No Other Woman (No Other Series) (44 page)

This one was rather a tiny shriek.

Then she passed out cold, falling flat with such deadweight against her husband that she brought Myer crashing down to the floor beneath her.

Alistair and Alaric bent quickly to help the struggling Myer.

Gawain stared at David, blue eyes cold and fierce upon him.

"By God, indeed, it is you. David Douglas. Laird Douglas. Sir, you must take care—a ghost is far more frightening than a corpse." His eyes remained hard upon David. What emotions he felt, he kept to himself. "David! Returned from the dead. Well. Welcome home, Laird Douglas. Welcome home."

Chapter 23

Shawna had no conception of how David planned to explain his sudden appearance.

The entire household—Gawain, Lowell, Alaric, Aidan, Alistair, Hawk, Skylar, Sabrina, Sloan, James McGregor, Shawna, and David-—sat down to breakfast together. And as they did so, David's story was a casual one.

"I imagine I must have stumbled into the woods from the stables on the night of the fire. Perhaps I was caught by some falling wood, I don't know. In truth, I know very little of that night. But I was no longer David Douglas."

"Amnesia?" Lowell inquired, curious and doubtful. "You had no idea of who you were, or what you were about?"

"Aye, I suppose it was amnesia. I was in the stables when the fire began—Shawna and I had gone there for business, as surely you are all aware," he said, his tone very dry, "but I know nothing more. I found myself on a ship with no real identity, drifting around the world."

"Whatever happened? How do you get to come back here?" Aidan demanded. There was excitement in his tone. He appeared to think that whatever had befallen David was surely the greatest adventure of a lifetime.

David shrugged, buttering one of Anne-Marie's finest scones and adding her homemade jam. "It had to do with another hit on the head—and I knew it was time to come back."

It was amazing, Shawna thought. He was basically telling the truth.

"So you came back home—with your friends?" Gawain asked suspiciously, nodding politely to James and Sloan.

"My good friends," David replied simply.

"Friends from America," Alaric commented, "and all arriving when your brother just happened to be here."

"Alaric, life can be amazing."

Alaric nodded. "Imagine, Father," he said to Gawain, "we'd thought to see if Hawk might be interested in selling the Douglas holdings—seeing as how he spent most of his time in the States," he explained to David.

"The property is certainly not for sale," David said quietly.

Gawain cast his son Alaric an aggrieved glance, then turned his attention to David once again. "You look hale and hearty, lad. And it's good to see you alive."

"Thank you, MacGinnis."

"Naturally, it's a pity your father never knew," Lowell told him.

"Indeed, it is that," David said.

"Hawk, this rather changes your fortunes, doesn't it? You came here Laird Douglas. You go home without a title," Alaric said.

"I go home without a title, but with a brother returned from the dead. A fair trade, I think."

"It's quite amazing," Gawain said, staring at David, shaking his head. "You were dead—you've suddenly reappeared. Just as your 'corpse' winds up on the Druid Stone."

"Just after Sabrina was kidnapped," Alaric murmured.

Shawna tensed, hoping no one else had heard what seemed like a tone of insinuation coming from her cousin. But David was no longer dead—and he was returned as laird of his castle. And there would be no insinuations cast in his direction to which he would not cast out a challenge.

"Do you imply something, Alaric?"

Alaric threw up his hands. "I imply nothing. I'm simply and completely—stunned. And unnerved. Very strange events have been occurring in these parts lately."

"Like as not, it's the witches, and we should be doing something about the lot of them," Lowell said.

Shawna sighed. "Uncle Lowell, the Craig Rock witches are intelligent, gentle people who do nothing but practice freedom of religion. Edwina is the most kindly person—"

"That she is!" Gawain said angrily.

"Sabrina was found in the McCloud vault," Alaric said.

"We looked there because I was certain that anyone who was up to evil would try to blame what had happened on the witches if Sabrina was found."

