A chuckle. “D’ye think so? Then let me tell ye how I see this now, from my perspective. When Dougi confessed that he more or less started the thing back then, it changed m’view somewhat.”
“The hell it did. You’re still against my marrying Melissa.”
“Aye, but there’s only one reason now. Afore that confession there were a whole lot more—yer betrayal o’ Dougi and a host o’ other mean-spirited things. And had ye no’ gone crazy, m’brothers and I would be owing you some serious apologies.”
“I take it you don’t feel you’re to blame for my ‘going crazy’?”
“Faith, are ye blaming us for that?”
“Considering I don’t agree I was crazy, no. What I blame you for was never asking what really happened and assuming that my actions were the result of ‘going crazy.’ I was in a volatile state of mind, faced with losing my best friend for good if I couldn’t straighten that mess out with him. You and your brothers weren’t even going to let me try. That’s what I blame you for, Ian.”
“Well, there’s no changing that, and no changing that ye werena behaving normal. And wi’oot some other reason tae blame for it—”
“I’ve already given you reasons.”
“Aye, desperation, pain, rage—a nasty mix that, but still no’ enough tae account for a complete lack o’ reason and self-preservation. D’ye want tae see Melissa, whom ye claim tae love, endangered by such?”
“So now I’m risking her life by loving her? Do you realize how far-fetched that reasoning is, Ian, when nothing like what happened then has ever happened again? Nineteen years gone by, and not one thing to even remotely suggest that I might be harboring some kernel of craziness deep inside me that could be unleashed at any time.”
“But it did happen,” Ian reminded him. “And what happens once can—”
“Spare me,” Lincoln interrupted in disgust. “Better yet, let me give you a different summation. The lot of you are too guilty over your own actions back then to give in now and admit that you were wrong.”
Ian sighed. “If ye mun see it that way, so be it. We just want our niece tae be happy and safe in her choice o’ husband. We dinna want tae spend the rest of our days worrying aboot her in yer care. And nothing has happened tae prove yer point o’ view.”
“No, the proof you’re waiting for is to have your point of view confirmed. But that isn’t going to happen. Provoke me until you run out of ways to, and it still won’t happen, because I’m not crazy. But I swear, if anything could drive someone crazy, it’s you MacFearsons.”
Ian actually laughed. “D’ye think so, lad? Maybe that can be added tae the legend.”
Lincoln snorted and said no more. And the rain started again. He and Ian were both sneezing by the time the walls of Kregora came into view.
Up ahead Lachlan’s worry should have eased, but it grew steadily worse. Melissa wasn’t trying to wheedle an apology out of him for assuming the worst. She wasn’t saying anything. And his daughter being this quiet wasn’t normal.
He’d wrapped her in his thick coat, which was a bit dryer than hers, though not much. They’d run into the heavier rain when they’d reached the coast as well, before turning back inland in their search.
“How bad is the cold ye’ve caught, darlin’?” he leaned over her shoulder to ask.
“Just a wee one, though maybe a bit o’ fever, too,” she said.
He could barely hear her. “Yer mother will take care o’ it, as soon as we get ye home.”
“I know,” she replied with a sigh. “But who will take care o’ Lincoln if he gets sick, too? He has no one here tae care about him but me.”
“I will,” Lachlan said grudgingly.
“Promise, Da?”
It wasn’t lost on him that even in sickness her concern wasn’t for herself but for the man she loved. Faith, he wished he could trust that man and give her what she wanted, his blessing. He’d never had to deny her anything before. Of course, she’d never before asked for something that might endanger her either.
Forty-Six
MORE than half of the MacFearson brothers caught cold that day. By the next afternoon half of Kregora was sneezing as well. It wasn’t a serious contagion, though it hit some worse than others. Typical aches and pains, a few fevers, general grouchiness. But as soon as someone started to feel better, someone else would sneeze in his or her direction and start the cycle all over again.
