Chapter 35
“You went where?”
Robert was furious. He could not believe what he heard. The dungeon was no place for anyone, let alone a woman, and certainly not a place for one to go alone. She had no idea what he had been through, or how he’d felt when he realized she was gone. For the past four hours, he had every available person, from Fiona to his grandmother, searching for her. No one had seen her. No one had a clue as to where she had gone. She had vanished. Without a trace, or a message. Without so much as a footprint.
He had ridden the countryside with Hugh and Iain, until it had grown too dark to see anything. As a last resort, he had come here, to wait in her room, wanting…no, needing to feel close to her. And now she came tiptoeing in here, prissy as you may be, acting as if he was the one in the wrong.
“I said I was in the dungeon with the ghost…you do remember him, don’t you?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen him, remember?”
“Well, I don’t know why I was so privileged. I certainly never asked to see him. I don’t know why you are being so difficult. Surely, you do not think I am having some torrid romance with a three-hundred-year-old ghost! And if I was, it wouldn’t be in that horrid, creepy dungeon, I can tell you that.”
“You have no idea what everyone here has been through. We searched for hours.”
“You have no idea what I have been through.”
“What if something had happened to you? Do you have any idea how long it might have been before we found you?”
“I thought about that.”
“Apparently not long enough.”
She stamped her foot. “I don’t know why you are so angry with me. I didn’t exactly go traipsing off to the dungeon because it was a favorite place of mine, you know. If I were you, I’d be careful. If you don’t start being a bit nicer, your descendants will refer to you as Douglas the Rude.”
“My descendants may never arrive if I stay this angry. Right now, the last thing on my mind is procreation.”
“Well, we agree on something at last, because I wouldn’t have your baby if you offered me the throne of England, Scotland and Wales!”
“You left out Ireland.”
“Throw that one in, too,” she said, kicking a small needlepoint footstool out of the way. “I am cold and tired and hungry and my head hurts. I feel like I have a headache over my entire body. I have been frightened out of my wits and scared to death, I’ve stumbled over rats and into spiderwebs bigger than an angler’s net. I sat in the dark for what seemed an eternity after my lamp went out, hearing voices that recited creepy poetry until I was ready to sign myself into Bedlam. There is nothing you can do to me that I have not been through something far worse. I do not want to listen to any more of your hostility. This is my bedchamber and I will thank you to take yourself and your raving and leave.”
“Why did you go to the dungeon?”
“Because the ghost let me know it was expected of me. He would not return if I did not go.”
“And you went traipsing blindly off to follow him, without a word to anyone?”
“If I took half of Scotland with me, he would have never put in an appearance.”
“You should have told me. I was worried beyond belief.”
She went to him and put her arms around his neck and said, “I am sorry I worried you.”
He kissed the top of her head. “You should be, but I was wrong to get angry at you. Perhaps they cancel each other out.”
Too happy to say anything, she felt him put his mouth against her cheek, kissing her there before moving to take her mouth. She whimpered and pressed closer to him, feeling the unsteadiness of her feet and clinging tightly to him. He held her like that for some time, neither of them speaking.
At last she said, “You called me foolish. Is that what you think?”
“I did at the time.”
“Your grandfather didn’t think I was foolish.”
“My grandfather? If you mean the ghost, he is not my grandfather.”
“He certainly is…many times removed.”
“It can’t be removed enough to suit me.” He released her and began to pace the room, back and forth, back and forth. “I don’t understand what I am supposed to do, here. There are enough trials and tribulations to be surmounted when you are dealing with living mortals. Isn’t that enough? Must I also deal with ancient relics who have nothing better to do than to clatter around in the dark and play hide-and-seek?”
“Shh! Don’t talk so loud. He might hear you.”
“I hope he does hear me!” Robert said in the loudest voice he could muster.
He stopped talking suddenly, for Meleri looked as if she might topple over. She was tired. He was tired. They were both upset and saying things they would regret tomorrow.
“Go to bed,” he said. “We can discuss this tomorrow.”
Meleri watched him go. Then she went to the door and looked down the hall. Robert was almost to his room. “I have something to show you.”
He stopped and turned. He did not come back, but he did ask, “Is this another one of your antics?”
He would try the endurance of a stone. “The earl gave me something, but if you don’t want to see it, fine!” She was about to duck back in her room and slam the door when he sighed and came toward her, walking as if he half expected her to throw a bucket of water in his face.
When he stepped into the room, she picked up the lamp and thrust it toward him. “Look at this, if you don’t believe me.”
He took the lamp and studied it for a moment. “How did you get this?”
“My lamp went out and I had to sit in that dungeon in the dark for an eternity. I wondered if he was going to leave me down there, and about the time I decided he was, he spoke to me. My lamp was out of oil. He said he could not fill it with oil, but he could give me something that belonged to him. The lamp came on again and when I looked, this stone was glowing so bright, it was like looking into the sun.”
