No Other Woman (No Other Series) (16 page)

Annoyed at herself, she swallowed down the surprising pang of jealousy. "Hello, welcome to the Highlands," she said to the two women, walking toward them and offering her hand.

Hawk followed her, his hands set gently upon her shoulders as he directed her first toward the blond. "Shawna, my wife, Skylar, and my sister-in-law, Sabrina."

"How do you do?" Shawna murmured, "Welcome to your Scottish holdings."

Sabrina smiled, and murmured a thank-you. She seemed pleasant enough, yet somehow distracted. Skylar Douglas, however, was enthusiastic. "I've just been telling your uncle and my husband how incredibly impressed I am with the way your family manages to handle so very much, and do it all so well. Thank you for all that you do for us here."

"It's... so little," Shawna said. She saw that Gawain was staring at her sternly over the top of Skylar Douglas's head. She tried to focus on what she was saying. "The estates have been entwined for so long, managing them as one is quite an easy feat, actually."

"Perhaps," Hawk said, "but these castles are ancient. And it is surely a feat in itself to keep both in such a sound state of repair."

"Indeed, the buildings are very old," Gawain said, coming around to address Skylar. "The Vikings came to the Hebrides and the isles, and taught us to erect sound defenses against them. Then the Norman conqueror seized Hastings and began to build defensive castles out of stone throughout England so that he could be sure to rule a people who continued to rebel against him. He battled the Lowlander Scots often enough, as did his heirs. In the Highlands, we've always been a breed apart, living in so northern and rugged a land, our own great cliffs and rocks and hills help to shield us from our enemies. But we learned from those enemies who ever sought ways to attack us that we needed strongholds as well. Your home was officially built as Grayfriar Castle, Lady Douglas, yet has been known since the twelfth century, when it was completed, as Castle Rock, for few structures have ever been built more solidly."

"It's quite fantastic," Sabrina commented.

Alistair joined them as Gawain had done. "But small," he said somewhat apologetically, "when compared with such structures as those found in London, Edinburgh, and the like. I'm afraid neither Castle Rock nor our own Castle MacGinnis compare to the truly grand castles and palaces that were built later."

"Ah, but there's more to the place than the size of the castle," Hawk said, smiling at his wife. "Highlanders are unique, as is the countryside."

"There is no country like this, anywhere, in the world," Shawna said. "You'll see tomorrow. The hills sweep out in endless shades of green with mauves cast in where you come upon the fields of wildflowers. The sky ranges from bright blue to silver to gray, and is streaked with pastels at dawn and dusk. The rock by the loch gives a cast of gray to various areas, and the water itself shimmers and dances beneath the sun." Shawna flushed, aware that her passion for her homeland had grown with her speech. "Well, you shall see," she murmured lightly.

Myer, as tall and straight and dignified as any butler might be for one of the grander castles to which Gawain had referred, appeared, clearing his throat. By habit, he glanced toward Shawna and Gawain, then remembered that the true laird of Castle Rock was home.

"M'laird. Supper is prepared. May we serve?"

"Indeed, please, it has been a long ride," Hawk said.

They assembled themselves at the table, Hawk at one end of it, Shawna facing him, her cousin and uncle to her left, Skylar and Sabrina to her right. Conversation flowed freely enough, with Shawna asking questions about America and the sea voyage and Skylar and Sabrina describing their trip, while Hawk gave Gawain and Alistair more serious queries regarding the estate and the mines. Shawna was very grateful then for the presence of both Gawain and Alistair, for although they might have designs on the Douglas lands, they were both being honest and sincere tonight, and keeping the homecoming for Laird Douglas all that it should be.

"Hawk," Shawna asked at last, "how is your situation at home?"

His smile faded, and he glanced briefly at his wife, before turning back to Shawna.

"The situation at home is extremely difficult, and I fear it grows worse daily."

"I'm truly sorry to hear that. I wish that there was something I could do to help."

He smiled at her from his distance down the table, a grim but accepting smile. "You do well for me here, Shawna, you and Gawain and your MacGinnis kin. You leave me free to attend to matters in my mother's country. I'm grateful. As I said in my letter, I'll not be here for long. I have to return home very soon."

