Fear Familiar Bundle

by Caroline Burnes

  "And you knew that I wouldn't leave." Mary smiled at her friend. She leaned down to pet Familiar as he rested by her leg. "Look, if there were any ghosts about Mayfair, Familiar would sense it. Cats have an ability to tune in to supernatural things. Especially black cats." Mary lightly stroked Familiar's back. Obligingly he flipped over and gave her access to his stomach. "This cat couldn't be more relaxed. Now could he?"

  * * *

  THE TRICK to being a successful cat is to look relaxed, especially when some lovely elfin creature is willing to stroke and caress you. But that's a secret from the cat's survival manual I intend to pen as soon as I get back to the States and Eleanor's electric typewriter. Now that she's caught up in her computer, the IBM Selectric is all mine.

  It's difficult to concentrate on my potential literary successes, though, while Sophie is sighting ghosts and Mary is nearly breaking her neck. Something isn't right here at Mayfair. No, something is definitely wrong. But I can't seem to get a handle on it.

  When William and Mary are together, I could swear he loves her with every corpuscle of his big, tall body. Yet, that first evening at the dinner table…He was in a rage at her, for no reason. He didn't have to stab a dagger into the table to let me know he was capable of violence. Little Sophie is a goose, but I certainly understand why she seems to be afraid. I'm more than a little concerned for Mary's safety myself. It just doesn't make sense, though. Why would anyone want to harm Mary? She isn't even part of the MacEachern clan. At least, not yet.

  Methinks I'll take a little tour of the stables. During my visit in Ireland, I picked up a bit of chatter involving horses. If push comes to shove, I'm sure I can get in touch with Patrick and Katherine. It's a comforting feeling to know I have my own horse experts just across the water. Yeah, I'm picking up on this north country lingo pretty good. I can't wait to get back to Washington and impress Clotilde with my new vocabulary.

  But first things first. I'm going to the stables. Kevin and Erick seem to hang out there, and if there's something rotten in Kelso, I may get a whiff of it from those two.

  Chapter Five

  William stood at the head of the table. The enormous dining hall only made their small party of three seem even less significant. Sophie wouldn't meet his gaze, and Mary was so insistent on being cheerful that he knew something had gone wrong in his absence. Although he'd tried to make her stay in bed, she'd insisted on coming down for dinner. Once Dr. Sloan had reassured him that she was only bruised, he'd relented. In his experience with falls from horses, it was better to move around some if possible.

  "Have you seen Familiar?" Mary asked as she buttered a slice of the homemade bread that Abby baked daily.

  "He was out at the stables." William poured more wine for all of them. "Kevin said he was sitting on Shalimar's stall as if he was communicating with the mare. He said it was very amusing to watch. I'd give anything to know what goes on in the head of that handsome black feline."

  "Now that's a thought." Mary lifted her wineglass. "A toast. To the improvement of my riding skills and to my new horse, Shalimar."

  Sophie forced a smile and sipped her wine.

  "I think it might be a good idea if you took a few days off from riding and then started on the lunge line with Kevin helping you," William said.

  "Good idea," Mary agreed. "I think Shalimar and I will get on fine if we take it slow— and if we stay away from frightened lambs."

  William slapped his forehead. "I almost forget to tell you. Mrs. Daugherty was so upset over what happened that she sent that lamb up here as a gift for you."

  Mary looked up from her plate. "What am I going to do with a lamb?"

  "I suppose we could eat it."

  "William!" Sophie and Mary cried out in unison before they saw the smile widen on his face.

  "Ah, ladies, it's good to see some enthusiasm and life around this table. Of course, the lamb will be well cared for. It was an amazing gesture, coming from Mrs. Daugherty."

  "I hear she isn't one of your biggest fans." Mary didn't want to get into the details of what had happened with Chancey regarding Mrs. Daugherty's penchant for punctuality. She'd spent half an hour thinking through the fact that Chancey had told William that she, Mary, had insisted on taking the fences. Was it possible that the tall blonde had interpreted the events in that fashion? Was it Chancey's guilt that made her lie? Or had she really twisted the facts that violently? All in all, Mary had concluded that it didn't matter. In the future, she determined to use her good sense and not allow herself to be bullied. If blame was to be laid at anyone's door, Mary had to take her share for being too easily pushed around.

