Weddings From Hell

  A gasp went up. Every eye turned to Kira. She blinked rapidly, shooting a questioning look from her mother’s sister Emma, to her Aunt Rose, and finally sliding her gaze past them both to see Esmeralda. She didn’t look shocked or stunned or disappointed. She looked as if she was still waiting. Her face was an impatient, troubled expression of expectation.

  “But I thought she was going to divide her assets among all of her relatives,” Kira said. “That’s what you told me, when we first spoke on the phone, Ian, isn’t it?” She met his eyes, saw his solemn nod.

  “It’s what’s always done in the Clan MacLellan,” Ian told her. “I had no idea Iris had broken with that tradition.”

  “It’s a sizable bequest, Kira,” Gregory said. “Iris owned this castle and all the properties attached to it, which includes more than a thousand acres, much of it overlooking the sea. There are several houses and cottages within the tract as well. Not to mention vacation homes in Spain and Italy. Then there are the other assets. Her bank accounts, stocks, bonds, investments, savings.”

  Kira pursed her lips and swallowed hard. Then she shook her head slowly. “It’s not fair,” she said softly. “It’s not fair to all the other members of her family.” Lifting her gaze again she said, “What if I don’t want it? Can I refuse to accept it?”

  “Oh, I’m getting to that, lass. There are two stipulations in this will, and they are iron clad. The first is that should you refuse to do as your great aunt requests, in order to accept the inheritance—”

  “Do as she requests? What—?”

  He held up a hand, “Should you refuse to do as your great aunt requests in order to accept the inheritance, the properties will be sold, the stock liquidated, and the entire estate donated to several charities your aunt has listed within this document.”

  Stunned, Kira just stared at him, then looked at her aunts. “But it’s their home.”

  “We’re not poor, Kira,” Esmeralda said softly. “We certainly have accumulated a great deal of wealth on our own, although the deeds and such to our ancestral homes have always remained in the name of the eldest surviving daughter. Still, we would not be destitute.” She then shifted her stern gaze to Gregory again. “What is the other condition, dear friend?”

  Gregory licked his lips, and tugged at his collar. “I tried to talk her out of this. I vow, I tried. But there was no give in her. Not even a bit.” He glanced toward Ian. “I couldn’t tell you, son, though it nearly did me in keeping this to myself.” With a sigh, he lifted the documents and read on.

  “In order to inherit the estate, and thus preserve it for her family, both those who came before her, and those who will come later, Kira MacLellan is required to marry Ian Stewart within one week of the reading of this will.”

  Ian leapt to his feet, his mouth opening as if he were going to shout something, but no words emerged. Kira felt tears burning in her eyes. No one spoke. And then Esmeralda broke the stunned silence.

  “No. It canna happen.”

  “But Es,” Rose began.

  “’Twould mean her life,” Esmeralda stated flatly.

  “I resent that remark, Esmeralda,” Ian said, speaking at long last. “You know me far better than to think so little of me.”

  “Aye,” his father agreed. “’Twas Iris’s firm belief that the MacLellan family curse could be broken, and she vowed she would be the one to set that eventuality into motion. She’s been convinced, for years, that the ghosts who haunt these castle walls do not remain of their own free will, nor as a constant reminder and warning to the women of their line. But rather, that they are trapped here, unable to move on to the heaven they so richly deserve. And that they will remain so until the curse is broken.”

  He lifted the sheets, read further. “It was the disastrous marriage of the MacLellan witch to a Stewart man that set this curse into being,” he read. “Only the successful marriage of another MacLellan to another Stewart can break it. And having set eyes on them both, I’ve no longer any doubt these two are the ones who can do it. I’ve watched Kira from afar, kept tabs on her life. She is a good woman, and in possession of the legendary MacLellan beauty. Moreover, she’s a strong woman. As for Ian, I’ve never known a man more honest or true. Should these two wed, should they be ever faithful to one another, should he live out his life knowing only his bride, it is my belief that the curse will be broken. MacLellan women will be free to wed forever more, and the spirits of our mothers and theirs before them, will at last, be set free.”

  There was stunned silence, but it was followed soon by whispering and muttering that grew steadily louder.

  Kira turned her head left and then right, only to see eyes on her. Some of them seemed speculative, curious, nosy. Others appeared hostile. She saw greed in several faces, pity in others. Aunt Rose was one of those who seemed to feel sorry for her. She closed a chubby hand on Kira’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Aunt Emma was speculative, looking from Kira to Ian and back again, with a tiny frown between her brows.