"How soon?" Gawain asked quickly. He cleared his throat, and added politely, "You've just come."

Hawk nodded. "We'll stay just past the Night of the Moon Maiden, then we'll have to head back."

"The Night of the Moon Maiden..." Skylar repeated, offering Shawna a beautiful smile. "It sounds wonderfully romantic and mysterious."

Shawna laughed. "Ah, yes! Just three days away now! It's wonderful that you have come in time for it, but remember, it's just an ancient custom. Like dancing around a maypole. It's harvest time here, you see. And I suppose that in the olden days, that meant surviving the winter to the Highlanders, so they celebrated, and they thanked their gods. It all began way before Christianity came to the Highlands, of course, yet some things do linger. It's a charming night," Shawna supplied.

"And to the lairds of old, it was a prosperous night," Alistair interjected, "for many bairns to work the land in times to come were conceived upon that night."

"A madness with a reason behind it," Skylar commented.

Her sister choked slightly on her water.

"I'm sure you'll enjoy it."

"At one time, of course, a Moon Maiden was sacrificed," Alistair said.

"That practice ended many,
many
years ago," Shawna said firmly.

"Well, that's quite a relief," Skylar said.

"You would have been quite safe, as the laird's lady," Alistair told her with a mischievous grin. "Now, the lovely Sabrina, an innocent foreigner... she might have done well. But..."—he turned to Shawna—"the perfect sacrifice would have actually been my fair cousin."

"Alistair!"

Alistair laughed. "In fact, when we were younger, and Shawna proved to be too great a pest to us older boys, we did upon a time or two determine to tie her to the altar known as the Druid Stone—those standing rocks are known as the Druid Stones, plural—and pretend that we actually might get permission to offer her up to the gods."

"Alistair!" Shawna protested.

But Hawk was laughing, and even Skylar's sister seemed amused at last.

"Actually, I do remember an occasion when they did have you on the Druid Stone. You were spouting away furiously, ready to draw blood, and I think David came along and suggested that you must be let up before your father came out and saw to it that we were all switched for good measure," Hawk told her.

"Aye, and thank God you taught them about playing cowboys and Indians instead," Shawna said, turning to Skylar. "In your husband's games, my lady, the cowboys always lost."

"Knowing my husband, I'm quite sure anyone who went against him lost," Skylar said with a wry smile. She caught herself then just before yawning. "I am so sorry... I guess... if you'd be so good as to show us what sleeping arrangements have been made for us, I'd appreciate it very much."

Shawna glanced down the table to Hawk. "I've vacated the master's chambers for you and your wife, and Sabrina shall have the room to the left of them."

Hawk frowned, glancing from Shawna to Gawain. "I wrote that you were not to disturb your own living quarters, that I could not stay that long."

"I did not have my niece make changes, Hawk. Indeed, it seems I have little enough influence over the lass these days."

"I'm old, Uncle," Shawna said sweetly.

Hawk winked at Gawain. " 'Tis true, she's nearly decrepit."

"I'm twenty-four," Shawna said.

"You shall decay within the week!" Hawk assured her, smiling, but then adding seriously, "We cannot stay, that's why I asked you not to bother unduly with changes."

"I merely moved a few of my things to leave room for yours," Shawna said as she rose. "If you like, I can escort you—"

"I do know the way," Hawk murmured somewhat dryly.

"Of course." Shawna smiled. "Then if you'll excuse me, we had a bit of a trying day here as well."

"I heard," Hawk told her, staring at her in a way that unnerved her. His green eyes were so like his brother's. "We stopped for an ale at the tavern; I understand that you are quite the heroine among the people, rushing down into the shafts and trying to crawl into the most narrow of the tunnels to rescue a boy."

Shawna flushed. "We were all within the tunnels; Gawain, Lowell, Alistair, Alaric, Aidan, and I. It is our responsibility, we run the operation, nothing more."

"It is much more," Hawk assured her. He rose as well, as did the others. He set his hands upon his wife's waist in a gesture that was both possessive and tender.

