A Highland Folly (11 page)

“Neilli, enough! I have no need for your sarcasm tonight.”

“From what Mam says, it is obvious that
he
thought he had what you needed.”

“Neilli!” She glanced about the hall. Seeing servants eavesdropping, she tied her bonnet ribbons beneath her chin. “Where is Parlan?”

“He has already left.”

Anice did not answer as she went out into the already cool evening. That Parlan was going to be early for this meeting bothered her. He was never early for anything, preferring to make a grand entrance whenever possible.

She threw her fringed green shawl over her shoulders and called a greeting to Pippy, who was lying by the barn. Bonito stuck his head out the door, and she paused to pet his majestic head. With them to watch over the sheep, she need not worry tonight about anything but this meeting.

And Lucais
.

Why couldn't she get him out of her thoughts? She had been bird-witted to let him lure her into his arms. She must keep him from making a jumble of her thoughts tonight when she needed to concentrate on keeping tempers from exploding.

“Wait for me!”

Anice swallowed her groan as Neilli ran after her. She had not guessed Neilli would come to the meeting tonight, too. This was getting worse and worse.

Anice waited for Neilli to speak as they edged down the hillside. Her cousin remained silent as they reached the village that was aglow in the lingering twilight. Each of the dozen houses had candles lit against the coming darkness.

A man walked toward them. He was chuckling to himself. A pulse of dismay pierced Anice when she realized it was Neilli's twin.

“Parlan?” called Anice. When he grinned at her, she asked, “What is so amusing?”

“You should know that everyone is upset about what Potter said to auld Mr. McNab at the ferry berth along the river. Those English dogs should be sent back south with their tails between their legs.”

Anice pushed past him to go into Reverend Dole's house. She would have asked herself how much more awful the night could become, but she was afraid she could not even imagine the answer to that.

She was greeted at the door by Sir Busby. “I was afraid you were not joining us tonight,” he said in a low whisper.

“You should not have fretted about that. You know I want to be here to gauge the temperament of the conversation. How many are here?”

“Mrs. Tawes invited everyone she has spoken to during the past two days.”

“I was afraid of that.” She forced a smile as she motioned for him to precede her into the parlor. The rumble of the voices made her suspect nearly everyone in Killiebige had come here tonight.

“Reverend Dole asked me to stay here by the door and keep an eye out for trouble.”

“What trouble does he expect?”

“None, we hope, but if the road crew were to try and join us tonight …” His wry grin suggested he was hoping the meeting was disrupted.

Because he saw the trouble brewing here in Killiebige as she did or because he wanted to teach Lucais's men a lesson? Anice yearned to remind him that nothing would be gained by fisticuffs. Through her mind played Lucais's words urging her to remain at Ardkinloch.

She went into the parlor. Chairs were lined up like pews in the kirk. She selected one in the back row right behind where Neilli and Parlan were whispering together as Reverend Dole called the meeting to order.

The first topic was Mr. Potter's meeting with Mr. McNab by the river. Anice's lips tightened into a frown when she heard how the foreman from the road crew had tried to intimidate Mr. McNab. The ferryman had come to the pastor seeking help to keep the road crew from confiscating his boat if he did not offer free service to them. Was it the truth? She could not imagine Lucais ordering such a thing, but she knew how bent he was on making this project a success.

Sir Busby strode to the front of the room, abandoning his place by the door as calls rose for everyone to go to the road camp and confront the English road crew. His attempts to calm the meeting were shouted down. There was desperation in his eyes as he glanced toward Anice. She started to rise, but he motioned for her to remain where she was as he tried again to regain control of the meeting with Reverend Dole's help.

When a hand settled on her shoulder, Anice turned in her seat. Dismay filled her as she met Lucais's eyes. “What are you doing here?”

He smiled as he sat next to her. “
On-dits
suggested that this meeting was open to anyone concerned with the road project. You certainly cannot deny that I am concerned with it.”

