Enraptured (38 page)

Coll's fingers drifted over her back. “Do you think that you're the only one who needs?”

Violet looked at him over her shoulder. “I hope not.” She turned and lay back down on his chest. “I am sorry, Coll. It was petty of me not to tell you. Perhaps I wanted to make you angry. But I didn't mean to hurt you.” She pressed her lips to his skin. “I never want to hurt you.”

His arms went around her, holding her to him. “Dinna trouble yourself. I am not feeling any hurt now.”

“I'm glad.” Violet smiled, tracing a pattern over his skin with her forefinger. “What shall we do now?”

Coll's eyes gleamed in response, but he said, “First, I am going to sneak into the kitchen and find something to eat. I'm starving.” He kissed her soundly. “Then I'm going to get rid of the bastard who attacked you.”

H
ow do you plan to
find him?” Violet asked sometime later as they sat at the kitchen table with bread, slices of cold roast beef, cheese, and pickles spread out before them.

“I haven't decided.” Coll dug into his food with obvious pleasure. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

“I thought Old Angus told you.” Violet kept her hand on his arm on the table, caressing it now and then, unwilling to completely break contact.

“I dinna wait for the details.” Coll's eyes glinted.

“Mm. I'm sure you didn't.” Violet recounted the incident, ending with the providential arrival of Angus McKay.

“So he thought we had the treasure because he was watching us that day at the castle?”

“And other times, I think. Several times lately I've had an eerie feeling that someone was watching me. That day that we went to the Munro graves, as I was walking home, I thought there was someone else in the woods.”

“Someone's been spying on you? Following you? And you dinna say anything?”

“What could I say? ‘I keep getting an eerie feeling'? I never saw anyone. I decided I was imagining it.”

“What about since the day he grabbed you? Has he tried again? Has he been watching you?”

“I have not seen him. He hasn't done anything. It's only been two days, Coll, and I have not been foolish, whatever you may think. In the mornings I wait to walk with the workers, and I come back with them or Angus.”

“McKay is eighty if he's a day. He's not much use if someone attacks you.”

“He frightened him off the other day. I think the man feared exposure. I imagine he is someone Angus would recognize.”

“No doubt. He's bound to be from the glen.”

“We could lure him out,” Violet suggested. “I could walk back by myself, and—”

“Nae.” Coll stopped her with a stony look. “Absolutely not.”

“He won't hurt me. He wants the treasure, and I can hardly give it to him if he's killed me. I can arrange to give it to him, and you can be waiting to catch him when I do.”

“He could do a great deal to convince you to help him without actually killing you. And if you think I am going to sit around while you lure some villain to attack you, you are even madder than I thought.”

“What do you suggest? If you are guarding me every step of the way, he won't show himself. And do
not
suggest I stay inside Duncally until you catch him.”

“I wasn't about to suggest that; I know how little cooperation I could hope for from you.”

They glared at each other until Violet began to laugh. “There. Already we are at daggerpoint.” She stroked her hand over his, and he opened it, lacing their fingers together. She lifted his hand to kiss his knuckles. “I know you are concerned for me. And I am glad of it. But you must see that I cannot stop living my life.”

“Dinna worry. You're going back to your ruins as usual. Now that I know what he's doing, we can hoist him on his own petard.”

“How?”

Coll smiled, a cold glitter to his eyes that Violet had never before seen. “We shall give your attacker something to steal.”

Two days later, Violet stood at the ruins watching the men dig. Yesterday Isobel and her aunt had spent most of the afternoon at the ruins, accompanied by Isobel's husband, Jack. Violet had enjoyed the visit, but she had known that they were there because Coll had asked them to watch over her. Curiously, she found it amusing, even endearing. It was a trifle disconcerting to feel herself changing.

Today, however, there were no guests, just herself and the workers and, of course, Angus McKay, who had not missed a single day since he had frightened off her attacker. Violet glanced now and then toward the edge of the cliff. She was glad that the role she had to play today called for a show of anxiety and eagerness, for she did not think she could have managed to seem calm.

She heard Coll whistling before she saw him, followed
by the chorus of a song. It would take a deaf man not to look as Coll came up the path from the beach. Coll carried a sack over his shoulder, obviously weighty. His clothes and face were smeared with dirt, but his smile was bright. Coll was either a better actor than Violet would have guessed or he was enjoying the prospect of a confrontation.

“Did you find it?” Violet ran to him.

“Aye, I did.” Coll dropped the sack and picked her up to whirl her around.

“Coll! Put me down! You're filthy.” But she laughed.

He set her down, and Violet tried to look annoyed as she brushed the dust from her cloak, but a grin broke through.

“Whisht, lad! What do you hae there?” Angus hurried toward them as fast as his aged legs would carry him. The workers had ceased digging and were leaning on their shovels, watching with great curiosity. Angus reached for the sack, but Coll whisked it away and again slung it over his back.