Melissa’s fever had been much worse than she’d let on, which prompted Kimberly to insist she spend a few days or more in bed. Kimberly then caught the cold from her and ended up in her own bed, at Lachlan’s insistence, which left it to him to make sure they both took their tonics on time and stayed put—no easy task where his wife was concerned.
He remained healthy himself. And fortunately, Lincoln’s cold was mild, without any fever, and was gone in a few days, so Lachlan didn’t have to play nursemaid to him as well, as he’d promised Melissa he’d do.
That was why they ended up sharing dinner alone two days later. No one else felt well enough to come down for it. Lincoln almost didn’t enter the room, though, when he realized that it would just be the two of them.
Lachlan noticed his hesitation and said, “Dinna worry about it. We can discuss whatever ye’d like or no’ talk a’tall. I am too fond o’ m’belly tae bother it wi’ disagreeable blathering at a meal.”
Lincoln nodded, took the chair next to him. “Without one of your brothers-in-law dissecting my every word, trying to pull out an insult they can make use of, some simple talk would be most welcome.”
Lachlan chuckled. “Ye know I liked ye when I met ye. I still like ye. My objections o’er m’lass have nothing tae do with that.”
“I know. How is Melissa?”
Lachlan would have laughed again, since he got asked that question every time he saw the lad, but he was familiar with that kind of concern, which was nothing to make light of. And wasn’t Melissa asking him the same thing each time he saw her? The both of them could think of nothing but each other.
“Her fever is lingering, or she’d be up by now. It’s almost gone, though, so she’ll likely be oot o’ bed by tomorrow, in the afternoon at least.”
“If not, may I see her?”
“Aye, if you agree tae do so from her doorway,” Lachlan replied, then assured Lincoln, “Which has nothing tae do with anything other than I’m trying tae keep this thing from passing back and forth anymore’n necessary.”
“Understood.”
“Good. Now, tell me something about yerself that I dinna know yet.”
Lincoln gave that some thought, then finally grinned. “I love fishing. So did my uncle, for that matter, so much that he had a fish pond built on his property just for that. He introduced me to it soon after I moved to England.”
“Och, aye, a fine sport that. As it happens, I enjoy it m’self.”
“How could you not, with such a magnificent lake for a backyard?”
“True.”
“I find it one of the most relaxing endeavors.”
“Ye are due some o’ that, I’m thinking,” Lachlan said. “I’ve a fine set o’ poles. Ye’re welcome tae borrow one while ye’re here.”
“Thank you, I’ll definitely take you up on that,” Lincoln replied. “But I’m sure that isn’t the kind of knowledge you were fishing for.”
Lachlan burst out laughing over the double entendre. “I’m so transparent, then?”
“When it comes to your daughter, yes. And there is something about me you may find somewhat interesting.”
“Aye?”
“You wondered why I speak like an Englishman,” Lincoln began.
“Ye’ve already explained that, that yer teachers pounded the burr out o’ ye.”
“That isn’t really an accurate explanation, merely a brief one.”
“And the long version?”
“One doesn’t forget the language one learns from birth, and I spent the first ten years of my life not far
from here. It’s still in me, and as strong as ever.”
“I’m no’ sure I understand.”
“What was drilled into me was discipline. My uncle found an excellent tutor. By treating English as a new language, rather than the same language with different accents, I was able to speak as those around me did. My uncle was pleased, my tutor was pleased, my teachers were pleased. I wasn’t, but that was not relevant.”
“Commendable, but I’m thinking ye havena come tae the point yet.”
Lincoln chuckled. “I guess I’m rather transparent as well. But because I still prefer what I was born to, every word I utter is a conscious choice.”
“No distracted mistakes?”
“None.”
“Impossible.”
“No, actually, just difficult, but possible because of the discipline I developed.”
Lachlan began to frown. “Ye’re about tae tell me that this discipline ye learned has carried o’er tae other aspects o’ yer life, aye? Like yer temper?”
