Everlastin' Book 1 (23 page)

“Stop using endearments on
me, you...you...
lunatic!
I want the truth!”

“The truth?” Lachlan wasn't
trying to be funny. He was genuinely astonished by her accusation.
“Och, darlin', you should know me better than tha'!”

“Stop lying to me, Lachlan!
Admit it! You've been drugging me!” she accused, jabbing an
isolated finger at him to punctuate her words. “It's all beginning
to make sense. You somehow convinced Carlene to lure me
here—”

“Patience, laddie,
patience,” he groaned, his eyes rolled upward.

“—
and sent her away. During
that brief time we were talking, I kept getting the feeling she
wanted to tell me something. She didn't really want any part of
this, did she?”

“She had some
doubts.”

Breathing heavily, Beth
stared at him as if truly seeing him for the first time. “You've
made no secret of your obsession with that damned
portrait!”

“
If no' for the fact I know
ye're distraught and dinna mean wha' ye're sayin', I'd have you
across ma knee!”

“You went to a lot of
trouble for nothing, mister. I won't let you try to convince me I'm
insane to keep me in this house!”

“Ye're goin' through a
denial phase—”

He ducked in time to avoid
being hit by an urn Beth hurled. The sound of shattering glass
exploded on the fireplace mantel. Straightening up, he stared at
the remnants of his precious, thirteenth century, Chinese urn, and
a whimper caught in his throat.

“Have you an inklin' o' wha'
tha' was worth?” he asked shrilly, his gaze questioning her sanity.
“Five generations o' ma family—”

He released a squeal and
quickly lifted his hands in a pleading gesture when Beth wielded a
porcelain Venus figurine above her head. “No' tha'!” he gasped, his
knees weakening, threatening to give out beneath him.

The precious artifact struck
his shoulder. His hands made a wild bid to grasp the piece, but
like a juggler out of sync, his frantic antics only flipped the
figurine this way and that until it slipped through his fingers and
crashed on the edge of the marble top of the coffee
table.

Lachlan stared down at the
countless pieces, horror further whitening his face then he swung a
harried look Beth's way.

To his disbelief, she was
tossing a large Austrian crystal paperweight in her hands, tossing
it while glaring at him with an undeniable glint of animosity
brightening her eyes.

“I want answers.” Beth
heaved a ragged breath. “You've been putting something in my tea,
haven't you?”

Color returned to Lachlan's
face. Angry color. “I canna believe you would accuse me o' such a
foul thin’! And you have no' touched yer damn tea,” he said through
locked teeth.

He took a cautious step in
her direction, his gaze riveted on the crystal she held
threateningly higher. “I'm willin' to answer yer questions, but
I'll no' stand for you threatenin' me wi' ma own treasures.
Now...put...tha'...
down.”

“When I'm damn good and
ready. Start talking.”

Lachlan's nostrils flared.
He arched one eyebrow censoriously and flexed his hands by his
sides. “Where do you want me to start?”

“Anywhere that begins to
make sense of all this.”

“Efter you put down ma
grandmither's crystal.”

A visual showdown ensued.
Lachlan held his ground, confident Beth's anger would lessen and
her compassion would resurface. He knew this woman better than
anyone.

Or so he thought.

As if seeing it happen in
slow motion, he watched the paperweight sail through the air. His
phantom heart drummed in his chest. A deafening roar filled his
ears. The crystal piece whizzed past his ear. Reflexively, he shot
out a hand to capture it. The crystal skimmed past the tips of his
fingers. He pushed off on the balls of his feet, but the crystal
shattered on impact with the fireplace tiles. A string of Gaelic
curses was released as he slapped the floor the entire length of
his body.

“Enough!” he bellowed,
scrambling back onto his feet. “Tis—” He sharply exhaled at the
sight of Beth holding up a jade figurine. “Oh, sweet Jesus,” he
sobbed, raising his hands pleadingly in the air. “If ye're lookin'
to see a grown mon cry, go ahead and toss it. But if there's an
ounce o' compassion left in you, you'll put it down.”

“I want answers!”

