The Presence Part 11

Toni found herself staring at the trees. Deeper in, beyond the immediate area of the brook, the forest was dark. The green canopy made it appear like a dark den that beckoned and yet, somehow, warned of evil. Staring into the verdant growth, suddenly she felt herself shiver as an uneasy feeling a.s.sailed her.

It was as if the trees were breathing. As if the entire shroud of dark green were a living being, an ent.i.ty unto itself, something that crouched and waited, watching....

"Toni, what are you waiting for? It's great, sumptuous, wonderful, cool..." Gina said, her enthusiasm high.

Shaking off her unease, Toni rolled up her jeans and started to travel carefully out into the middle of the rushing water.

"Ouch! Hey, we didn't think about the rocks under bare feet thing when we agreed to do this!" David shouted, following her example.

"Ouch, indeed!" Kevin cried. He hurried past David, but then hit a sharp rock, lost his balance and crashed into Toni.

Outraged and off balance, Toni went down. "Kevin!"

They were both on their b.u.t.ts, soaked in a foot of water. Kevin started to apologize, but then he stared at her and burst out laughing.

"Oh, you think this is funny! Get him, guys."

At Toni's prompting, the rest of them piled on. And in a matter of minutes, the six of them were drenched, bedraggled and laughing hysterically.

At last, gasping for breath, mud from head to toe, Toni struggled to get up--and realized suddenly that they'd all fallen silent.

She tried to smooth back her muddy hair, and blink away the water and muck that was blinding her. Then she saw. Once again, the great laird of the manor had returned.

Bruce MacNiall was there, bareback on his great black, Shaunessy. He was watching them as if they were, indeed, part of a theater of the absurd. And there was the oddest expression on his face. Tension, anger? Toni wasn't sure. He looked like a thundercloud himself.

She thought that, for a moment, he stared beyond them, deeper into the forest, from.. .from the place where the eyes seemed to watch, from where the sense of breathing and evil seemed to emanate.

His eyes fell upon the group again.

With.. .relief? Toni wondered.

And when he spoke, his tone was pleasant enough.

"Having a good time?" he called pleasantly.

"Yeah!" Ryan said. He truly looked like an overgrown child. "It's great--wonderful. The water feels terrific."

"A little cold," Gina said. She sounded nervous, as if they had been caught doing something they shouldn't have.

"We're having a wonderful time," Toni said, staring at Bruce. Surely, once in a while, he let down that stern guard and simply had fun. "Really, you just need to have a bit of a sense of humor to be down here."

"Great," MacNiall called to them from the height of his stallion's back. He smiled. "Glad you're having a good time. You might want to watch out for the leeches, though."

They were dead still, like a tableau.

Then Kevin shrieked "Leeches?"

Toni didn't think that she had ever moved so quickly. The same might be said for the others as they scrambled over one another to get out of the stream as quickly as possible. She knocked into Kevin. Ryan tripped over his own wife. Toni reached down to Gina, and in his haste to do the same, Ryan knocked Toni back down. Thayer caught hold of Toni, David helped both Ryan and Gina, and Kevin was on his own. Finally, after a scene straight from the Three Stooges, the six of them made it out of the water and to the sh.o.r.e. And there they began to hop up and down, checking what parts of one another they could actually see.

Gina, screaming, banged at her thigh. "There's one on me! Get it! Get it!"

They ran around behind her, staring her up and down.

"There's nothing there," Toni said.

"There is!"

"No, honestly, there's nothing there. Look, let's just get back to the castle--and the showers!" Toni said. She, too, was feeling things all over.

Twenty minutes later, after a fierce pounding of hot water, Toni was sure that she had none of the little b.u.g.g.e.rs on her. Wrapped in her terry robe, she emerged into her room, ready to find clean, warm clothing.

What she found instead was Bruce MacNiall, in her room, getting the fire going. Hunched down by the hearth, he coaxed kindling and logs to flame. In the light, his hair was sleek, blue-black in its darkness. As he moved, she was aware of the breadth of his shoulders and, oddly, a sense of the power within them. It was almost as if he, too, like his longhead ancestor, had hefted the great weight of a sword or battle-ax to gain such a strength.