"Perhaps," Aidan said slowly, looking around the table at all of them, "it's exactly the opposite. Perhaps Sabrina was taken by Edwina's people, and kept prisoner in the McCloud vault so we'd think that she had to be innocent!"

"What?" Hawk said.

Aidan shrugged. "I realize you've just arrived, after a very long absence. And you know that the people can easily be swayed. But the mines themselves seem to come alive at times with tappings—some of the men claim they hear singing. A lot of people believe that the witches are up to evil deeds."

"Ah, 'tis the wind in the rock!" Lowell said impatiently.

"Then Sabrina was taken," Alaric said.

"And found in the graveyard last night," Gawain reminded them all.

"And that strange Brother Damian has been about," Aidan commented. Smiling, he shivered. "He rather unnerved me." He hesitated. "Perhaps he has something to do with it."

"Brother, my arse! He's probably one with the witches!" Lowell commented.

"Uncle Lowell!" Shawna protested.

Lowell snorted his impatience.

"Then," Aidan continued, "there's also the nasty matter of a rotted corpse placed on the Druid Stone."

"Ah, surely that was some prank by the village lads," Alistair murmured. "The sacrifice on the stone, and the like of it."

"It was hardly a prank," Hawk said. He cast a barely perceptible glance his brother's way, and Shawna found herself irritated to see how easily they communicated. They were manipulating the conversation, throwing out information now to see what might fall back their way. "Hardly a prank. Unless the village lads find it humorous to dress up in dark cloaks and shoot at people."

"Shoot at people!" Gawain exploded. "Nothing of this was said to me last night."

"Nothing of anything has been said to me," Lowell added, shaking his head sorrowfully.

"Would you mind explaining just what did happen when Sabrina was found?" Gawain demanded.

Hawk shrugged. "Shawna thought that we had searched everywhere—except for the vaults in the cemetery. The McCloud vault seemed an obvious place to Shawna to start, as she has said. But when we went to search for Sabrina, the place suddenly seemed alive with black-cloaked and -cowled figures—firing at us."

"But no one was hit?" Aidan ascertained gravely. He stared at Shawna. "No one was hit, no one was hurt?"

"No," Shawna said.

"They were firing at my wife, Shawna, Sloan, and me. I hardly find that a prank."

"Creatures in cloaks and cowls!" Lowell muttered. He eyed his brother sternly. "Witches!"

"How convenient that Mr. McGregor and Mr. Trelawny and that Brother Damian were so close," Gawain said, ignoring his brother. He frowned then. "Laird Douglas—where were you?"

"Quite close behind them, actually," David said. He was making a lot of explanations, Shawna thought, but apparently, an explanation for Brother Damian was not forthcoming.

Alistair, of course, knew that David himself dressed up as Brother Damian.

Could it be true that he had kept secrets as completely as she?

"Well, we've sent for the constable again," Gawain said, sounding tired. Then he smiled suddenly. "David, Laird Douglas! The fine thing about your being alive is that the responsibility for our troubles now lies with you!"

"Aye, that it does," David agreed.

"We need to announce to the village that David is alive and returned, and will rule over the festivities for the Night of the Moon Maiden," Alaric said.

"I think that the villagers will know this morning that I have returned," David said.

"How is that?" Gawain asked.

"I paid a visit to Fergus Anderson last night."

"Well, Laird Douglas, that does not particularly compliment us as a family," Aidan said. "Why would you spend time with that ratty old drunkard—before letting us know that you were alive?"

David bit into a piece of bread before arching a brow and replying.

"Owing to a most curious dilemma—I found a lad within the castle bearing a most curious Douglas trait. And doing a wee bit of sleuthing I discovered that until recently, the old drunkard had been rearing that child. The child bears a striking resemblance to the MacGinnis family as well, but that Douglas trait is quite undeniable. The lad was, therefore, my son."

"Oh, God!"

