Everlastin' Book 1 (40 page)

Lachlan complied without
hesitation. The hand kneading her breast slid down her belly and
moved between her thighs.

But as he was about to
explore her readiness, the bedroom door slammed open and a figure
breezed by.

Beth and Lachlan bolted up
on the bed, Beth scrambling beneath the quilt to hide her
nakedness. Both stared wide-eyed at the bathroom door. A stream of
invectives—laced with a pronounced burr—came from within. Water
could be heard going down the tub's drain. There was a rattling of
something, then of something else being dragged across the floor. A
cabinet door was opened. Seconds later it was slammed shut. Several
minutes ticked by before Roan emerged from the bath room carrying a
wastebasket heaped with sopping towels. His face was flushed with
anger, his movements stilted.

“I'm losin' ma mind,” he
muttered. “How did the little monsters get up here? I would
swear—”

He looked at the motionless
couple on the bed, but it was several seconds before his mind
cleared enough for him to grasp the meaning of the bathroom
flood.

And another several seconds
before he realized what he had interrupted.

His face crimson, he
stammered, “Land s-sakes, mon! You s-scared the w-wits ou' o'
me!”

The couple continued to
stare at him as if they were frozen in time.

“There's water leakin'
through the ceilin' b-below,” Roan went on, glancing about the room
in a futile attempt not to stare at the couple. “I thought...weel,
I'm no' sure wha' I thought.” He looked at them again and managed a
wan smile of apology. “I'd no idea you were—” His mortification
darkened. “I'd better leave.”

He was halfway to the door
when the wastebasket slipped again from his hands. The towels
plopped onto one of the Persian throw rugs. Falling to his knees,
he scrambled to get them back into the basket, but his frayed
nerves made it impossible for him to grip the container
properly.

As soon as he attempted to
stand, the basket and its contents thumped to the floor
again.

“For pity's sake, mon!”
Lachlan gasped. Quickly leaving the bed, he gathered up the towels
and crammed them back into the basket. But instead of handing the
basket to Roan, he purposefully shoved it aside then gave the other
man a helping hand to his feet.

“I canna say much for yer
timin', but there's no need to get yer liver in a
squeeze!”

“Lachlan, be nice,” Beth
chuckled, clutching the quilt to the base of her neck. “We were
careless with the tub water, Roan. We'll clean it up.”

A nervous tick came into
Roan's eyes as he forced himself to look at the mistress of the
house. “Ma apologies, Miss—”

“Beth.”

“It's good to see—” His
voice cracked on the latter word. “—you again.”

She smiled her warmest for
him.

A sound seeped up through
the floors below.

Roan looked dazedly at
Lachlan. “Someone's at the door.”

“Tha' probably means you
should answer it, aye?” Lachlan said with a devilish
grin.

“But who would—”

“Could be Miss
Cooke.”

The sound came again, more
insistent.

“Show her to the library.
I'll meet you there in a bit.”

“In clothin', I hope,” Roan
grumbled, critically looking over Lachlan's nudity. Then shock
whitened his handsome face. “The lads! We just got those little
boogers down for a nap!”

When Roan ran from the room,
Lachlan looked at Beth and laughed.

“Miss Cooke?” Beth sighed.
“Don't tell me we're going to be interrupted by business
again.”

“I'm no' sure why she's
here,” Lachlan said, going to the bed and planting a kiss on the
tip of Beth's nose. “But her timin' couldna be better.”

“Why?”

“Loose ends,
darlin'.”

Lachlan went to a wardrobe
across the room. Aware that Beth was watching his every move, he
took his time donning clean black pants and a red shirt. Socks and
his boots were put on last then he returned to the bed and gave
Beth a teasing kiss on the lips.

“Winna be long, I
promise.”

Beth waited until she heard
the door close after him before she tossed the quilt aside. She
wasn't peeved that Lachlan was leaving her out of his 'business'
again, but she was determined to be a part of whatever was going
on.

