The Presence Part 27

"I was about to gather a search party," he said. "I told you that I'd tend to the horse, Toni. And he's doing well."

She nodded. "Yes, thanks."

She was still standing in the doorway.

"Are you coming in?" he asked her.

She nodded, but didn't move.

"Toni, what on earth is the matter with you?"

She swallowed. "Bruce, you weren't standing at the foot of the bed in a kilt about fifteen minutes ago, were you?"

"What? I was out with the horses, with Ryan." He sighed. "You're dreaming again?"

She shook her head. "No.. .no, I don't think that I'm dreaming. I think that I'm seeing the ghost of your ancestor." She gritted her teeth, watching the astonishment and total incomprehension that spread over his features.

"Toni, ghosts don't exist," he said.

"I'm seeing the ghost of your ancestor," she said firmly. "And he keeps taking me down to the crypts."

"That door is bolted," he said harshly. "I keep the only key."

"Come with me," she told him.

"Toni, I'm wearing a towel. I'd have to get dressed. You're barely dressed yourself, you know. That thing is entirely see-through."

"Come now," she insisted.

"In a towel?"

"We're the only ones up," she said, and turning, she went back down along the hallway.

"Toni, dammit!" he said, but followed behind her.

She realized she was almost running. He caught up with her on the stairway, swearing as he gripped her arm--he'd almost lost the towel.

"Toni, this is insanity."

"I'll show you!"

She wrenched free, and tore through the main hall and the secondary hall. At the door to the crypts she stood dead still. It was closed.

She grabbed the handle and tugged, but it was firmly bolted. She felt him behind her, felt his doubt and skepticism. And then her own.

She turned into his arms. "I saw him!" she insisted. "He opened this door, I went down it!"

"Toni, please, let's go to bed?" he said.

She was shaking, cold as ice. He lifted her, hugging her close to him as they traveled back the way they had come. He tried to tease her. "Don't wiggle too much. I'll lose the towel."

She wasn't wiggling. She wasn't moving.

"Toni...!" he murmured, distressed by her fear. She shook her head, curling her arms around his neck.

He opened the door, still ajar, to the master's chambers with his foot, and closed it the same way. He laid her upon the bed and told her, "I'll get you some tea.. .brandy? Something?"

"No!" she said, rising to throw herself into his arms again. "No, no, don't leave me, even for a second."

"Toni, it's all right here--"

"No, just hold me. Make love to me, be with me, alive, vital, flesh and blood. Do what you do so well, make everything else in the world fade away!"

"Toni!" he whispered again, his slate eyes searching her own.

"Now, please!" she begged.

And with that, he complied. His lips found hers, and tonight they were gentle, slow, even hesitant. But she wouldn't have it. Not that. She was fevered, clinging to him, pressing the kiss until it became one of the most volatile pa.s.sions. She ripped away his towel, frantic to be against him, to rid herself of every barrier between them. She was frenetic, electric against his flesh, needing every bit of heat and warmth, fevered, chaotic....

Until he caught hold of her, bore her down, gripped her wrists and began a far slower, far more sensual seduction, bathing her flesh with fire, with the brush of lips, teeth, tongue, hands, all eliciting a deep, slow hunger and anguish, and making her feel cherished, taken....

And as she had longed for, ached and needed, the world faded. Every thought was gone except for the perfect fit of his body to hers, the thunder of heartbeats, the drive of his s.e.x, his hips, the frenzied arch and writhe of her own.

She soared, flew and exploded beneath him, then felt the burst of searing warmth within her that was his climax. And still, there was the feel of him within her, growing softer, a part of her.. .his arms, holding her.

"Toni..."

"No, not tonight. Please, don't talk tonight!" she begged. "Just...hold me."

And so he did.

*Interlude*

"Bruce, please. Before G.o.d, I do not know what this man has said to you, but you are my life, and I'd not betray you, ever. Dear G.o.d! I love you, Bruce!" she whispered.

And looking down into her eyes, those pools of blue, sapphire with sincerity and the sweetness of the bond that had been theirs forever, he knew that she spoke the truth. He drew her to her feet.

"Ah, so he lied, and has not come as yet. But he will come, Annalise. Perhaps the Lord Cromwell has not taken to ordering the demise of the families of men such as myself, but neither would he punish a man, here, in what he considers the wilds of Scotland, a land of savages, who took a captive.. .and misused her. Our son is safe enough, following the young king in France. You can stay here no longer."

"Where would you have me go?" she whispered.

"To the Highlands. To the clansmen there, honor bound to protect you, my love."

"We could bring danger upon those men. And here, the castle--our son's inheritance--could fall to the enemy."

"A castle is mortar and stone, no more. And though no troops have come, in their eyes, the property is confiscated by the government, as it was. Nae, our hope is in the return of the king. And whether we are here or not, the day the king returns in triumph as Charles II of England will be the day we are justified, and all is restored."

She s.h.i.+vered suddenly. "What if that day never comes?"

"It will," he declared staunchly. He stroked her chin, reveled in the soft feel of her flesh and the beauty of her fine features. And more. Something that transcended anything mortal. The way that she looked at him. And all that they shared.

"I must get you away. Tonight."

"As you wish," she told him.