She swallowed, feeling a strange quickening. It was one thing to acknowledge that he was an imposing, exceptionally attractive man. It was quite another to feel.. .such a strange affinity with him. She needed him out of the room--now.

"Hmm," she murmured, crossing her arms over her chest, leaning against the wall and forcing a pleasant tone to her voice. "Interesting. I could have sworn that I had to vacate the room on the other side of the bath since that one was yours." At the end, her tone had risen. She couldn't help it; she was unnerved by his appearance. It might be his castle, and he might have fallen asleep in her chair, but still...he had no right to be in here.

"Sorry," he said coolly, rising. "I certainly didn't mean to be intrusive. I had hoped to get this going and be out before you were finished." There seemed to be a slight smile on his face. She immediately felt even more defensive. "I thought you might want some warmth. It's chilly out there, and the rain has begun. Interesting day for a lark in the water."

"Sorry. The concept of wading through the rushing water was a bit too much for us to resist."

"Wading through the rushing water? That was more like a ma.s.s, a Holy Roller baptism!"

"Yes, yes, I know. We got a bit carried away," she said. "We're silly Americans, being fools playing in the brook or the brae or whatever the h.e.l.l it is. You'll have to forgive us. We were just having fun. I have heard that the Scots are just a bit dour, so you probably wouldn't understand."

"Seeing as how I lack a sense of humor, you mean," he murmured.

"Well, we're very close friends. And maybe such a thing wouldn't exactly be your cup of tea, but I would hope that you could appreciate a little silliness. Call it an American sense of humor."

Dark lashes swept over his eyes and his grin deepened as he gave the fire a last prod. Then he rose and headed for the door to the hall. But as he pa.s.sed her, he paused.

"Yes, of course, an American sense of humor. Surely I can appreciate that. And I hope that you can appreciate a Scottish sense of humor."

"What do you mean by that?" she demanded, very aware of the size and scope of the man, and the smile that lent a certain charm to his face.

"Well, there are no leeches in that brook," he said lightly, and exited the room before she could reply.

*6*

Toni stood next to Gina on the upper landing while David played his role as the kitchen maid below. They grinned at one another as they heard the laughter.

"This was such a good idea," Gina murmured.

"Right. If only we really had a lease option on the castle," Toni replied.

"Under the circ.u.mstances, Bruce has been really above and beyond," Gina said.

"Oh?"

"This afternoon I showed him our papers again. He inspected them closely, then said that they certainly looked as if they were in order. He was very sympathetic. He even called his insurance company. Though he's willing to help us, he didn't particularly want to get sued."

"I thought we had insurance," Toni said.

"We did. It covered us and damage, but apparently I didn't read the fine print well enough. We also need a special clause to cover anyone who might get hurt. And we really should have more signs and warnings out. Anyway, he's taking care of it."

"All that, for just tonight?" Toni murmured.

"I'm getting the feeling that he might let us go on a while," Gina said. "Long enough to make some money, anyway."

"I guess we'll see," Toni murmured.

"David is about to introduce you," Gina murmured. "He was a bit strange about this afternoon, though, don't you think. I mean, about our foray into the brook."

"There are no leeches," Toni murmured back.

"Oh, he told us that," Gina said. "But I don't think it was actually the idea of us in the brook that disturbed him so much. It was the fact that we were in the forest. At lunch he was adamant about us staying out of the forest."

Toni felt a little shiver snake through her. She could remember how the forest had made her feel. As if it were alive. As if there were eyes. Watching.

"You're up!" Gina said.

Toni walked out to the landing in the white gown and began to talk about the great Bruce MacNiall, pa.s.sionate in his defense of king and country. "There were those who called him a hero, and those who called him a monster. Be that as it may, he never wavered in his loyalty, or in his pa.s.sion. In the end, the great Bruce, like Shakespeare's Oth.e.l.lo, would find his undoing in his pa.s.sion and in his heart. For years, he bested Cromwell's forces. For years, as he rode the countryside and fought, he loved his wife, Annalise. Yet, while he strayed far from home, rumors reached him of her infidelity. He returned, her betrayal like a blade that dug into his heart greater than the wounds inflicted by any real sword."

