertainment, but a sighting hasn't occurred for…well, for as long as anyone can remember."
"A sighting?" Mary couldn't believe it.
"Yes. And I did see someone outside your door, whether you want to believe it or not. And the night that Eleanor and Peter arrived, Abby saw something, too. It was after William had gone riding and we'd all gone to bed. Abby was at her cottage, and Kevin and her husband were sound asleep, but she got up and went into the kitchen. Kevin had forgotten to bring in some wood, and she wanted the comfort of a fire in the hearth, so she went outside
to get a few sticks."
"She must have really wanted a fire," Mary said sarcastically.
"She couldn't sleep. She said something was troubling her and she wanted a chore. Getting the firewood was just an excuse. Anyway, she was outside when she heard a noise. She said it was late. About three o'clock in the morning. The noise came from one of the battlements. When she looked up, she saw him."
"Him?"
"Slaytor MacEachern. He was standing on the battlement, a man larger than any ordinary man. He had his sword and shield. She said he nearly frightened her to death. But he just looked down at her and laughed, and she described it exactly the way that he laughed at me in the hallway."
"And why hasn't Abby come forward with this story before now?"
"She didn't want to make trouble, and she didn't want to stir any rumors. She wants you and William to be happy here, Mary. But she is worried about you."
"Why me? Why not William?" Mary forced her voice to remain calm. Sophie had only her best interests at heart, and it would do no good to get angry at her. She was easily influenced by tales and stories.
"Well, Slaytor is his kinsman. And it was Slaytor's wife who suffered, according to the stories. And…"
"And what?"
"Well, he was standing outside the room where he kept his wife locked up like a prisoner."
"A regular Bluebeard," Mary said.
"You can laugh at me if you want, but I'm only trying to keep you safe." Tears hovered in Sophie's eyes.
"I know that." Mary felt a stab of guilt. Sophie was her best friend. "I don't mean to be sarcastic. It's just that I find it difficult to believe all of this ghost of Slaytor MacEachern hysteria. There are no ghosts." She reached down and captured Sophie's hand. "I promise you, Sophie, there are no ghosts. This castle is old, and spooky. I'll give you that. You're nervous and upset, and your eyes and ears are playing tricks on you. Look at Abby. It was late. She was tired. She was worried about something else altogether. Her mind gave her a little diversion."
Sophie sighed and stood. "I knew you wouldn't listen. That's why I wanted to pack you up and get you out of here."
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