  But it was Aunt Esmeralda who brought silence down hard on the room again with her nearly shouted declaration. “It willna be. I willna have it. And that’s all there is to be said on the matter.”

  “But Aunt Es—” Kira began.

  “Gregory, you are to begin seeing to the process of selling the holdings and liquidating the investments. First thing tomorrow, I want it underway. There’ll be no more of this nonsense.”

  “I think that’s up to Kira to say, don’t you Esmeralda?” Ian asked.

  His strong voice drew her eyes to his. He moved through the crowd of relatives toward Kira, and all those present parted to open a path for him.

  She held onto the strength in his gaze, locking her own with it and seeing there a steady reassurance. Everything would be all right.

  “Ian!” Esmeralda barked. “You canna tell me you intend—”

  “This matter is now a very private one.” He stood beside Kira, so close beside her that his body touched hers, and the warmth and power of it made her blood heat. “’Tis a decision that will take some time to make, and one that needs to be made in private, between Kira and myself. We’ll let you know when we’ve decided what’s to be.”

  Esmeralda lifted her steely brows and sent him a look that could have wilted a cactus. Rose wrung her hands, and pressed her lips tightly together. Emma, though, tipped her head to one side, looking at them both, exchanging a long glance with Gregory, and then finally, she nodded. “Ian is right. It’s no longer our business.”

  “He didn’t mean that,” Kira said quickly. “Of course it’s your business, it’s your home. But…yes, it really has to be up to me now.”

  She said me, not us, and she hoped Ian picked up on the emphasis she’d placed on the word. She had no intention of letting anyone—not her aunts, and not him—decide her life for her.

  “Understood,” Emma said. “Now, guests, we have enough food to feed half the township, so dig in. We feast, and then we sleep, and in the morning, things will look decidedly better.”

  “Things do tend to look better in the morning,” Rose muttered.

  “Always,” Kira agreed.

  Ian took her arm, and leaned in close. “I think we should talk. Don’t you?”

  She met his eyes and nodded once. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

  Chapter 7

  “So, pretty Kira, we’ve been placed in a hellish situation, yes?”

  He’d led her into a small study on the first floor, closed the door behind them, and flipped its lock. She crossed the room, which she’d never seen before, and sank into a soft leather chair. She wished she could keep on sinking, right out of sight.

  With a sigh, Ian crossed his arms where he stood, near the door. “I’m sorry this happened, lass.”

  “So am I,” she said softly. “And I certainly don’t expect you to marry me just to protect the family fortune.”

  “Of course you don’t expect it. But are you willin’ to do it?”

&
nbsp; She lifted her head with a snap, and felt her own eyes widen as they found his. “What?”

  He moved across the room until he stood just in front of her chair, and then he dropped down onto one knee in front of her. “Will ya marry me, lass?”

  “Get up, Ian.” She shot to her feet as she said it. “Get up and stop being ridiculous.”

  He rose to his feet as well, but kept trying to hold her eyes with his. And even though she kept averting her gaze, she found it drawn back to his over and over.

  “I donna find it ridiculous at all, Kira. There’s…somethin’ between us. Somethin’ more powerful than makes any sense, given the brevity of our acquaintance. You canna deny it.”

  “I don’t deny it. I’ve felt it too. Hell, it took my breath away from the first time I set eyes on you—I even felt it when we spoke on the phone, but Ian, how will we ever know where it might have led, given time? If we’re forced to marry now, our relationship will never have a chance to develop in a natural way.”

  “It felt pretty natural on the water yesterday, love.” As he said it, he slid his arms around her waist, pulled her a little closer, until their bodies were touching.

  “It’s insane, Ian. No, I can’t do it. I’d like to keep seeing you—I’m compelled to. I don’t think I could stop if I tried. But we can’t get married. Not like this. We barely know each other.”

  “And yet it feels as if I’ve known ya forever,” he said.

  She lifted her head in spite of herself, and he lowered his, kissed her, folded her up in his arms and held her hard as she opened to him, kissing him back as the heat flared between them. Her entire body began to tremble, and she felt an inexplicable, overwhelming rush of emotion that tightened her throat and burned in her eyes.

  When he broke the kiss and she melted against him, she felt his heart pounding as rapidly as her own. And she didn’t doubt he felt the same mindless need that she did. And yet it made no sense.

  “There’s no such thing as love at first sight,” she whispered, because she was incapable of speaking more loudly than that.

  “We’ve a week, Kira, a week in which to make this decision. I’ve lived to be near forty, and never felt the likes of this before. I’ve no illusion I’ll be feelin’ it again with another woman. But it makes sense to take the time we’ve been given before makin’ any decision. At least, donna refuse me until our time expires.”