That night, there was no mighty bolt of lightning, no ma.s.sive crack of thunder. Yet, Bruce MacNiall arrived on the great black in a shinning burst of speed and noise and perfection. He was not dressed as he had been the night before, but rather in period breeches, with a leather chest guard, his family colors apparent in the great length of tartan swept around his shoulders and pinned there with a silver brooch. A typical Scots knife was in a sheaf at his calf. His sword belt was buckled to his hip and swung with pure theatricality as he dismounted from Shaunessy.

The sight of him caused that strange quickening sensation in her again. He indeed appeared fierce.

Tonight--maybe because he'd had that talk about insurance with Gina--Ryan was there to take the great black the minute the man dismounted.

There was a roar of pleasure and then applause from the crowd as he came to the floor and looked up the stairs.

Toni still had no idea what he actually did for a living, but he could have been an actor. He ignored the crowd so completely, all those people might not have existed at all. When his eyes fell upon her, her own breath caught. And when he started up the stairs, more imposing than ever in his historical attire, she found herself taking a step back.

"Annalise!"

There was a hiss at the end of the word that sent shivers down her spine.

"Even upon the field of battle, word of your treachery comes to me!" he bellowed.

The crowd was dead silent as he took the steps slowly and fluidly.

She tried to remind herself that she was acting. "Nae, you're wrong, you're deceived!" she cried out. And as he neared her, she continued, the argument in her voice certainly sounding very real. "Would you doubt me so easily, m'laird? All these long days, weeks, months! I do naught but wait.. .for your return."

"Lies fall prettily from your lips!" he informed her, moving closer.

"Never! I do not lie! I swear it!"

"Annalise...!"

Again, the hiss at the end of the name. And then, he was there.

"Wife! Beloved wife!" he said, reaching out for her, crushing her into his arms. His fingers trailed into the length of her hair. "Wife!" he cried out again.

His face was buried against her throat. And when he whispered, "How am I doing?" he caught her completely off guard. She realized her own terrible tension, and the way that the bulwark of his chest felt against her own. There was something so incredibly electric and vital about him. She had become a victim of her own fantasy, caught up in the strength of his hold, the rich scent of his aftershave and the whisper of his breath against her neck.

"Uh.. .great!" she managed to whisper back.

"Beloved, betrayer!" he exclaimed then in a sudden fury, shoving her from him.

"Nae!" she shrieked, feeling a real unease for a moment.

Then his hands were around her throat, his fingers so long that he could wind them around her neck without putting the least pressure on her.

"Sweet Jesu, how could you betray me so?" His cry was full of pa.s.sion and pathos.

Everyone below was dead silent, feeling the laird's pain and yet horrified at what he was about to do.

He shook her.

Toni grasped his hands, pleading, gasping. "Nae, nae, I have done naught but love you, naught but... love you."

He supported her as she slowly sank to her knees before him.

In another piece of perfect theater, he held her still. His face came closer to hers.

"Annalise..."

His lips touched hers, just briefly.

"Before G.o.d! I cannot bear it!"

Again he pretended to shake her as his fingers tightened around her neck. Toni was stunned by the entire show herself. She managed to die in a pile of white silk at his feet. And then there was silence from below again. Real silence.

Bruce MacNiall knew how to work a crowd. He rose to his full height, gripped the banister and looked down at the silent people gaping up at him.

"Can't really throw her down the stairway, folks, she might get hurt!"

There was a burst of laughter and then the thunder of applause. The tourists were thrilled.

David, Kevin and Thayer, down among them, were still gaping. Then David came to his senses.

"Tea and scones, ladies and gentlemen. If you'll follow me to the laird's ancient kitchen, we'll have a bit of a repast!"

Still on the floor, Toni knew she should be delighted that they were doing so very well--even if their host had stolen the show.

As the crowd filed out, she heard them exclaiming about what a great experience it had been, how real, how it was almost as if they could touch the past.