“You are going to end this evening with a rope around your neck if you do not leave right away.”

“And miss your rousing speech?”

“I am not speaking tonight.”

“No?”

“Lucais, go before you cause more trouble.”

“Too late.” He motioned with his head toward the front of the room. “Reverend Dole seems eager to gain your attention. Do you think I might be the reason?”

“Probably wants to know why I have not had someone throw you out!”

He slid his arm around her shoulders as he said loudly enough for the others in the abruptly silent room to hear, “My dear Anice, such thoughts are quite out of place in a pastor's house. Why not keep them for later?”

Her face burned. Her mouth refused to form the words to ask why he was trying to turn her neighbors against her, when she wanted only the best for this valley. Looking across the room, she saw Sir Busby's lips twist in outrage. Surprise bleached Reverend Dole's face. Neilli and Parlan turned as one to stare at her.

Anice rose and looked down at Lucais. His smile matched the iciness in his eyes as she said, “Leave and take your tales with you.”

“Are you so eager to go, Anice?” Standing, he stepped toward her.

Fearfully she backed away, no longer caring that her neighbors were watching. She could not let Lucais beguile her as he had in the sheep barn. A single touch would bring forth the enchantment. If she allowed that, she feared she would be lost.

Anice struck a hard form. The hardening of Lucais's smile warned who stood behind her.

“Why don't you leave Lady Kinloch alone?” Sir Busby asked.

“Mayhap she does not want to be left alone.” Lucais's smile did not waver.

“Can't you tell when a lady doesn't want your company, MacFarlane?” He tried to step past Anice in the narrow space between the chairs.

Putting her hand on Sir Busby's arm, Anice said, “Don't argue with him! He wants to disrupt this meeting, and you're playing right into his hands.” She looked at Lucais. “Why don't you leave before someone gets hurt?”

Lucais folded his arms over his chest. “I had understood this was a public meeting, open to all. No one said anything about closing it to me and my crew.”

“Then
I
am saying so!” Sir Busby retorted. “Begone, before you make one of us forget we are in the pastor's house.”

“If you think—”

Anice did not wait for Lucais's threat. Enough had been said. Afraid that her words would condemn her once and for all, she knew she must end this. “Lucais, leave! Please! This is not the time or place to air your opinions.”

Brazenly Lucais put a finger beneath her chin, tipping it up so she could not escape his intense gaze. “Only because you asked.”

For a moment, she feared he would bring her lips to his. Then she was horrified to realize she feared even more that he would not. With a cool smile, he nodded a farewell to Sir Busby, and to Reverend Dole, who was watching, appalled. He left a rumble of angry and confused conversation in his wake.

Anice heeded none of it. Gripping the back of the chair beside her, she tried to slow her breathing. She was sure she had not taken a single breath while Lucais's fingertip caressed her chin. The luscious, perilous pleasure enticed her to him. This was a madness beyond imagination. She raised her head to look around the room. She recoiled before the recriminating rage aimed at her.

Wanting to say something to calm the room, Anice knew no one would believe now that she had urged Lucais to stay away. She pushed past Sir Busby as she flung her shawl over her shoulder.

“Are you with us?” Sir Busby called after her.

Her steps faltered. Turning, she said, “I am with you in your fury about how Mr. McNab was treated.”

“And about stopping the bridge from being built?”

“My mind has not been changed on that matter.” She did not add that she was as uncertain about it as she had been from the beginning.

She gave him no time to answer as she rushed out of the minister's house and toward the path leading up to Ardkinloch. Staring up at the first stars poking through the night, she wished she could seek the sanctuary of the cottage on the brae tonight. She needed time to unravel the confused thoughts cluttering her head.

“Racing away from your charming neighbors, Anice?”

She stopped, not astonished to see Lucais sitting on a rock that gave him a good view of the village. He must have been waiting for her. “No, I am hurrying home to speak with my family.” When she started past him, he put out his hand to halt her.