She saw he was staring at the stone, and she wondered if he had even heard a single word she said.
“The Templar’s Diamond,” he whispered.
She stared down at the stone. “The what diamond?”
“Templar. It has to be the Templar’s Diamond. It is said that Sir James Douglas the Good acquired the stone when he was fighting in Spain, when he was trying to get to Jerusalem to bury the heart of Robert the Bruce. Before he died, he put the diamond in the box with Bruce’s heart to be brought back to Scotland. It was given to his heirs. It disappeared with the rest of the Douglas jewels.”
“Why is it called the Templar’s Diamond?”
“Because it was first found by the Knights Templar during the Crusades.”
“You are certain it is the Templar’s Diamond?”
“Not positive, but I know who will know for certain.”
“Who? Lady Margaret?”
“Aye. She saw a drawing of it when she was a young bride.”
“What happened to the drawing?”
“She doesn’t know. It was in the possession of my grandfather—my real grandfather. After he died, they could not find it. She never saw it again.”
“Then we should take it to her.”
“I’ll take it to her. I want you to get in bed and rest before you fall over.”
“But I…”
“You are weaving on your feet. Get into bed. I’ll come back after I speak with Gram.”
She was too weary to say anything more. He was right. She was tired and she was weaving—enough that he took her arm and guided her back to her bed. She sat down on the edge and looked up at him.
He kissed her lightly. “Go to sleep.”
“I will,” she said, staring down at her slippers.
“I’ll be back later,” he said, and left.
He had no more than shut the door behind him when the earl appeared.
He did not come with a draft of wind this time, but with the green mist that swirled until it took form. “If you have come to fuss at me, you can leave right now,” said Meleri. “I limit myself to one tongue-lashing a day.”
“No tongue-lashing, no more tests. This is a friendly visit, lass.”
“Why?” She pulled off one slipper and dropped it to the floor.
“I wanted to see if ye were verra angry wi’ me.”
“I am not angry at anyone. Faith, I am too tired to even say the word.”
“It didna sound that way to me.”
“You heard?”
“Aye, lass, they heard ye in Brussels.”
She dropped the other slipper. “He made me angry.”
“That is as it should be. It is good for a man and his wife to have a brawl now and then.”
“I cannot fathom what could be good about it.”
His eyes twinkled. “Ye will understand better after ye have made up.”
“I have made up with him…sort of.”
“‘Sort of’ isn’t good enough.”
“I was nice first. Now it’s his turn.”
“Ye are stubborn.”
“Only around tyrants. It is the only way to survive around pig-headed men.”
“Ye will change yer mind after ye make up, and then ye will be glad ye had the argument.”
“Humph! I doubt that.”
“There canna be a reconciliation where there is no war. After a battle, where words have been fired and battle lines drawn, it is good between a man and a woman to kiss and make up.”
“Bah!”
“Double bah!”
She could not help smiling. “I don’t know why I like you,” she said.
“For the same reason I like ye, I ken.”
She sat there looking at him, unable to believe she was forming a friendship with a ghost. But she was. He was so likable, a real charmer, she thought, refusing to admit that it might run in the family. Her tiredness seemed to vanish and she rubbed her feet over the carpet by her bed. “Why did you want me to come to the dungeon?”
“I told ye. To prove ye were verra brave.”
“You knew I would be frightened out of my wits. A true coward, I am.”
“But ye went, in spite of yer fear. That isna cowardly. What ye did takes a lassie wi’ courage.”
“I don’t feel very courageous.”
“If it would make ye feel better, ye are the one wi’ the bravest heart, because ye, of all the others, were the only one to go into the dungeon alone.”
“There were others?”
“Aye.”
“How many were there?”
“Three or four.”
“And I am the only one who passed muster?”
“Aye, lass, ’tis certain that ye did.”
“Well, fancy that,” she said, then smiled. “You did make a good choice,” she said.
“Aye. The best for last.”
“I suppose you will be revealing the rest of it. When will it happen?”
“At the time of my choosing.”
“Will it be very long?”
“I would like to say it would. Of all the times I have returned, I have enjoyed this time the most. ’Tis sorry I will be to see it end.”
“Where will you go? What will happen to you…when it is all over?”
“What happens to anyone who dies?”
She felt overcome with sadness. “Perhaps we could find a way to make this go on a bit longer.”
“Would that I could, but I cannot.”
“I shall miss you terribly, I fear, for I have become quite accustomed to having you in my life.”
A log popped and she glanced in the direction of the fire. She felt very close to crying. “Once you have gone back, will you ever be able to return again…even for just a little while? Just long enough to pay me a short visit?”
He did not answer, and when she looked back at the place where he had been, he was no longer there.
