The Presence Page 9

  She shook her head. “David, the thing is, I really thought that I made up my story about Bruce Mac Niall’s ancestor.”

  He lifted a hand, shaking his head at her. “All right, so you made up something real. Dr. David will work on it. Hmm, let’s see. Six months ago, we were here doing an extensive tour. In Edinburgh, we saw that really beautiful marble tomb built in honor of Montrose—monster to some, brilliant hero to others. We knew that the castle we were renting had been a MacNiall holding. And Bruce is a pretty common name. I don’t think there’s anything unusual about all this falling into place.”

  “Except that I learned a little more about the man—and his wife—from the current Bruce MacNiall,” Toni said.

  “He strangled his wife?”

  “No—at least, it’s not known that he did. She disappeared from history—that’s how Bruce described it.”

  “Hmm,” David said as he chewed on hay. “Sadly, my dear, many husbands have done in their wives. And many women have disappeared. Things don’t really change, no matter where you go. We’ve got our problems in the States, big time. There was even an article in the paper about women disappearing around here, too.”

  “Well, the good thing is, if Lady MacNiall disappeared, she did so centuries ago,” Toni said, but she felt uneasy. She had seen the headlines herself.

  “There you go.”

  “The bad thing is, her name was Annalise.”

  David stared at her, arching a brow high. “No kidding?”

  “According to Bruce.”

  “You know, Toni, maybe you did hear this story somewhere along the way in life and just don’t remember,” he suggested.

  She was silent.

  “Hey, it’s all right. Really. And apparently this guy doesn’t have a Lady MacNiall, so there will be no skeletons in the closet, right. He really is something, though, huh?”

  “Yes.” Toni was surprised to feel herself coloring a little.

  David smiled, finding another blade of hay to gnaw. “There were lots of sparks flying when you two were arguing last night.”

  “I’m known to send off sparks now and then.”

  “Usually only when you’re defending friends or the downtrodden!” David said with a laugh. Then he looked at her seriously. “You aren’t still raving mad about this guy, and we all think that he’s right—de spite the fact that we don’t want to. So…something else is bothering you.”

  It was a simple statement from a man who knew her far too well.

  She glanced his way, hesitated, then said, “I had the most awful nightmare last night. And I screamed bloody murder. That’s why he and I wound up talking.”

  “Okay…” David said slowly. “Talking to him upset you?”

  “No. The nightmare upset me.”

  “You remember it?”

  “Yes, it was terrifying. But the strange thing is that Bruce—or his ancestor—was the nightmare.”

  David arched a brow so she continued. “He was just…there. It was as if I had opened my eyes and seen him, huge, in full battle regalia, standing at the foot of my bed. And he was dressed like a Cavalier. He looked like our Bruce, except that his hair was longer and kilted, he had something like half-armor on, there was a sheath of some kind at his ankle with a knife and he was carrying a sword.”

  “And standing at the foot of your bed?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right, let’s analyze this. Why was he so terrifying?”

  She stared at him. “He was at the foot of my bed!”

  “And that’s all?”

  “Well, what if you woke up and found a ghost at the foot of your bed?”

  “I’d wake Kevin, and knowing Kevin, he’d be all ex cited and try to talk to the fellow.”

  She knew that he was trying to tease her, to make her feel better. But she knew more.

  “He was carrying a sword,” she said.

  “Well, if you dreamed about a Cavalier who fought many battles, naturally he’d be carrying a sword.”

  “It was dripping blood.”

  “Toni, you were a theater major who has written a number of plays. You’re imaginative. I’d expect no less from you than a dream in living color with complete attention to detail.”

  “You don’t understand, because I’ve never even talked to you about this, but…” She hesitated, staring at him. She saw nothing in his eyes but the deep concern of a very good friend. “Years ago, as a child, I… dreamed things.”

  “All children dream.”

  She looked across the stables. “No. I dreamed things that had happened, really bad things. Murders. The police would come to my house and grill me about what I had seen. I could describe people, sometimes. And could generally tell them exactly what had happened.”

  “Did they ever catch anyone because of these dreams of yours?” David asked, his tone grave.

  “I believe so.”

  “Then, you were doing something good, Toni.”

  “Maybe,” she murmured. “But I couldn’t live with it. And my poor parents! How they fought over it. Anyway, there came a point where I really couldn’t stand it anymore. I blacked out, or something, and wound up in the hospital.”

  “And your folks didn’t take you to a shrink?” he asked incredulously.

  Toni shook her head. “There was a man, a friend of my mom’s. He was wonderful. He seemed to under stand exactly what I was going through. When the cops got too persistent, he came in, gentle and quiet, and calmed me down. When I woke up in the hospital, he was there. He seemed to know that my little mind was on overload. I told him that I didn’t dream, that dreaming was bad.”

  “And then?”

  “We moved. And I made it stop.”

  “You made it stop?” David said.

  She nodded. “You don’t know what it was like. My parents were torn apart. The dreams were horrendous. David, I could see murders—as they happened, after they happened, just before they happened. Then there were those people who found out about it who weren’t with the police. They behaved as if I had leprosy. You can’t imagine.”

  “Yes, actually, that part I can,” David murmured. He picked up her hand. “Toni, I don’t think you should worry, not just yet, anyway. Seriously, I’m not insisting that everything in the world has a logical explanation, but we’re in Scotland, and we did learn about a very similar history to the one you invented. As for seeing an ancient Scotsman in your bedroom in full fighting regalia, well, let me tell you, when the modern-day Bruce MacNiall came riding in during your presentation, that was pretty darned memorable.”

  “You think I’m being silly?” she asked him.

  “I think that you shouldn’t worry too much,” he told her. He squeezed her hand. “Bruce MacNiall is still what you might want to call a variable. But don’t for get that you are surrounded by friends here, friends who love you very much. It’s going to be fine. Trust me. Besides, what can you do?”