He held her against him, taking a brief moment to feel the heat between them, the beating of their hearts, a pulse that slowly melded, as well. He inhaled the scent of her, and thought that this, being together so, loving a person with such great pa.s.sion and being loved in return, was heaven. And he was humbled.

He pulled away from her.

She smiled, her lips damp, wistful and sensual.

"There's not so much as a night we could spend together first?"

"Not in this house," he told her, ruing the words. "We must get into the forest."

She nodded. "I'll get my things...."

"Bring little. We must travel fast."

She was quick, and she knew that his words were wise. As she prepared, Bruce spoke with his steward and his men, explaining that he was taking his lady away, and that, until the world was right again, the people mustn't give their own lives in a battle. But if they came, to allow the troops of the Protectorate in, let them do what they would, take what they craved, even unto the very stone of the castle. When Annalise came down to ride with him, many wept, but she gave them her cheerful, beautiful smile, swearing that all would be well.

And they rode together, both of them upon his great black mount.

He brought them into the forest. Finding a cove deep in the security of ancient oaks, he laid out his mantle, and there, surrounded by the softness of the night's breeze, the verdant richness of the woods, upon a bed of pines, he made love to her. As the moon waned high above them, he held her against his heart. Entwined, they found a night's rest, beauty and peace.

As the sun rose, he heard the snap of a branch. Leaping to his feet, he grabbed his sword. Somehow, they had been betrayed.

The sound was distant still, so he fell to his knees, waking her, his finger to his lips. "Dress, quickly. I'll leave the stallion. Take him ever north and westward, climb to the Highlands and await me."

"Where are you going? What are you doing?" she demanded with alarm.

"Leading them astray."

"No!" She threw herself against him.

"Annalise! I wage battle constantly, I know what I'm about. You must be away. Please, if I know that you are safe, I can fight any man!"

She rose, finding her clothing, scattered about, as he kilted himself into his tartan in silence. He held her then, once more. One last kiss.

"Go!" he urged her.

He bent low and moved silently, at first, until he had put distance between them. Then he let his presence be known. And he heard the activity in the forest, heard the horses, moving now far more carelessly through the trees.

He knew that his enemy waited before him, and his path veered just in time for the men to jump out from their hiding places too late.

His sword felled them both with a mighty swing.

But there were more.

Suddenly he was surrounded.

He found a path through the trees behind him, drawing them on. He was caught, and he knew it, but he fought like berserkers who had long ago come to Scotland, joining their Norse and Danish blood with that of more ancient tribes. He fought, not for his life, but for time--time for Annalise to depart to champions in the north.

That day, he brought down man after man. Yet, to no avail. For his enemy had ama.s.sed quite an army, and the men were bitter and incensed at the losses they had sustained in previous battle. Alone, he bore their a.s.sault, sustained wound after wound, and battled on.

Finally he stood in a field of corpses, but his great sword had been broken, and he was on his knees, blood dripping down his forehead into his eyes. The men around him backed away as Grayson Davis strode into the copse.

"Not such a hero now, are ye, man?" he demanded.

MacNiall looked up. "A hero? Always. For a man who believes in his ideals, and does not s.h.i.+ft with the winds of fortune, will always be remembered as such."

Davis strode closer to him.

"Do you know how you are about to die?"

"Aye, that I do."

"You will scream with pain, beg for mercy, before I am done. I swear it."

He further inflamed his foe's wrath by smiling. "There is nothing you can do to me now that will cause me to cry out."

"Nae?" Grayson said. "Well, then, let me show you what you must see before you even begin to die!"

*13*

By morning, Toni fully intended to talk to Bruce. Despite the fact that she was going to sound crazy, she meant to tell him that she was definitely seeing his ancestor, that a ghost had led her into the woods and was now leading her down to the crypts. But when she awoke, he was already gone.

David, sipping coffee and reading the paper in the kitchen, told her that he'd gone into town to see Jonathan.

"You all right?" he asked her.

"Yes.. .why?" She glanced at him, helping herself to the coffee.

"Why?" He shook his head and looked toward the doorway, a.s.suring himself that they were alone. "Because you're seeing...ent.i.ties. Ghosts. A disturbing presence, or something." He cleared his throat. "And Thayer told me that an old woman gave you some kind of look yesterday, and then said something absolutely horrible about you being found in die forest."

"She was just an old, superst.i.tious woman," Toni said.

David set his paper down and patted the chair next to him. "Sit. Talk to me. So, she didn't scare you at all, huh?"

"She put the fear of h.e.l.l and d.a.m.nation right into me!" Toni said, laughing. "But only for a minute. She has cataracts, so her eyes were a little.. .eerie. After she was gone and we talked with her son.. .well, I was fine. Even stayed in the cemetery by myself."

David smiled. She decided not to tell him about her nocturnal trips to visit more grave sites deep in the bowels of the castle. He was too worried about her already.

"Laird Bruce is certainly in a fine mood, so it seems," David said.

"Well, I don't suppose the old legend had much bearing on his day-to-day life," Toni said. "But yes, I guess he's really pleased to find out that his famous ancestor most probably was innocent of the murder of his wife."

"And, apparently, we are good for the village." He was silent for a moment, studying his cup. "You know, I had been afraid that we'd be somewhat ostracized here."