Meleri let out a long sigh and looked down at her hands in her lap. That is when she saw the ruby necklace lying on her bed, the deep color of pigeon blood, so vibrant in the glow from the firelight. She had seen it before, on one of Robert’s ancestors the day he showed her their portraits. She picked it up, unable to believe its weight or its existence. This necklace alone was worth a fortune. Just how many bloody jewels were there in the ancient Douglas coffers?
Still in her gown and clutching the ruby necklace in her hand, she pulled the covers up under her neck and fell asleep.
When she awoke the next morning, she put the necklace in a safe place, then dressed and hurried downstairs. She was late to breakfast and found Lady Margaret eating alone. “Have you seen Robert?”
“He and Iain left early to ride into Dumfries.”
“Why did they go there?”
“The sheriff sent word that he needed Robert to sign some papers related to the Englishman’s death.”
“So much has happened of late, I almost forgot about Philip,” Meleri said.
“He left this for you.”
She opened the note.
Meleri, my love,
I came back to see you last night, but you were sleeping soundly. It is my hope that the trip to Dumfries will be of short duration and I can return home soon. Keep a place warm beside you for me. Until then, I remain,
Your loving husband,
Robert
Robert returned shortly before dinner. Once the meal was over, they retired to the morning room to spend some time alone. He was sitting in a deep, comfortable chair Meleri called “his chair.” He was reading the paper he brought from Dumfries, a rare luxury for him. In spite of how much he enjoyed the pleasure of reading a current newspaper, he would peer, from time to time over the top of it, just to look at her.
She was sitting across from him, in her chair, which was a smaller version of his. He thought about the girl he married and wondered at the woman who had taken her place. Although she supervised and cleaned and ran their home with a cheerful exuberance and determination, there was a secret quality about her—a calm reserve that had never been there before. It pleased him greatly to think he might have had something to do with that—although he knew the old earl deserved most of the credit. For it was he who gave her the assurance that she was not only accepted, but trusted and looked up to as the means of restoring the Douglases to their former prosperity. The earl had provided the means for her to feel needed, respected and loved. Surely the glow that came from her was one of contentment.
She stopped reading for a moment and looked up as she placed the book in her lap. “What are you going to do with the jewels? Are you going to sell them right away?”
“No. I want to wait to see if more turn up. I don’t want to sell any more of our history than I have to.”
“I’m glad. I, too, hate the thought of parting with something that has been in your family for so long. But I know you can’t hold out forever. I received a letter from my sister, Elizabeth, in response to a letter I sent my father. She has spoken with his barrister, who is making the necessary arrangements to have my dowry transferred to you. Perhaps it will come in time.”
“I don’t want you to worry.”
“Your worries are mine. When I see the earl again, I will mention it to him. Unfortunately, he can’t be rushed. He comes and goes as it pleases him.”
“Don’t get too attached to him.”
A sad expression settled over her face. “It is too late for that, I’m afraid. I have already begun to grieve for the time that I know is not far away, the time when he tells me I will see him no more. It is quite a difficult and heartfelt thing to lose a friend. I don’t know if I can forgive him for leaving. I don’t look upon that final vanishing act as something I can accept as easily as I accepted the fact that I had formed a close attachment to a ghost.”
“Perhaps it is as difficult for him as it is for you.”
“I think it might be even more difficult for him. He is the one who has to leave, the one who must go.”
“Being left behind is not an easy thing to accept, either.”
“No, but my life is full of the closeness of you and your family.”
“Maybe he has someone waiting for him, as well.”
She smiled sadly. “I would like to know that he did,” she said. “If only there was some way to be assured of it.” She picked up her book again and gave it her attention, and he knew the discussion of the earl was ended, not because she did not want to continue it, but simply because she could not.
He saw the book of poetry in her hands and could not help thinking of this wife who loved flowers, animals, Scotland and books. Everywhere he looked, her saw her touches. Bowls of roses scented the air, and soon they would be replaced by the gleanings of approaching fall, which she was gathering on her solitary walks with Corrie and Dram. Already, he had seen her coming inside with a blast of fall air, great boughs of tawny-and-gold leaves in her arms.
He glanced outside to see the sun setting, casting its golden blessing on her immaculate garden, subdued with the last blush of summer’s fading flowers. Farther over, in the vegetable garden, early fall vegetables were maturing.
Meleri turned up the lamp beside her and he watched her movement, as mesmerized by the sight of her as he had been the first time he saw her. A moth fluttered about the lamp, thumping and tapping against it, but she did not seem to notice as she went back to her book. About him, the quiet of the room seemed to settle into his bones and he leaned back comfortably and released a sigh.
At the sound, she glanced up, and he could see the sadness was gone from her eyes.
“It’s nice having you back,” he said. “I missed you.”
“And I you. I find I can never stay very far away from you, or gone for very long.”
“That is because we are of one heart,” he said, and thought of no more perfect way to end another perfect day.