  “Nothing, I guess.”

  “What happened to the man?”

  “What man?”

  “The man who came to talk to you. The one who apparently controlled things and made you feel better.”

  “Oh, Adam.”

  “Adam…?”

  “Harrison,” she said.

  “Is he still alive?”

  “Oh, yes. Well, at least he was two years ago. He came to see my show when I was doing Varina Davis in D.C.” She smiled. “He didn’t look as if he’d aged a day. He was still and straight and dignified, soft-spoken…very nice.”

  “Seeing him didn’t awaken anything?” David asked.

  “No, seeing him was lovely. He asked me how I’d been, applauded the play and was just as nice as could be. He even gave me his card again and reminded me to call him if I ever needed him.”

  “Well, there you go!” David said, as if having someone’s card solved everything. “If anything too weird happens, you call the fellow. Hey, he’s not an attorney, or maybe an American ambassador, is he?”
br />   She shook her head.

  “What does he do? Or is he retired?”

  “He owns a company. Harrison Investigations.”

  “Investigations. There you go. He can investigate the scam artist who got us into this!”

  “I don’t think it’s those kinds of investigations.”

  “Ah! You mean he’s one of those guys who goes into haunted houses with weird cameras and tape recorders and stuff like that?”

  She nodded, finding that she had to grin. “Um. I think that’s exactly what he does.”

  “You don’t think that a ghost screwed us all via the Internet, do you?”

  Toni had to laugh. “No!”

  “Well, then, let’s wait and see. Hey, want to take a walk? It’s gorgeous around here. Gina was saying that she wanted to go barefoot in one of the trickling streams just below our little hillock here.”

  “I think it’s going to rain.”

  “Then getting our feet wet won’t matter,” David said.

  She rose, turning back to draw him up. “Sure. Let’s go.”

  She started to drag him along, but he pulled her back, giving her a hug again. “Hey, I’m here if you need me. Always.”

  She stepped back, eyes twinkling, and sighed. “You love me, you’re here when I need you and you’re absolutely gorgeous. Why on earth couldn’t you have been heterosexual?”

  “God knows,” he said. “But I do love you.”

  “I love you, too. “

  “Anyway, let’s get the other guys and go for that walk.”

  “You’re on.”

  When they returned to the castle, they found the others in the hall, ready to head out.

  Thayer was standing by the main doors, where a drawbridge—long gone now, as long gone as the moat—had once led to the portico entry. He appeared reflective.

  “What’s the matter?” Toni asked him.

  He shook his head. “I was just thinking—we really were idiots.”

  “Why do you say that?” Toni asked, suddenly feeling guilty again.

  “We didn’t question anything. After we signed the agreements, we just accepted the fact that we would get here and get in. And we did, of course, because the door was open. The keys were hanging there, right inside, as soon as we came in! The door locks with a slide bolt, so we’ve been sliding it at night. Apparently, Laird MacNiall doesn’t lock the place up when he’s around. What do you think that means?”

  “That the castle is a small one, which wasn’t on any tour maps or advertised about at all until we got here. And that, in a village such as Tillingham, there’s no need to lock your doors,” Toni suggested.

  Thayer shrugged. “I guess. I’m still feeling like an idiot.”

  “Ditto,” Toni assured him.

  “We ready?” Ryan asked, coming to the door.

  “Aye,” Thayer assured him. “So where are we going?”

  “Just down the hill and into the woods a bit. Gina wants to romp in a brook.” Ryan looked up. “I think it’s going to rain.”

  “Probably,” Thayer agreed cheerfully.

  Kevin, coming to join them, said, “We’ll probably catch the fricking flu. Do we really have to do this today?”

  “If we’re out on our arses come Monday, we might not get the opportunity again,” Thayer reminded him.

  “True,” Kevin agreed. “All right, let’s go frolic in a bubbling little brook.”

  Gina came through the door. “It will be fun. Trust me.”

  So they headed out. It was cool but not cold, which made the walk very pleasant. And the overcast sky was fascinating, painting the landscape around them in beautiful dark shades of green and mauve.

  On distant hills, they could see an abundance of sheep. Climbing atop crags were also scattered groupings of the long-haired cattle that Toni had seen more frequently in the far north of the country. Apparently, they were popular in this area, too. Between the cattle, sheep, wildflowers, sloping hills, crags and cairns, the scenery around them was breathtaking.

  “This place is really gorgeous,” Toni commented.

  “It is—and we would have been a real boon for its economy,” Ryan said.

  “Oh, yeah? There could have been a buildup of fast-food restaurants and Motel 8s all along the way,” Thayer said.

  “Right! Like Scotland doesn’t depend on tourism!” Ryan argued.

  “The world goes round on tourism, I guess,” Thayer acknowledged.

  “We’ve got a long walk back once it pours!” Kevin shouted down toward Gina, who was ahead of him along the path. She shot him the bird, and he laughed.

  At the base of the hill, the canopy of trees began. The color was lighter, there, at the base, and oddly inviting. They followed Gina as she dashed into the woods. A minute later, she shouted out with delight, “There, look, how charming!”

  A little curve in a brook jutted out into a dapple of light that made it through the branches overhead. Though the water was a bit dark under the threatening skies, the sound of it rushing over pebbles and stones was light and airy, and the shelter of the neighboring trees made it look like a little piece of heaven. The whole scene was charming.

  Gina started hopping along in her haste to remove her socks and shoes and keep moving at the same time.

  Toni found herself staring at the trees. Deeper in, be yond 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 assailed her.

  It was as if the trees were breathing. As if the entire shroud of dark green were a living being, an entity 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 butts, 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 si
mply 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 shore. 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 buggers 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 long-dead 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.