No Other Woman (No Other Series) (45 page)

"Oh?"

"A Douglas tartan—or Sioux feathers."

"Oh!" Shawna laughed. More hesitantly she asked Sabrina, "And... er... Major Trelawny?"

"Oh, there's no question," Sabrina muttered, straightening one of the garments on her lap. "He'll be in feathers." She must have realized the bitter sound of her tone. She smiled at Shawna. "What will you wear?"

Shawna offered her a wry smile in turn. "Again, there's no question. I will come in my MacGinnis colors."

"You'll wear Douglas," came a harsh, masculine voice.

Shawna jumped up. David was standing in the doorway, watching them. He came into the room, picking up an old dress, running his fingers over the fabric.

"I will wear MacGinnis colors," she said firmly.

"Lady MacGinnis, you've lived in the Douglas stronghold nearly five years now, taken charge of Douglas affairs. Tonight, you'll wear Douglas colors." He didn't wait for her agreement, perhaps knowing full well that she wouldn't give it. He would brook no argument; his mood was totally ruthless, as if he had completely lost patience. Yet the more tension that seemed to fill him, the less Shawna thought they might have any rational discussion on any matter.

He was cold to her and distant today. But he had told her that if she fulfilled a promise, she'd have Danny back after the Night of the Moon Maiden.

"The constable is downstairs," David continued. "He wants a word with us. Shawna, you'll need to explain how you knew where to look for Sabrina." He turned on his heels, leaving them. The women looked at one another, scrambled from their tasks, and hurried down the stairs.

Two hours later, the constable left. Shawna and David remained in the great hall alone.

Shawna was aggravated. David shrugged.

"What were you expecting?" he asked of her.

"He is the constable. I was expecting him to be more helpful."

"I've warned you before that we have to solve this ourselves. The constable thinks that we are harboring a community of witches, and they are all protecting one another. He's glad I'm alive—I thought that was quite decent of him. And he seemed heartily glad that Sabrina is found, alive and well."

"He hasn't taken much of this seriously at all."

David watched her carefully, replying slowly to her. "To the constable, m'lady, it appears that I was merely knocked on the head, and consequently lost from my home by regrettable accident—an untruth I am quite willing to encourage at this time."

"Why? Why don't you shout the truth, and force the constable to—"

"Someone tried to kill me, but my life was saved. The truth could endanger Alistair. Then, as to the sounds the miners hear, the constable is a steady, intelligent fellow. He doesn't believe in ghosts. Like your great-uncle, he believes that the wind whistles through the rocks. In his mind, Sabrina was surely taken as a lark. And the figures in the cemetery, shooting at us—" He paused and shrugged. "Well, to the constable, that just proves that allowing women to practice Wicca here is dangerous. Scotland was right to burn witches all those years."

Shawna groaned with impatience. "We've both known Edwina since we were children. She learned her herbal potions from her mother, and she and the other women practice earth healing, and a gentle way—"

"I'm telling you what the constable sees. He's quite impatient. We should turn in the witches for whatever crimes we can find that we can accuse them of legally."

"What about the body on the Druid Stone?"

"Definitely the prank of errant young men. Their fathers should discover them, and see that they are all switched."

She stared at him, her blue gaze sharp, hard, and cold. "And what about Danny?"

He crossed his arms over his chest, returning her stare. "Ah, Danny. That's the most obvious—to the constable, of course. You were Lady MacGinnis. You couldn't bear the stigma of an illegitimate birth, and, of course, since it appeared the father was quite dead, there was no way you would marry. You wouldn't do anything truly terrible to your own child—such as doing away with it. Bringing the babe back to Craig Rock to be raised locally—and then adopted into the castle—seemed a well-thought-out plan."

Shawna felt her anger seep into her. Dear God, it sounded as if that was exactly what David thought himself.

"David, you are being wretched."

"I'm telling you how the constable sees events, m'lady," he informed her.

"And how Fergus Anderson sees them. Fergus has assuredly told you the truth."

"Mary Jane most definitely gave him the child," David said. He sounded tired then. Bone weary.

"And Mary Jane is gone."

"With all of her belongings."

"I still can't believe—"

He gripped her wrists. "Believe, Shawna. Believe, because all these things have happened. Believe, because you lost more than four years of your child's life, just as I believe, because I lost nearly five years of my own."

He released her, and turned away.

"It's growing dark. It's time to prepare for tonight."

"I'm wearing MacGinnis colors."

"Tonight, you'll wear Douglas."

"I'll not—"

"You will."

His eyes narrowed. "MacGinnis colors would make wonderful confetti."

"Since the world is aware that you are alive now, Laird Douglas, if you threaten me now, my cousins will be obliged to tear you apart!"

"Do you think so?" he queried. He crossed his arms over his chest."Shall we risk battle within the house? Both Hawk and Sloan are experts with numerous weapons."

"You are a madman!" she assured him.

"A madman with a purpose." He reached out a hand to her. "You'll wear my colors, and you'll stay at my side. Throughout the night. Douglas plaid, m'lady. Now. And if you think that you're going to stand against me, I promise I will make confetti of your family colors, I do so swear it."

"You truly are a tyrant."

"Remember that. Test me tonight, and you will spend the evening tied to the Druid Stone," he said, his eyes hard on hers as he held her wrist.

"You are so certain that something is going to happen tonight!" Shawna cried out. "What if—what if the night is uneventful, what if we learn nothing? Do we just go on, forever suspicious of one another?"

"Something will happen tonight."

"But if it doesn't... David, I want Danny back!" Shawna cried.

He swung on her. Suddenly he had her shoulders in a rugged grip as he stared down at her. "Don't you understand. I took him away because it's not safe for him here, Shawna! Damn it, it isn't safe."