A squeaky breath spilled
from him as he helplessly gestured with his arms. “I said I'd
answer yer questions!” he exclaimed in something akin to hysteria.
“Tis no' simple to explain!”

“Oh?” Beth shuffled her
shoulders in an airy, cocky manner. “How hard can it be, Lachlan?”
she asked sarcastically. “You supposedly died over a hundred years
ago. Carlene and David have supposedly been dead for three months.
And let's not forget,
I've
supposedly been dead for a week. This is all a
sick hoax, or I'm hallucinating. Right?”

With a sigh of defeat, he
shook his head. “Neither.”

Beth glared at him for
several long seconds before lowering the jade piece to her side. He
gestured for her to sit on the settee and, after a brief
hesitation, she sat and laid the figurine on her lap.

“All right. I'm
listening.”

Lachlan's throat felt
suddenly tight, and he turned away in a bid to compose himself. But
his gaze fell upon Beth's portrait, her features as strong a beacon
as ever for his heart. Turning his head, he looked at the
three-dimensional vision. She was waiting for him to begin, her
eyes downcast, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the
figurine.

Sighing deeply, he ran his
fingers through his hair. He'd wanted to tell her everything since
that moment when he first saw her standing on the staircase, but he
was still apprehensive. Then her eyes lifted and impaled him.
Lachlan gulped past the tightness in his throat and forced himself
to begin.

“I guess tis better to start
at the beginnin',” he began stiltedly, his gaze flitting over the
face of the depiction of his long-awaited love. “Ma faither was a
successful shipbuilder. Efter his death, me and ma three older
brithers took over the business. By the time I was twenty-two, I
had mair money than most men see in a lifetime. And it was then I
decided it was time to settle down and start a family o' ma
own.

“I'd come to Crossmichael to
visit a friend a few years previously, and I fell in love wi’ it
here. An' it was here I found ma land in 1841 and started to work
on this house.

“It took two years to finish
and anither year to fill it wi' all the treasures here now. Then it
was time to find me a hearty womon to marry, a womon to fill these
walls wi' the laughter o' children.”

Lachlan swallowed hard then
tried to smile through the tightness in his face. “I went clear to
Aberdeen to find me a bride, and efter a few weeks, I was
introduced to Tessa by a third cousin o' mine. It took me a week to
convince her to marry me. Aye, I thought she was the perfect lass
for this house. She had a face as soft and fair as moonlight, and
hair the color o' golden wine. Her eyes sparkled when she laughed.
She made me feel young and giddy, and I fell so hard in love tha' I
didna think beyond whiskin' her to her new home and startin' our
lives thegither. She was so shy and undemandin', I couldna refuse
when she asked if her older brither could come to stay wi' us. This
house was big enough.

“But ma bride began to act
strangely once we arrived here. She complained o' a feelin' o'
bein' watched and touched by somethin' evil. Our weddin' night was
fraught wi' her weepin' and complainin' and usin' every excuse she
could think o' to douse ma passion, and I left our marriage bed
angrier than I'd ever been. “She needed time, she said. And as long
as I left her alone, she was attentive and sweet, but each night,
she went to her own bed, and me...ta mine.

“I got along weel enough wi'
her brither. He seemed a sympathetic lad. Aye, you could say I
thought verra weel o' Robert.

“Abou' a month efter our
marriage, I told Tessa i' was time she fulfilled her wifely duties.
She took it bloody good, I thought, and she promised to come to ma
bed tha' night. There I lay, waitin' for her, all bathed and
perfumed like some poor, love-sick sop abou' to lose his virginity.
But the hours went by. She never showed up. Come morn, I went
lookin' for her.

“And I found her. In her
room. Sleepin' in Robert's arms.”

Releasing a scornful laugh,
Lachlan turned and finally looked at Beth. It didn't matter to him
that she was watching him through a look of complete apathy. His
only concern at the moment was to go on with the details of the
past, in hopes talk of their future together would
follow.

“I couldna say aught to
either o' them. Just went back to ma room and tried to make sense
o' it all. Then Tessa came in, wearin' the clingy nightgown I'd
bought her for our weddin' night, tears in her eyes, and all
contrite and pleadin' wi' me to understand. Robert, she claimed,
was no' her brither but her lover. They were too poor to marry, she
said, and too in love to bear separation.