  "Mary, I hate to be the bearer of dismal news…." William's smile took some of the sting out of his words. "Clarissa McLeod has invited herself over here for dinner Saturday night. She and Darren, and she's suggested that I might want to invite Chancey and a few of the other neighbors. She has a surprise. What do you think?"

  Mary didn't know if she'd be able to move by Saturday night, but she couldn't put off meeting the members of the community forever. "That sounds lovely."

  "It's just that I feel Clarissa manipulated me rather easily." He reached across the gleaming table and touched her hand. "You see, I've gotten used to dealing with a woman who doesn't resort to manipulation. I'd forgotten that people like Clarissa are masters of the verbal ambush."

  Mary laughed. "I'll have to pay attention to her tactics. If you ever start to become difficult, I can take lessons from Mrs. McLeod."

  "Heaven forbid." William rolled his eyes.

  "This is a lovely meal," Sophie said. She was watching William closely. "I mean, it's usually in the evenings when he begins to…feel ill." She looked from William to Mary and then back down to her plate. "I shouldn't have brought this up. I'm always saying the wrong thing."

  "No, you have every right to talk about my bad moods since you've had to suffer through them." William reached on either side of him and took both women's hands. "This scare with Mary may have jolted me out of my own selfish world. I believe I've been so concerned with Mayfair and my responsibilities that I've become overwrought to the point of…well, of some peculiar behavior. Today, though, I realized how easily Mary could be taken from me. I think both of you will see a change, for the better."

  Sophie sipped her wine, spilling a few drops of the bloodred liquid on the white tablecloth. "I'm so sorry," she said, blotting it with her napkin.

  Mary's laughter rang brightly in the room. "Oh, Sophie. Don't worry so much." She gripped William's hand. "Sophie is such a fussbudget, and I'm so happy. You make me so happy." After the doubts and anxieties, she did feel extraordinarily happy. This was the William she'd fallen in love with.

  "You're the most important thing in my life, Mary. I've been so stubborn about leaving Mayfair, and I know how frightened you and Sophie both have been. Because of me. I believe all of that's behind me now. Behind us." He lifted her fingers and kissed each one.

  Sophie had recovered and lifted her wineglass. "To your future," she said. "To all the happiness you both deserve."

  Laughing, they drank to the toast.

  Mary finished her glass of wine and put it back on the table. "I hate to be the party drag, but I've had enough sitting in a hard chair for one evening. If you two will excuse me— " Mary pushed back her chair "— I'm going to soak in a hot, hot tub and hobble back to bed."

  William stood and went to help her. "An excellent idea. I'll bring up some brandy and dessert when you've had a chance to settle into bed." His gaze touched her like a caress.

  Mary felt her heart catch. There was a definite promise in William's eyes— a promise of tender embraces. Her body was sore, but she felt an immediate response to William. "Yes, I'll be waiting," she said.

  "Abby has made something special," Sophie said. "I was watching her in the kitchen. It's going to be delicious."

  "I'll keep that in mind," Mary said. "While I'm soaking these battered old bones, I'll be thinking of…desser
t." The look she gave William made it clear she was thinking about him.

  "Can I help you?" William offered.

  "No, I need the exercise. I'm afraid if I don't move, I'll rust." Mary laughed as she slowly made her way out of the dining room.

  In the hall, she paused. Abby had brought her a cup of herbal tea earlier that had done wonders. With the prospect of William's visit hanging deliciously before her, Mary decided that a second cup could not hurt. She started toward the kitchen, hoping that Abby still had plenty of the herbs left.

  As she walked along, Mary found that it became increasingly easier to move. That was encouraging, and she pushed into the kitchen with a smile on her face.

  Seated at the table, Kevin looked up, startled. A heavy silver spoon slipped from his fingers and crashed into a delicate glass bowl. At the sound of broken glass Abby whirled from the sink, her hands filled with a mortar and pestle where she was crushing up a yellowish powder. She placed it beside her on the counter.