“Indeed.”
“Bah, no mon can control his emotions all o’ the time,” Lachlan insisted.
“I’m no’ saying I dinna get angry,” Lincoln countered. “Though I’ve probably felt that emotion more’n the last month since the MacFearsons reentered m’life, than I hae in the last ten years. I’m saying if I do get angry, ye’re no’ likely tae know aboot it.”
Lachlan gave a hoot of laughter over the burr he was hearing, but it wound down quickly when he recalled what Lincoln was hinting at. “Sae ye canna be provoked? There’s no way tae re-create the past tae see if it repeats itself? Is that what ye’re saying?”
“The past had many variables that I’m not willing to submit myself to again, thank you very much. More specifically, the pain. My anger has never again reached that point either. Desperation, though, is getting close.”
Lachlan smiled tolerantly. “I can see that ye believe fully what ye’re saying. But I’m a mon who believes everyone has a breaking point. Ye reached yers early, when you were still a child, and have since mastered yer emotions, so it ne’er happens again. On the one hand, I find that greatly reassuring. On the other, it makes m’decision e’en harder.”
Lincoln sighed. “There really is no way to prove that I’m as sane as you.”
Lachlan sighed as well. “I’m beginning tae see that. But dinna give up hope, lad. I need tae reassess m’thinking.”
Forty-Seven
MELISSA was extremely frustrated with herself, and her body in particular, for not recovering from her simple cold as quickly as she usually did. It had been many years since she’d had such a high fever, and, typical of fevers, it was worse at night.
Unfortunately, that meant it affected her dreams, and every night while the fever had lasted, she’d had her nightmares about the lake behind the castle. A few of them were truly terrifying, waking her up in a drenching sweat.
Worse, everyone else had already recovered, but she was still being told to stay in bed four days later. But enough was enough. She’d keep her distance from everyone, so as not to pass on the last lingering effects of the cold, but she was not staying in bed anymore.
She probably would have had more patience if her family would just admit that they were wrong about Lincoln. She wouldn’t have minded being restricted to her room if she could have been planning her wedding while she was there, instead of still wondering if she would be having the one she’d always dreamed about.
Elopement was still a possibility. It was just very disappointing even to have to consider it. She’d had more faith in her family. She never would have suggested to Lincoln that they return if she hadn’t.
She should sit down and have a heart-to-heart with her father. No, actually, she should talk to her mother first. Kimberly would know whether or not Lachlan was getting close to a decision.
But before that, Melissa needed to know what had been going on while she’d been stuck in her sickbed, and how Lincoln was holding up. She had worried the whole time she was confined to her room that without her presence to bolster him, and so much animosity on all fronts coming his way, he’d start thinking of giving up.
She went to find him now, but most of those she asked hadn’t seen him that morning. Finally one did know and told her that he’d gone fishing.
“Where?” she asked.
“Where else?”
She chewed on her lip. It was a good lake for fishing that they had. There was no dragon living in it, of course. And it never bothered her when her clansmen took their little boats out on it. It bothered her when her father did, but he knew about her dreams and took pains to keep it from her when he felt like fishing.
It was a good day for fishing, too. The sun was shining nicely. The weather was mild for the end of summer, even if she was still slightly chilled herself due to the last small bit of fever she couldn’t seem to shake.
She hoped Lincoln was just fishing from the shore of the lake. There were several really good spots for that, as well as at the end of the short pier that all the fishing boats were tied to.
Malcolm and Charles had wandered down to the lake when they’d heard that Lincoln had gone fishing. Ian Six had come along to keep the peace—if that were possible. He knew that his brothers were looking to cause trouble, Charles in particular. Of course, Charles was a natural instigator anyway. He didn’t need Lincoln around to prove what an ass he could be, Charlie managed that all on his own.
But in Lincoln’s case Charles actually carried around with him a list of insults that he consulted often—when he thought no one was looking—scratching off each one that didn’t get a reaction out of Lincoln. He seemed absolutely determined to be the hero of the family, the one to finally push Lincoln over the edge to reveal his unstable nature—if he had one.