Not wanting to take the time
to get something of her own from the room across the hall, she
slipped into one of Lachlan's shirts, a blue one, and a pair of his
socks. She gingerly combed her fingers through her curly mane as
she padded toward the door, a bounce in her steps that bespoke of
her cheery mood. It didn't occur to her to simply materialize in
the library...at least not until she was stepping off the staircase
on the first floor.

From the direction of the
kitchen, a woman came from the secondary hall and stopped in her
tracks upon seeing Beth.

The woman's green eyes
widened. A delicate flush colored her cheeks. With visible effort
to compose herself, she walked up to Beth and extended a hand. The
handshake was brief. Beth wasn't sure what to say to the Laura
Bennett.

“Are you the mistress of
this house?”

A crooked smile twitched at
one corner of Beth's mouth. “I think so.”

The woman's expressive eyes
showed a moment of uncertainty. “I-umm...this is very
awkward.”

“Are you and your nephews
comfortable?”

“Yes, but I
really—”

“I'm sorry,” Beth
interjected, as kindly as she could. “I'm late for a
meeting.”

“Oh, but—”

“Sorry.” Beth practically
dashed in the direction of the library. Sliding the door aside, she
slipped into the room and closed it after her. She turned to find
three pair of eyes on her. Roan's were full of amusement. Lachlan
was scowling in disapproval of her attire. The elderly woman, Viola
Cooke, appeared to be shaken by Beth's unexpected arrival, but she
was quick to offer the mistress of Baird House a smile.

“How good to see you again,
Beth,” she said, her warble of a voice higher-pitched than
usual.

“I was hoping for a chance
to apologize to you for Halloween.”

“No need, my dear.” She
giggled. “Actually, you added a bit of spice to the
séance.”

“C'mon here,” Lachlan cooed,
drawing Beth into his arms. His elation rapidly seeped into her,
prompting a glow to heighten her features. “Beth, darlin', I'm so
happy I can hardly stand maself.”

“Are you, now?” she laughed,
staring into his sparkling eyes. “I know what you're
planning.”

Lachlan arched a brow. “Does
it please you?”

“Oh, yes. Tell him,
Lachlan.”

Draping an arm about her
shoulders, he planted a kiss on her temple, then looked at Roan.
“Laddie, the time's come to legalize ma promise.”

The two men stared into each
other's eyes, Roan's expression one of apprehension. “I've a bad
feelin' in ma stomach, Baird. I'm really no' in the
mood—”

“Och, be still and listen
for once,” Lachlan said merrily. He looked at the elderly woman.
“Miss Cooke, you've been a good friend for a number o' years, and
it has meant a lot to me to have you to depend on. You, yer mither,
and yer grandmither have been good to me and ma home.”

“It's been our pleasure, Mr.
Baird.”

“Weel....” Lachlan's grin
was sheer charm in itself. “I need you again, sweet lady. You see,
Beth and I would like to retire from the hauntin'
business—”

“Oh, but Mr.
Baird—”

“Now, now, Miss Cooke,”
Lachlan cooed, releasing Beth and taking one of the old woman's
hands between his own. “I'm too happy to be lamentin' the wrongs o'
the past. Ingliss here, weel, he and I have made our peace, and
Beth and I would like to go on wi' our lives—such as they
are.”

Viola's eyes misted with
tears. Although she was reluctant to let go of her favorite—her
only true ghost—she could never deny Lachlan Baird
anything.

“I do,” she sniffled. “What
can I do for you?”

Lachlan bent over and
planted a kiss on her wrinkled cheek. “Ye're the salt o' the earth,
Miss Cooke,” he said, straightening up. “I want this Ingliss to
have ma home and everythin' in it.”

“Wha’!” Roan gasped. He came
around from the back of the sofa to face Lachlan. “Wha' are you up
to, Baird?”

“Keepin' ma word,” Lachlan
said matter-of-factly, and clapped a hand on the man's shoulder. A
bewildered frown flitted across Roan's face, deepening Lachlan's
grin. “Tis all yers, laddie. All ma treasures I'm passin' down to
you—exceptin' Beth.” He looked at her and winked. “She's the only
one I intend to keep everlastin'.”