“I was too numb to be angry,
and I was calm when I told her to leave wi’ him. I told her she
couldna take aught from the house, though. It was all bought for a
carin' mistress o' the place, and I felt she had no right to any o'
it. She looked at me with those cursed blue eyes o' hers, tears on
her cheeks, and she told me she was sorry she'd hurt me. And when
she came toward me, words o' regret spillin' like honey from her
tongue, I was expectin' a wee kiss on the cheek for ma
troubles.”

Lachlan sighed deeply,
trying to camouflage the pain in the remembrance evoked.

“Wha' I got was a dirk in ma
heart—ma own great-grandfaither's, jewel-handled dirk, no less. No'
a flicker o' emotion was in her eyes when she done the
deed.

“Her and her Robert thought
I'd died right away. I could hear them discussin' wha' to do wi'
me, and there I lay, ma life's blood runnin' ou' o' me, and they
thinkin' I'd long since taken ma last breath.

“It was Robert's idea to
wall me up in the tower. I remember hopin' to hear a bit o' sadness
in Tessa's tone, but she was cold and anxious to be done wi' the
whole mess.

“Waitin' while Robert tore
ou' the wall to make ma grave, I kept thinkin' I should be dead by
now. The pain had stopped, but I could feel ma blood tricklin' ou'
o' ma body...so slow...so steady...and ma blood felt so hot while
ma body was growin' ever so cold as the time crept by.

“Robert dragged me into the
openin' he'd made, and kept crammin' me in tighter and tighter. I
didna find the strength to speak till he began to mortar the rocks
back in place. ‘Robert,’ I said, ‘dinna do this.’

“A terrible look o' fear
came into his eyes. For the longest time, he crouched there starin'
at me, and I found maself thinkin' he didna have the heart to go
on.

“But he did. Rock efter rock
was replaced. Afore he could seal me in completely, I warned him,
‘Robert, I'll never leave ma house. You'll never own ma
treasures.’”

Lachlan looked at Beth. Her
head was lowered and she was again fingering the jade
piece.

“It seemed to take forever
for me to die, Beth. I dinna know how long for sure, but I stayed
in tha' horrible darkness, tryin' to understand how it all could
have gone so wrong. I think I went to sleep, but it was no' a sleep
I awakened from in the usual sense.

“I was frightened by the
absence o' life at first. The grayness was so overpowerin'. In tha'
new beginnin', Beth, I couldna make maself seen. Och, I could scare
the wits ou' o' ma murderers, and efter a while, I discovered I
could keep them from takin' ma treasures, although the bulk o' ma
money was ou' o' ma power to protect.

“Beth, never trust a
bank.

“The anger didna come till
efter their first child was born,” Lachlan went on, his tone low
and raspy. “It was then I realized ma dreams were as lost as ma
life. Every whimper and laugh and cry I heard from the babe, dirked
me again and again.”

An ill-stifled sob was heard
from Beth. Lachlan looked at her bent head and drew in a breath
through his nostrils. He didn't want to cause her further sorrow,
or use her compassion to his advantage. But he needed her to
understand all the factors that had brought them both to this point
in time.

Going to the coffee table,
he sat on it across from her. He waited for her to look up. When
she didn't, he gently took the figurine from her and placed it on
the table alongside him. Then he leaned to, resting his forearms on
his legs above his knees. Angling his head to have a look at her
face, he found he could only discern her tightly compressed lips,
and the quivering of her chin.

“Dinna feel sad abou' ma
past. If I hadna so desperately wanted children, I might have seen
wha' was comin'.”

“Go on,” she choked, bending
her head further to avoid his prying eyes.

“All right, I
will.

“Tessa and her Robert had
nine children thegither, but their marriage was fraught wi' tears
and anger maist o' the time. Robert wanted to leave this place.
They had ma money and could live anywhere they wanted. But Tessa
was a spiteful womon. She could sense ma presence, and she
delighted in torturin' me wi' each child she bore in ma own
bed.