She edged around it. “How dare you!”

He caught her arm and spun her to face him. “How dare I what, Anice? Not fight for what I believe in? I care about the road and the good it could bring to this valley.”

“I know.” Her voice became a whisper. “I know that.” She closed her eyes. “It would be so much easier if I did not see your side of this, too.”

“Then help me convince them, Anice.”

“No, I cannot do that.” She raised her gaze to his shadowed eyes. “Mayhap if I had not heard what Mr. Potter said to Mr. McNab—”

His oath startled her, for she had never heard him speak so. When he demanded that she tell him what had happened, she explained. His next curse was even more bitter. “If I did not know better, I would say Potter is the best ally the villagers could have.”

“You should all leave Killiebige.”

“If that's how you feel,” he murmured as he released her, “good night, Anice.”

“Good night?” She had been certain he would argue further.

“'Tis clear that nothing I can say or do will change your mind to make you see sense.”

“Nor will I be able to change
your
mind to make
you
see sense.”

“A stalemate.”

She sighed and nodded, rubbing her suddenly cold hands together. “Certainly not a truce.”

He took her hand and raised her fingers to his lips. He kissed them lightly. When they trembled, his smile broadened. “Is it possible that you and I cannot be enemies?”

She stared at him but could not see his face to gauge his expression in the shadows. “We have never been enemies. We just do not agree on some things.”

“But we agree on other things.” Again he pressed his lips to her hand. “We agree that this is very pleasurable.”

“Do we agree as well that you should refrain from such forwardness?” She hoped her cold tone would hide her eager reaction to his touch.

He laughed and kissed her cheek swiftly. “You are right, Anice. There
are
some things we disagree on now. Mayhap I can convince you to change your mind.”

She stared after him as he walked down the hill. Her fingers rose to brush her cheek, which had been set ablaze by his kiss. It had been a battle of wills between them from the start, but now she must contend with her heart, which urged her into his arms.

That was a struggle she feared she was doomed to lose.

Eight

Lucais stood on the crest of ridge and watched the dust rise from the work on the road. A rigid expression stiffened his lips. Brushing his hand over a lichen-embroidered boulder, he sat on it and viewed the work objectively.

It was going well. On this side of the river, the passage along the hillside was beginning to resemble a road. Trees were being felled as men graded the steep bank. Everything was going well as the road followed the edge of the Kinloch property. Everything was going well. Now.

He shook his head. How could he persuade Potter to consider all the ramifications of the orders his assistant gave? A week's work had been saved only because another of the men had noticed what Potter had overlooked. If the gunpowder had been lit, it might have sent an area they needed for one of the bridge supports right into the river, changing its course and wrecking any hopes of building the bridge here.

Potter had argued that he was being undermined by both the men who were jealous of his position and by the villagers who wanted to destroy the project. Lucais had listened, had the blasting area realigned, and then had supervised the rest of the day's work himself, determined that the project would not come to such a humiliating end.

Lucais tapped his fingers on the rock. Anice was willing to consider that the road and the bridge might benefit Killiebige, although she had not been able to persuade her cousins to be as sensible. Mayhap the cooler heads in the village would heed her if she suggested that they open their minds.

“Not likely,” he grumbled as he watched the navvies smoothing the roadbed.

Lucais wandered along the ridge, appraising, from up there, the rocks that needed to be removed. The sun burned through his thin shirt to burnish his shoulders with heat. Wafting upward from the river, the breeze twisted its unseen fingers through his hair as he wished Anice would.

Clasping his hands behind his back, he lengthened his steps. He must forget her enticing eyes and alluring lips. She was planted firmly in Scotland. He had escaped here once, and he would not be entrapped here by her sweet touch. His obligations could be fulfilled away from the Highlands.

In spite of himself, he glanced along the river. Could that duty be shrugged off so easily? His father never had believed that was so, and, after seeing Anice working hard to keep Ardkinloch from falling into chaos, he was no longer certain of that.