there were his “interests” in the States. Kept an apartment there, he did. Well, money made money, and that was a fact.
Hell, who had known when he would return this time. It was all legitimate that he hadn’t said a word to the new folk about there being a real Bruce. And those folk had, amusingly enough, done real work at the place. Bruce sure hadn’t kept up the place. In fact, there were times when it seemed that he hated the castle and the great forest surrounding it, even the village itself.
That, of course, had to do with Maggie….
“Well, old boy,” he said aloud softly, “at least you had her once. She loved you, she did. She was my friend, but she loved you.”
Maggie had been gone a very long time. There was no sense thinking about those days anymore.
Impatiently Jonathan stood, bringing along his tea as he walked to the window. There it was, the castle on the hill. Bruce’s castle. Bruce was the MacNiall. The bloody MacNiall. Laird MacNiall.
“To you, you bloody bastard! These are not the old days, my friend. I am not a subject, a serf, a servant. I’m the law here, the bloody law.”
He stared at the castle and the forest, the sun shining on the former, a shadow of green darkness enveloping the latter.
“The bloody law!”
A crooked grin split his lips.
“Y’may be the MacNiall, the bloody great MacNiall, but I am the law. I have that power. And when it’s necessary for the law to come down, well … friend or nae, I will be that power!”
4
“What are we going to do about tonight?” Gina asked Toni.
They were alone in the kitchen. Gina had been the first up. Ever the consummate businesswoman, she had apparently been worrying about the tour they had planned for Saturday night since waking up. In fact, she might not even have slept.
Toni was still feeling fairly haggard herself. When she woke, she had found the chair empty and the dividing doors shut. She’d tapped lightly at the bathroom door, but there had been no answer. She had entered, locked the other side, gotten ready and unlocked it. She hadn’t heard a sound and assumed that he was at last sleeping. The night seemed a blur to her now.
Even the absolute terror that had awakened her seemed to have faded. And yet … something lingered. A very deep unease.
“Toni, what on earth are we going to do?” Gina repeated.
“Maybe he’ll just let us have our group in,” she said.
Gina folded her hands in front of her on the kitchen table, looking at Toni. “We could have had our butts out on the street last night. You have to quit aggravating the guy.”
“Wait just a minute! I was actually in the right last night. How did we know—until the constable came—that he really was who he said he was.”
“You have to quit being so hostile to him,” Gina insisted.
“I talked to him again last night. And I wasn’t hostile,” Toni told Gina.
Gina instantly froze. “You … talked to him again?” She sounded wary and very worried.
“I told you, I wasn’t hostile!”
David, looking admirably suave in a silk robe, walked into the kitchen. “Did I hear that Toni was talking to our host again?” He, too, sounded very worried.
“Hey, you guys! This isn’t fair. When he came bursting in like Thor on a cloud of thunder, I assumed we were perfectly in the right,” Toni said, exasperated. “And we were. We did everything right.”
“Well,” David said, opening the refrigerator, “for being right, we’re looking awfully wrong. We have tourists coming in tonight. What are we going to do?”
“What else? I’m going to get on the phone and cancel,” Gina said. She laid her head on the table and groaned. “Where am I going to get the money for refunds?”
David smoothed back his freshly washed dark hair and shut the refrigerator. “Wow, we sure have made this home. Do you think it’s still all right if I delve into the refrigerator?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Toni said. “It is our food in there. There wasn’t a thing in the place when we arrived, except for a few tea bags!”
“Hey, I know. I’m going to whip up a really good breakfast. Think Laird MacNiall will like that? You know, Toni, you’re going to have to be careful when making things up from now on. This guy turned out to be real, and you have his ancestor being a murderer! From now on, invent characters that are noble and good.”
“Hey, Othello was noble, and he killed his wife,” Toni said.
“That breakfast doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” Gina said.
“We should make Toni cook,” David said.
“No!” Kevin protested, standing in the kitchen doorway. “We’ll definitely get kicked out if we do that.” He grinned, taking the sting out of his words, and surveyed the kitchen. “Imagine this place if we had a few more funds! I’d love to see baker’s rows of copper pots and pans and utensils.”
“It’s not our place anymore,” Gina reminded him.
“Soft yellow paint would bring in the sunlight,” David mused.
“How the hell can you be so cheerful this morning?” Gina asked him.
“I’m eternally and annoyingly cheerful, you all know that,” Kevin said. “Things will work out. Hey, whoever made the coffee did a full pot, right?” he asked, moving to the counter.
David closed the refrigerator door and leaned against it, looking at Kevin. “Think that Scottish lairds like eggs Benedict?”
“Shouldn’t we do something with salmon?” Kevin countered.
“Good point,” David agreed.
“I’m glad you two can worry about breakfast,” Gina murmured. “What are we going to do?”
“We’re going to sit down like the good friends we are and figure a way out of this,” David said flatly. “Where’s your husband, Gina?”
She shook her head. “He wasn’t in the room. He’s out somewhere … walking, playing in the stables, Lord knows.”
Thayer came walking into the kitchen, bearing the newspaper from Stirling, the nearest major city. He set it on the table, offering them all a grimace. “Good morning, we can at least hope.”
“Maybe, but only if we start over with the coffee. Gina, did you make this?” Kevin asked, tasting the brew. “What did you use, local mud?”
“It’s strong, that’s all,” Gina protested.
“So, what