“ 'Tis nothing.”

“A michty heavy nothing.” Old Angus set his hands on his hips and glared up at Coll. The old man, Violet thought, was enjoying this as much as Coll.

“I'm going back to the house,” Violet said abruptly. “You men finish up here. Angus.” She gave him a good-bye nod.

“You're leaving? Sae early?” Angus asked.

“I'm tired. Coll?” Violet turned toward him and he nodded.

Despite Angus's splutters of protest, Violet and Coll started off, Coll shortening his strides to match Violet's. Violet was on edge, listening, waiting. She fought her instinct to stay silent. They continued their performance.

“Was it difficult? Did you have much trouble?” She turned to look up at Coll, surreptitiously scanning the land around them.

“Nae. I found it easy enough. It was where the journal said, in an inner cave. I've passed it hundreds of times, but not gone in it. The entrance is low; you have to crawl through it.”

“Was it much?”

“Oh, aye. Four bags, you ken. We'll live in style.” He cast her a grin, and Violet knew he, too, was surveying the area.

They continued to talk about money and opportunities for spending it as they started up the rough, narrow path to Duncally. The trees were thicker here, with ample places for someone to hide. The problem was whether their quarry would have the nerve to stop Coll. It would have worked better with Violet alone, but Coll would never have allowed that. And frankly, Violet would not have relished plunging up this trail by herself.

If Coll's presence deterred him, there would be another opportunity tonight. With that in mind, Coll turned their talk to plans for stowing the sack in the butler's pantry tonight.

“I'll just be glad to get it in the bank tomorrow.” Violet gave a shiver. “And I won't have to worry that that man will come after me again.” She hoped they were not being too obvious.

Violet heard a snap among the trees, and she felt the subtle increase in the tension of Coll's body, but she carefully kept her eyes straight ahead and her face nonchalant. Ahead of them lay a sharp turn in the path, the most secluded part of the trail. Violet's nerves stretched tighter with every step
she took. She went around the curve and took two steps, Coll right behind her.

“Stop!”

Violet froze, Coll doing the same. Slowly they turned around. A man stood on the path behind them. His hat was pulled low and a scarf was wrapped round his lower face. Violet scarcely took in his attire, however; her attention was riveted on the pistol in his hand.

“Will Ross.” Coll's voice dripped scorn. “Do you think I dinna recognize you because of that stupid scarf? I've known you since you could walk, lad.”

Violet's fingers curled into her hands. She knew Coll was delaying, but didn't he realize his contempt made the man more likely to shoot him?

“Is that supposed to make me flee?” Ross sneered. “Should I quake in my boots because the michty Coll Munro knows my name? Or maybe you think I will believe you are my friend.”

“Nae. I would not claim friendship with you, Will. But you will be sorry if you try to take this from me.”

The other man snorted in disgust. “You're the one whae will be sorry if you dinna hand over the gold. Gie it to me.” He waggled his fingers in a summoning gesture.

Coll let out a sigh and lowered the sack. Taking a step forward, he tossed the sack on the ground at Ross's feet.

Will leaned down to grab the sack with one hand, keeping the pistol trained squarely on Coll. “Mayhap I'll shoot you anyway.”

“No!” Violet cried, and started around Coll, but he pushed her behind him.

“Violet, stop.”

Ross chuckled. “Don't like that, lassie? Maybe you'd like to bargain for him then. But I already hae all this money. What'll you offer for his sorry life?”

A pistol cocked loudly behind him, and Jack Kensington jammed the barrel of a pistol against Ross's skull. “Well, I will offer to not put this ball through your brain if you drop your gun. How does that bargain sound?”

Coll let out a long breath. “Christ, English, what took you so long?”

“So Will Ross is the man who broke into Duncally?” Aunt Elizabeth asked several hours later. She and Isobel had been waiting at Duncally, along with Jack's mother, and the three women had stayed with Violet while Coll and Jack escorted Will to gaol in Kinclannoch. Violet, unaccustomedly shaky, found it rather comforting to be fussed over.

Now the whole group was gathered around the dining table, and once they had satisfied the first sharp pangs of hunger, they settled down to discuss the events of the afternoon.

“Yes, I'm afraid the thief was Will.” Coll shook his head. “I should not have let him get involved with that group.”

“You cannot blame yourself for the way Will Ross turned out,” Isobel told him.

“I suspect young Will would have found his way into thievery, clearances or no clearances,” Jack agreed.

“You may be right.”

“But I don't understand—how did you know he would try to rob you this afternoon?” Jack's mother asked.

“It was more hope than certainty, Mrs. Kensington,” Coll replied. “We knew he had been spying on us, so we thought that if we put on a show of finding the treasure, he would see it and come after us. The tricky thing was getting him to seize it immediately.”