Chapter 29 #4
“Nay, Sunshine, you’re wrong about that,” he said seriously, “You have yourself and that is something you cannot put a price on.” He reached for her hand and laced his fingers with hers.
“If it will ease you any, I’ll write you out a list of what it costs to keep Cameron Hall running each month.
You’ll not feel nearly so wealthy after that. ”
She found, to her profound surprise, that her eyes were burning. “Please let’s stay in Scotland as much as we can.”
“We will, love,” he said. “And when we’ve a need to be elsewhere, we’ll take those beautiful Highland meadows with us in our hearts. But aye, we’ll be home as often as we can manage it.”
She wanted to ask him if he actually thought he would ever be able to get out from under Nathan and Penelope, if people would stop hunting them both, if they would actually live happily ever after, but she didn’t have the chance before his phone rang. He sighed.
“I won’t be long. ’Tis Emily, no doubt with something I neglected to do.”
She looked down at his left hand that was still wrapped around hers and trailed her fingers along the scar there.
It was a little surreal, knowing she’d sewn that up hundreds of years ago as Cameron had taken a bath in a very medieval tub, yet there she was in Patrick and Madelyn’s kitchen, listening to the same man talking on his cell phone to his assistant in London.
Life was very strange, indeed.
“Is that so?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, aye, I would be interested. Just let me know the time. And you let Oliver get you home tonight and sleep on your sofa.” He listened for quite a while longer, then shook his head.
“Emily, lass, for once in your bloody life do something you don’t want to simply because I’m asking it.
You can curse me all you like after the fact.
” He smiled. “Aye, I’m sure you will. Call me back when you have a time. Thanks, love.”
Sunny looked at him as he hung up. “News?”
“A meeting called tomorrow morning by our good lord Nathan,” he said, looking faintly surprised. “Perhaps he grows nervous. We’ve managed to turn his lads one by one except one particularly stubborn case and his chauffeur—and I’m not certain the driver couldn’t be bought with enough sterling.”
“So, you’ll fly back in the morning?”
“Very early. I’ll call you once I’m finished and we’ll see where we stand. I assume you’ll be sitting here in front of the fire, knitting. If you tire of that, you can sharpen a blade or two, just in case.”
She smiled briefly. “How very medieval of you, my laird.” “Very,” he agreed unapologetically.
“I could drive with you to the airport.”
He started to protest, then stopped. “I suppose I could leave Peter behind with you. I’ll have Derrick and Oliver with me, and Ewan can come along to be an extra pair of hands if I need them.
But if I agree, Sunshine, I want your solemn word that once you drop me off, you will lock the doors and drive straight home.
No following hunches, no trips to herb shops owned by any Fergussons, no running off to buy any fifty-quid dresses with all the money I put in your account this morning. ”
“You didn’t.”
“Your brother-in-law was eager to take a hefty fee for giving me the appropriate secret codes,” he said dryly, “and actively encouraged the deposit. The man is a mercenary.”
“He’s repaying you for years of vexation from your ancestors, ” she said wisely.
“Likely so.” He smiled, but his smile faded rather quickly. “I’m serious about the other, Sunny. I’ll leave Peter to shadow you, but I want you to come back here without delay. Please leave me free to worry about things other than your safety.”
She shivered. “I think I like medieval Scotland better.”
“Don’t wish that on either of us now,” he said with feeling. “I’m far too accustomed to driving instead of riding.”
“And you probably wouldn’t survive without your daily dose of saturated fat.”
“I daresay you have that aright,” he agreed. “Nay, my love, let’s stay in the future and rid it of things that might not belong.”
It took her quite a while before she could speak. “Do you really think it’s Giric?”
“I don’t think I have a choice, do I? As improbable as it might seem, I fear he’s involved.”
“What will you do?”
“Draw him out,” He smiled briefly. “But let us think on something else besides that tonight. Would Patrick let me sleep on his floor?”
She smiled. “He might even let you use the extra guest room. It’s usually fairly free of ghosts.”
He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it abruptly. “I’m not going to ask. I almost embarrassed myself this afternoon whilst we were indulging in a little swordplay. That bloody piper of his started up with his serenade and I think I might have made some sort of noise of surprise.”
“Pat said you screamed.”
He tried to scowl, but apparently couldn’t manage it. He laughed uneasily instead. “Aye, I suppose I did. I’ll be prepared for him the next time.”
“You should feel flattered. Robert MacLeod doesn’t play for very many people.”
“Again, ’tis my affection for the MacLeod witch that earns me such fine treatment,” he said with a smile. “I also brought my MacLeod plaid pajamas, just in case. That should earn me a decent night’s sleep, wouldn’t you think?”
“I should think so,” she agreed.
“But not quite yet,” he said, pulling her around the table and onto his lap. He put his arms around her and looked at her purposefully. “I think I should give that lovely MacLeod witch a small demonstration of my affection, aye?”
“Definitely,” she agreed. As she had thought on more than one occasion, Cameron’s mouth was a marvel. There was no sense in not giving it her full attention.
She didn’t want to think about what he was up against, or the fact that he might very well be walking into a viper’s nest the next morning. It could have been worse; it could have been medieval Scotland with Cameron standing against a dozen men with very sharp swords.
She hoped London wouldn’t be as deadly.