  "I didn't mean to startle you," Mary said, entering the room and closing the door behind her. "I was wondering if you had any of that wonderful herb tea left?" She looked from Abby to Kevin, whose face was now stained a dull red. He hurriedly began to clean up the pieces of the broken glass.

  "I'm afraid I've made a terrible mess," he said. "And it's one of the crystal pieces, too."

  "Kevin." Abby said with a sigh. "You've a delicate touch with a horse, but you're an oaf with the dishes." She went to help him and swept the glass and custard into a paper towel. "I'm terribly sorry, Mary. That bowl was part of a set that belonged to William's great-great-grandmother. If there was any way to replace it, I would. But there isn't." She nervously went to get a cloth to clean the remainder of the mess.

  "Well, the way I look at it, it's at least fifty percent my fault for blasting in here like that. I startled Kevin or he wouldn't have dropped the spoon. And dishes are bound to be broken. There's really no need for apologies. It was an accident."

  Kevin eased back into his chair, and slowly the flush left his cheeks.

  "The tea," Abby said. "Yes, I have some left. I'll bring it right up to you as soon as I brew it."

  "Don't be silly. I can wait and take it up myself. I'm not a total invalid." Mary started to take a seat at the table with Kevin, but Abby hurried toward her.

  "I'll bring it up to you, Mary. Please. That way you can have it nice and hot."

  Mary hesitated. She suddenly realized that she might be interrupting a personal conversation. "Of course. That would be fine." She looked over at Kevin. "It won't be tomorrow, but I can promise I'll be back in the saddle soon."

  "I'm sure that's so," Kevin said. Whenever he talked about the horses, he relaxed visibly. "The next time Chancey decides to take you for a ride, you'll be ready for her tricks."

  "Indeed I will," Mary promised. "Indeed I will." She was chuckling as she left the kitchen. The only thing she could think about was a hot bath— and William. He'd been perfectly fine at dinner. He'd been charming and gentle and wonderful. Just like before. And he was coming to bring her dessert. She felt her heart lift higher than it had in weeks. Maybe things were going to get better at Mayfair. Maybe there would be an early November wedding yet in the ancient old hall of the castle.

  As she turned to close the door to the kitchen, a black shadow flew by her feet and raced inside the door. Her smile quirked up on one corner. The black cat never missed an opportunity to ingratiate himself with Abby. He was no doubt already getting the best cut of meat and the most delicate morsels of fish. Familiar had a way of getting people to come around to his way of thinking. He was some kind of cat.

  * * *

  WILLIAM DIPPED the spoon into the dish and lifted lush raspberries and cream to Mary's mouth. The tart, rich taste was sinful, and she allowed her body to slide another inch beneath the bubbles and hot water. Raspberries, her favorite thing in all the world. And William had had them prepared just for her.

  William had surprised her in the bath— with two desserts and two glasses of brandy. The herb tea Abby had delivered, the hot water and the brandy were having a decided effect on her, not to mention the fact that every time she looked at William she felt a surge of desire. She was caught in a world where all of her senses were aroused, and she was loving every minute of it.

  Perched on the side of the large tub, William held the spoon. "One more bite," he urged.

  "Have some yourself," Mary said, laughing as she allowed him to feed her.

  "In a moment, after you've finished yours." He held the brandy snifter for her to drink. "I'm having homemade custard. My favorite." He smiled. "Abby has indulged us both tonight."

  "I feel wonderfully decadent." She met his gaze. "And a little afraid."

  "Afraid of me?" His blue eyes were concerned.

  "No." Mary shook her head, sending a few more of her curls into the bathwater. The red hair clung to the white skin of her shoulders, and William automatically reached out to touch them.

  "I'm afraid of the future, and the step we're taking."

  "Before I brought you to Mayfair, you weren't afraid. You would have married me in Edinburgh without any hesitation or fear."

  William spoke the truth, and Mary couldn't deny it. To doubt their union would never have crossed her mind during the courtship in Edinburgh. There had been no time or room for doubt in the magical six months. But the month at Mayfair had taught her a lesson about the complexity of the man she intended to wed.