“I'm the only one
you
can't
get rid
of,” Beth said happily.

“Thank God.” Lowering his
arm, Lachlan searched Roan's bemused face. “I only ask tha' you put
aside the grievances o' the past and make this yer
home.”

Pain throbbed at Roan's
temples, adding to his befuddled state of mind. “I-umm, I can’t
afford the upkeep.”

“I've already given you some
o’ the precious stones. The ithers and the money I have stashed
away will mair’n set you for life.”

“I don't want yer damn
money!” Roan drew in a deep breath to compose himself. “I'm a
builder. I work wi' ma hands. I'm no' the kind o' mon to live in a
grand house!”

“Tis grand, all right,”
Lachlan said softly, his tone touching upon something deep within
Roan. “But tis an empty house, aye? Ye're a young mon wi' prospects
for the future. Hopes and dreams...no' unlike how I was afore ma
daith. I've wasted immeasurable energies keepin' away yer family,
Ingliss. But had things been different, this would have been
yer
family's
home.”

“He's right,” Beth said,
coming to stand alongside Lachlan. Linking an arm through his, she
rested the side of her head against his arm. But her gaze was upon
Roan's pallid face. “Your history is here, too.”

“I don't know wha' to say,”
Roan murmured and raked a hand through his hair. He looked into
Lachlan's eyes, his own dulled with bewilderment. “I came here to
banish you.”

Lachlan grinned and
nodded.

“I came here to rid ma
family o' you!”

“I know. Roan, tis a
wonderful gift I'm offerin' you.”

Words bubbled up in Roan's
throat, but before he could speak, he went through numerous hand
gestures and shrugs. “Why, though?” he finally gushed. “Ye're
willin' to give everythin' up, just like tha'?” he asked, snapping
his fingers in emphasis.

“Aye.” Stepping behind Beth,
Lachlan wrapped his arms about her. “Wha' I've gained—” He kissed
the top of Beth's head. “—is far mair than wha' I've ever had. This
place was built for the livin', Roan. A mair worthy mon to carry
on, I couldna find if I tried.”

Roan looked from Lachlan, to
Beth, to Miss Cooke, his astonishment a cloak about him. “There's a
catch here,” he said with a nervous laugh.

Beth and Lachlan exchanged a
look of wry amusement.

“There is a condition,”
Lachlan admitted.

“I knew it! Come now, you a
swine, wha' is it?”

“Weel, Beth and I would like
to have the use o' the master bedroom for a wee time mair. A few
months or so. Tis the only room I ask you to leave alone and
locked. For our privacy, you understand.”

“The master bedroom?” Roan
looked at Miss Cooke and frowned. At least she was as confused as
he by this request. “You want the room kept locked?”

“Tis all I ask. You've
already agreed to see the womon and the boys to
Edinburgh.”

Roan gave a shake of his
head. “I'm goin' to wake up. I know it.”

“It will make us both very
happy to have you here,” Beth said softly. “You have it within you,
Roan, to bring hope and laughter back into this house.”

Lachlan held out a hand. “Do
we have a deal, Roan?”

Roan stared at the
outstretched hand for a long moment before clasping it. With
difficulty, he looked into Lachlan's dark eyes. He was sure there
was an ulterior motive, but he was too rattled to try to sort
through his fevered thoughts at this time.

He had never wanted the
house or Lachlan's treasures. He had never thought about any of it
one way or the other. What would he do with a place like Baird
House?

“That's up to you,” Lachlan
chuckled.

Roan numbly gave a shake of
his head. “I've got to think abou' this. It's a lot o'
responsibility.”

“You keep in touch wi' Miss
Cooke. When ye're ready, let her know.”

Looking at the old woman,
Roan gulped past the tightness in his throat.

“Miss Cooke?”

Viola's features were
glowing with awe as she looked up into Lachlan's face. “Yes, Mr.
Baird?”