"Well, thank you, I shall accept the compliment," Shawna said. "And I will bid you all good night, since you do know the way." She kissed Gawain and Alistair on their cheeks, bidding them good night. She walked to the foot of the stairway, looking back. Hawk remained at his wife's side. They were a gloriously beautiful couple, she so blond and delicate in appearance, he so dark and powerful. Shawna was suddenly quite glad for his happiness, and wretched in her own knowledge that Hawk would soon know that she would have a great number of good deeds to do ahead of her to make up for the treachery she had once practiced.

"Good night, Sabrina," she said as well.

Sabrina smiled. "Good night. Thank you for your care and hospitality."

"It's your sister's home," Shawna reminded her wryly.

"Still, it's in your care."

"I hope you'll allow me to show you some of what is MacGinnis property as well," Shawna told her.

"I'd be delighted."

"Do you ride?"

Hawk laughed. "Sabrina is a demon on horseback."

"I look forward to seeing this land through your eyes," Sabrina assured Shawna.

"Tomorrow, then," Shawna said. She looked at Hawk. "When we've finished with the books, of course."

She started up the stairs at last, slowly at first, then fleeing when she reached the second floor landing. She hurried down the hall to the narrower stairway that led to the attic rooms, and found the one she had chosen in the north turret. She entered her room, bolted it, and started pacing.

There was sufficient room to pace. Once upon a time, prisoners taken in warfare had been kept here, sometimes for months at a time, since Highland feuds could entail the necessity of a fair ransom before a hostage might be released. The room was circular in shape, with two windows. Both were smaller than the window in the master's chambers, but the one boasted steps and a small balcony as well, allowing the castle's "guest" to look out on the world where he or she was no longer free to roam.

It was fitting that she had come here. She felt like a prisoner.

She should have returned to Castle MacGinnis, she thought. But then, she'd departed the master's chambers here with such speed that she couldn't possibly have planned a great deal.

But now, this deed was done.

She sat upon the bed, shaking. Hawk was home, with his wife. And David would find the real help he needed in his brother now. She had lost complete control of her world, and there was nothing she could do about it.

She rose, distractedly shedding her clothing, donning her nightgown.
If David made any of his mysterious appearances tonight, he would crawl into his brother's bed.

It was what she had wanted; what he deserved.

What she had planned.

Yet she felt anxious now, worried that she had lost all chance of communication with David, that, in fact, she had lost David.

But she'd never had David. And what had once been something of a relationship had been lost five years ago.

Shawna doused the lights. Mary Jane had seen to it that she had a warm fire here. She curled up in the bed and stared at the flames. She closed her eyes against the light, anticipating a night of uninterrupted sleep.

* * *

With the door closed upon the master's chambers, Hawk walked up the steps to the window and balcony while Skylar looked around the room, at the ancient rock walls, the furniture that was hundreds of years old, and the Victorian touches that had added an element of elegance to the room.

"It's spectacular," Skylar said. She saw where Hawk had gone, and she quickly climbed the steps to join him, slipping her arms around his waist from behind him. "You are truly a diverse man, my love. I've now abided in the most elegant manor home, a tipi, and a castle." She laid her head against his back. "I pray that David is alive, Hawk. I know what it will mean to you."

He turned at her words, taking her into his arms. "I pray that he lives as well."

He still had no more evidence that his brother was alive than the mysterious message left with his attorney by a supposed "little jackanapes of a man" that he should come to the Druid Stones on the Night of the Moon Maiden.

That, and his brother's Douglas insignia ring.

He kissed his wife's lips lightly, then found that his mouth lingered upon them. "Let's get some sleep, shall we?" he said. "The journey has been agonizingly long, and I want to show you my father's ancestral home tomorrow." He was exhausted, but he wasn't sure he wanted to sleep yet. What he'd intended as a gentle brush of affection had created a slow burning within him; he was tired, but not too tired to desire his beautiful wife. "Well, let's at least get to bed," he suggested.

Skylar came down the steps, her fingers unfastening tiny buttons on her bodice. "There's a great deal here that's stunningly beautiful," she agreed. She turned back to him. "Like Lady MacGinnis."

Hawk couldn't help but smile. He'd thought the tempestuous days that had begun their marriage were in the past.