  "I suppose I was acting like I'd stumbled into a fairy tale in Edinburgh. Everything was perfect, so perfect that it was like some fairy godmother had written the script for me. I just accepted it because it was so wonderful. Mayfair has brought home to me the reality of what marriage to you will be like." She wasn't complaining, but she was no longer so naive. Mayfair and the life of Lady MacEachern would be difficult at times.

  "And you've changed your mind?" William swallowed.

  "No." She laughed and reached for his hand, trailing bubbles along the leg of his trousers. "I haven't changed my mind, at all. I intend to marry you, William. And if what you said tonight at the table is the truth, then I see no reason why we can't continue with our plan to marry the first of November."

  "Mary!" He put the tray and glasses on the floor and slid to his knees beside the bath. "I love you so much. And I'm so sorry for what's happened here. I have no idea what came over me. I've been so selfish, and I wasn't even aware of what I was doing or why."

  "I'm just glad it's over." She leaned forward, her breasts rising from the warm water and bubbles.

  William's arms dipped into the hot bath, and he lifted her up into his arms.

  "I'm dripping water all over your clothes," she said as she began to kiss his neck and cheek.

  "I did feel something warm running down me," he teased. He kissed her forehead. "Are you sure, Mary?"

  "I'm sure." She picked up a heavy towel off the counter as he carried her past. She might not be positive about the future, but she was certain that she had to have this time with William.

  "What about your bruises?" he asked as he settled her in front of the fire burning in the hearth.

  "What bruises?" Her hair fell around her shoulders, clinging in places to her wet skin. The firelight played across her body, emphasizing the creamy skin and lush curves.

  "You are so lovely," William said as he took the towel and slowly began to dry her. He blotted her shoulders, her back, her arms and breasts and waist and legs. And each place he dried, his lips warmed her.

  "William." Mary's voice was uneven. She placed her hands on his shoulders, and he slowly lifted his face. "I love you."

  "And I you." He rose to his feet, and once again swept her up into his arms. "You're like a magic creature, Mary. So delicate and beautiful. I'm afraid I might hurt you."

  "Hurt me?" She laughed softly. "Ah, William, you could break my heart, but you couldn't physically hurt me. That much I know about you." Even when Sophie had been terrif
ied of him, Mary had felt no physical threat. He was frightening— but only because she did not understand what had happened to him.

  "Even these past weeks, you haven't been afraid?"

  "Not of physical abuse. But there were times I believed I didn't know you at all."

  "Those times are over."

  "Then you promise I won't lose you? Not to the past or Mayfair or your duties?"

  "You won't, Mary. Not ever." He placed her gently on the bed and stood to remove his own clothes.

  * * *

  WELL, WELL, WELL, the lovebirds have finally wound up in the same cage. And what a scene it must have been. This bathroom is a wreck. Water everywhere. Lace underthings strewn about. Brandy on the floor. And a crystal cup of untouched egg custard, one of my personal favorites.

  Abby is a wonderful cook, and she's more than generous with the fish and meat, the cream and cheese, the gravies and butter. But she hasn't considered the fact that a well-traveled feline such as myself requires a taste of sweet at the end of the meal to satisfy the palate.

  I doubt that Mary and William will mind if I help myself to this little delicacy. After all, it's going to ruin here on the floor. I remember my mother giving me the old lecture about the starving kitties in China. How many times did I hear her tell me to clean my bowl? I'm also protecting Abby's tender feelings. She made this custard especially for William. How would she feel if she saw it returned to the kitchen untouched? So, here goes.

  Hey, this stuff is great! Dense, rich, creamy. Perfection. Well, that's an empty bowl. In the morning, I wonder if William will think he did this. Now, since my place in Mary's room is occupied, I think I'll wander around that spooky old turret room for a little while. I spent the entire afternoon in the stables, and I learned zip. But then, I am a stranger. It may take a few days for me to catch the drift of what's normal and what's not.

  If the ghost of Slaytor is walking tonight, he should be up in the turret room at one time or another. Gee, I'm going to ghost watch. When I get back to Washington, Clotilde will never believe this.