"I want—my child!" she whispered.

"I have told you, after tonight, everything will be different."

She pulled away from his grasp.

"Excuse me, Laird Douglas, the night does draw near!"

Shawna escaped his touch. She hurried up the stairs, aware that Sloan lounged at the landing to the second floor—and James McGregor kept watch when she entered her tower room. She stared at him balefully, then slammed her way into the bedroom.

She came back out. "James, I'm quite sorry about last night."

"I know, m'lady. You wanted to wander on your own."

She frowned. "Aye. I am sorry."

"Apology accepted. And now, m'lady, don't be trying to shake me this evening, eh?"

"I shall be an angel. I promise."

She hurried back into her room. She had beautiful long woolen skirts in her own colors—and in the Douglas tartan. She hesitated, then swore, and dressed in a white laced blouse, the Douglas skirt, and her black vest and jacket.

Dusk was falling.

Already, out by the Druid Stones, bonfires had been lit. She heard the sounds of pipe-playing, laughter. She turned to exit the room, and went still when she saw that David had come for her.

David, Laird Douglas.

He was kilted in his full dress tartan, black velvet jacket over his white cotton shirt, Douglas crest upon his chest.

"It's time," he told her.

She took his hand. His touch upon her still felt cold and hard.

"I should be wearing my own colors," she told him, as they went down the stairs.

"Soon you'll understand why you're clad this way," he told her.

"My mode of dress is going to help us find those who attempted to kill you?"

"Your mode of dress will serve as a warning that we stand together," he said.

The castle's great hall was already empty. Myer stood outside the main doors with horses for them. Though the Druid Stones were an easy walk from the castle, as laird of Castle Rock, David needed to arrive on horseback.

"Are you ready, m'lady?" he inquired.

"For the night that we will meet our devils?" she inquired.

"Aye."

"How can you be so sure that someone will act?" she demanded.

"Because," he said, "we are a unique people. The Highlanders of Craig Rock. Traditions are ancient—and the moon is very full."

"We are Highlanders—not madmen!"

David stared up at the full moon, his features as striking as those of any ancient warrior.

"Aye, 'tis sure, we're not all madmen. But the moon has a powerful call, and the lore or legend is just as great. If we do have madmen among us, they will act. The moon will be as strong upon the blood in their veins as it is upon the tides in the sea. Shall we ride?"

Shawna stared at him, then nudged her horse.

And began to canter toward the Druid Stones.

Standing starkly white beneath the bright eerie light of the full moon.

Chapter 24

Violins and pipes played, men and women danced, ate, laughed, and played as they arrived at the Druid Stones. Tables were laden with wine and ale; giant pits had been dug for meat to be roasted.

David overtook Shawna, riding a half-length ahead of her. A massive cheer went up as he appeared, and as he greeted those who rushed forward to welcome him and wish him well. He dismounted from his horse and turned to help Shawna down from hers. Old friends embraced him. Village lasses blushed and curtsied, too, some brushing happy kisses upon his cheeks before hurrying away. Shawna realized that she had forgotten just how charming he could be, how gracious, and how the people of Craig Rock had loved him.

When they came to the flat stone where Anne-Marie had stumbled upon the corpse that morning, there was nothing but a lovely purple cloth and lanterns upon it. Excitement nearly crackled in the air; the arrival of the laird meant that the feast had truly begun.

David strode for the flat stone, keeping Shawna's hand locked in his own. The Reverend Massey waited there, ready to offer David a crown of flowers amid a great deal of cheering. He accepted his crown, and turned and crowned Shawna with a second such tiara that had been made for the laird's chosen lady.

Shawna found her pleasure in the evening suddenly real. This was her home. She was a Highlander of Craig Rock through and through, and she loved the tradition of the night, the laughter, the dancing, the contests. She smiled at friends, and saw Edwina, dressed beautifully as a sprite.

"To the people of Craig Rock!" David shouted, and the music stilled along with the dancing and shouting. The merrymakers, clad in all manner of costume from the beautiful to the bizarre—ladies, pirates, knights, animals, and mythical creatures—stopped to pay him heed. The night suddenly became so silent it was uncanny.

"My thanks that you are so gracious to welcome me back after such an awkward absence. I cannot tell you how pleased I am to be back with you, how grateful I am to be greeted warmly by so many dear old friends. And now, as laird of the festivities, I say—eat, drink, be merry!"

A cheer rose high on the air. Shawna, still close by David's side, noted that Hawk, Sloan, James, and her cousin Alistair seemed to be posted at the four corners of the Stones. As usual, she thought, the men had made plans.

About which they had neglected to inform the women.

"But there's more!" David continued. "As laird of Castle Rock, I am naturally free to choose my lady for the Night of the Moon Maiden. I've taken my lady, but I would do more. I invite you to join with me in a special feast this night. My wedding feast. I would like to take this occasion to invite you one and all to witness the joining of the Douglases and MacGinnises."

Stunned, Shawna stared at him. What was he doing? She felt a sudden, terrible pain in her heart. Marriage could not be part of a plan to catch criminals.

"I will not marry you!" she whispered. She did not need to speak so low. The cheers all around them were deafening. She tried to smile for the people who looked upon her with such affection, while desperately wondering what to do in the situation.

Mark Menzies was cheering delightedly; Edwina had clapped her hands to her cheeks with pleasure.

Anne-Marie was happily sobbing.

Even her own kin. She saw Gawain watching her and she realized that Gawain had known what David intended. Oddly enough, it seemed, David had properly asked Gawain, as the oldest male MacGinnis, for her hand.

She tried to tug free from him.

She had loved him all her life. She had wanted to be Lady Douglas, his wife.