Anne-Marie, who had just been coming in with another tray, nearly dropped it, starting to fall.

Sloan was quick enough to catch her before she could hit the floor. And strong enough to keep her from doing so.

Alistair rescued the tray.

"David, y'are Laird Douglas, and that's a fact, but I've worked long and hard here, and I would like to know what game y'are playing, man?" Gawain demanded angrily, standing and throwing his napkin down upon the table.

"No games," David said flatly, looking around the group, staring hard into each set of MacGinnis eyes. "You all knew that Shawna was going to have a child. And since none of us is pretending not to know Shawna's role in luring me from the castle the night of the fire, any imbecile would have known whose child she awaited."

Shawna felt her flesh burn. Her cheeks were afire.

"Well, of course, we knew," Aidan exploded. "But—"

"The wee bairn died!" Gawain grated out. "What cruel joke do you play upon us all?"

"The babe did not die," David said firmly.

"My brother does not play jokes," Hawk said warningly.

"The game, it seems, was played upon Shawna. But it is no matter now. I've taken the child."

"The Anderson child? Danny?" Lowell demanded, seemingly confused now by the turn of events.

"That would be the one," David said.

"Must we do this, here now—" Shawna gasped out.

"Aye, that we must!" David declared angrily.

"Have you gone daft?" Lowell demanded. "How could that lad be Shawna's—"

"At least I'll no longer be accused for the boy's begetting!" Aidan said.

"Nor I," Alaric mused.

"Amen," Alistair murmured.

"Y've determined that the lad is yours, when he's near on five years old, but now y'are back to your homeland, you sent the lad away?" Gawain demanded.

"For the time being."

Gawain stared at Shawna. "How did the boy come to be with the Andersons? Why did you tell us you had lost the child?"

Sweet Jesu, she could not believe it! Her own family was staring at her as if she might have done such a thing out of shame of bearing an illegitimate child.

"Because it was my belief the babe had died. I don't know what happened then, and I don't know how the boy came to be with the Andersons—from Glasgow here, alive and well. Fergus told David, however, that Mary Jane gave the lad over to the Andersons."

"Get her down here! Demand an explanation!" Gawain said.

"That can't be done," David told him.

"Why not?"

"Mary Jane has disappeared," David informed him.

"Disappeared?" Lowell said, outraged.

"The Saints preserve us, what in God's name is going on here?" Gawain bellowed.

"All mysteries here will be solved," David said firmly. "I will find out what is going on here. And anyone who has anything to tell me is certainly more than welcome to do so!" He stood and surveyed the faces around the table once again. "My son will come back to the castle—in time. For today it seems we have the business of the Moon Maiden at hand. And by tonight, by God, I will have explanations!"

* * *

Shawna discovered herself a prisoner in her bedroom once again for most of the day.

In the early afternoon, however—with James McGregor still dogging her heels—she went to the old turret room and dug through trunks with Sabrina and Skylar, costuming them as ladies from days gone by.

Skylar, sleek and beautiful with her long golden hair in a royal blue Napoleonic gown, swirled around. "This is lovely. Thank you so much."

"All of these things are quite beautiful," Sabrina said, sitting in a pile of silks and velvets from the same era. "I believe I will wear Empire fashion as well. What do most of the people wear?"

"Anything and everything," Shawna said. "Some of the lasses try to outdo one another dressing up as fairytale princesses. Some opt to dress as animals, some wear bizarre forest-type creations, even coming as fall foliage. It's usually great fun."

"Dressing up is fun," Skylar murmured, looking at Shawna, "except, of course, it means that you must be ever more careful. You'll not know whom to trust."

"I don't know whom to trust," Shawna said quietly, "when those about me are not wearing masks," She shook off the dread that seemed to be settling over her. "What is Hawk wearing?" she asked Skylar, trying to take her mind off the whirlwind of worry and fear and emotion that plagued it.

"He's undecided."