They arrived too late, though. Lincoln was already out in the center of the lake in one of the little fishing boats. But they stuck around for a bit in case he decided to come back in early, wandering farther from the pier until they came to a nice patch of shade to relax in. The angle of the sun across the water had been too bright at the pier, making it nearly impossible to see through the glare to the center of the lake. But the grassy spot they found in the shade gave them a clear view.
“I wonder who was foolish enough tae tell her he’d gone fishing?” Ian said.
“Tell who?” Charles asked.
“Meli. She’s coming down the path tae the pier,” Ian answered, staring in that direction.
“Why foolish?” Malcolm asked curiously as he glanced that way as well.
“Ye dinna know?” Ian replied in surprise.
“Would I be asking now, if I did?”
“Because she’s got a real fear o’ that lake,” Ian explained. “Why d’ye think she’s ne’er gone in it since that one time as a child when she almost drowned.”
“She wouldna remember that,” Charles scoffed. “She was barely oot o’ swaddling when that happened. And she’s no’ afraid tae go swimming. She’s often taken our cousins tae the pond near home.”
“I said she’s afraid o’ the lake, ye dafty, no’ of swimming,” Ian replied. “She confessed tae me once that she thinks there’s a really big…fish in it, big enough tae swallow someone whole.”
“Fish?” Charles frowned.
“Fish?” Malcolm chuckled.
Ian scowled at them both. “Verra well, a bloody big dragon, tae be more precise.”
Charles started rolling in the grass laughing, but Malcolm said seriously, “Ye’re no’ joking, are ye?”
“Nae.”
“Sounds like a childish thing she should’ve outgrown,” Malcolm said.
“Aye, and she knows better. It’s just something she canna shake, a deep fear she’s got no control o’, so she simply stays away from the lake.”
“Then what’s she doing standing on the pier waving at that bastard?” Charles asked.
“Tae get his attention maybe?” Malcolm said, tongue in cheek.
&
nbsp; She’d done that. Lincoln was waving back at her. But she obviously couldn’t see that. She was shouting at him now and still waving, though he probably couldn’t hear her any more than they could. He must have realized she couldn’t see him, though, because he stood up in the small boat to assure her that he was aware of her presence.
“Takes an Englishmon tae be that dumb,” Charles remarked dryly as they watched Lincoln’s boat begin to rock unsteadily in the water.
“Or a man sae much in love he’d rather put his woman at ease than care for his own safety.”
“What rubbish,” Charles scoffed yet again. “When did ye become his champion, eh?”
“I’m no’ his champion, but I dinna think he’s crazy, which is the only objection left tae his marrying the lass. And e’en if he was, he’s sane enough ninety-nine percent o’ the time, or at least all the times we’ve witnessed since she set her cap for him, for her feelings tae tip the scale in the matter. She loves him—”
“Bah, she only thinks she does. She’ll find someone else soon enough, once Lachlan stops dillydallying and gives him the boot.”
“Did anyone e’er mention what an ass ye are, Charlie?” Ian shot back.
Charles was quick to take a swing at Ian, but Ian was quick as well in moving out of the way. Charles decided not to pursue the insult and angrily jerked his coat back down. His scowl promised later retribution, though.
“Ye’ve a special closeness wi’ Meli the rest of us dinna share,” Charles pointed out stiffly. “How can ye e’en think of allowing Linc tae hae her?”
“There’s a better question for that,” Ian countered.
“Let me guess—”
“Spare us,” Ian cut in. “Yer mind canna support guessing.”
Charles dove at Ian this time. They rolled in the grass several feet before Malcolm was able to separate them. They were both angrily jerking down their coats this time.
Malcolm tsked, brought them back to the subject. “What’s the better question?”
“Charles is incapable o’ understanding—”
The Pursuit Page 23