  He stroked her hair, and she clung to him. “I just don’t understand any of this. Not what I feel with you, not this curse—”

  “I can promise you one thing, Kira. That curse will never harm ya, not if I’m the one you trust to keep ya safe.”

  She lifted her gaze to his. “I’m afraid.”

  “Aye, an’ so am I. But I’ve a suggestion.”

  She stared into his eyes, wondering if the caring she saw in them could possibly be real.

  “Try to pretend it’s just us, just the two of us, with a week to spend together. Forget the will an’ the curse and all the rest of it. An’ just focus on the two of us.”

  “How am I supposed to do that, Ian? How can I, with the aunts, and the castle and all of it, looming over me like a big blade waiting to fall?”

  He lowered his hands and clasped both of hers. “Come away with me. Your family owns a cottage on the coast, which they’ve given my family the right to use at will. It’s close enough that you can visit your relatives if you wish it, and yet far enough away to give us time and privacy to…to see where this may lead.”

  She looked down at their clasped hands, and sniffling, she nodded. “I couldn’t say no if I wanted to.”

  His hands tightened on hers. “I’m glad to hear it. I can think of nothing else but you, and I want nothing more than to be with you.”

  “I know. I feel exactly the same way. I just wish I understood why.”

  He licked his lips, lowered his head, and for the first time she had the feeling he was keeping something from her.

  “What? What is it?”

  He met her eyes again, and shook his head, as if whatever thought had crossed his mind didn’t matter. “Go and pack up some things. I’ll inform your aunts of our decision.”

  She did as he suggested, packing a week’s worth of things into one small suitcase and snatching up her makeup bag, and then she headed down the stairs to meet him. But as soon as she reached the bottom, the sounds of raised voices caught her attention.

  Slowing her pace, she crept nearer to the room, the very study where she and Ian had spoken only moments before.

  “You promised me you wouldna get involved with her, Ian,” Aunt Esmeralda said, her tone ice-cold and clipped.

  “That was before I met her. Esmeralda, what I feel for her—”

  “Is exactly what I warned you against. I’ve feared this very thing, Ian. Do you not see that it’s unfolding just as I predicted?”

  “Maybe it’s supposed to,” he said softly. “At least if we spend some time together, we might—”

  “Aye, aye, fine. Spend time together. But not there. Not at that cottage, of all places. Ian, it’s certain to end in tragedy.”

  “It willna,” he said, his tone grave. “Not this time.”

  She heard his footsteps coming toward the closed door, but they stopped when Esmeralda spoke again. “If she knew all of it, Ian, she wouldna choose to go there with you.”

  “Aye, indeed, what the lass needs is more of her spinster aunts’ silly superstitions clouding her mind.”

  “The curse is real, Ian, and it culminates in the two of you. How can you not believe that when you’ve seen it with your own eyes?”

  His hand clutched the door knob, began to turn it. “If that’s true, then it’s with us the curse will be broken. I would think you’d want that, Emeralda. To finally be free of this dark belief that you’ve allowed to keep you prisoner your entire life.”

  “I canna watch her die at your hand, Ian.”

  “I promise you,” he said. “That will never happen. More likely the moon would turn to dust than I would harm a hair on Kira MacLellan’s comely head.”

  The doorknob turned, and Kira backed up rapidly, suitcase in hand, to the bottom of the staircase, and stood there as the door opened. Ian exited the room, and saw her there, met her eyes and quickly pasted a warm smile over the troubled expression on his face.

  “Are you ready, then?”

  Trembling, and reminding herself that she did not believe in curses, she nodded.

  He came closer, and took the bag from her hand, then touched her cheek gently. “You look frightened, Kira. Are you having second thoughts?”

  “I just…I just have the feeling there may be something you haven’t told me.”

  He glanced back toward the study door. Esmeralda stood there now, watching them. Ian faced her again, and said, “There is something. But I’ll tell you all of it, lass, once we’re alone, and have time and privacy.”

  She held his eyes.

  “Hysteria and superstition needn’t be a part of the conversation,” he said. “I far prefer calm and logic to those things.”

  Kira felt herself nodding. “That makes sense. Frankly, another night here with the ghosts of this place haunting me isn’t something I’ve been longing for.”

  Esmeralda stomped away, muttering, “And you think the cottage will be better?”

  Chapter 8

  The “cottage” was bigger than most houses she’d seen. Two stories, with peaks and gables, and a widow’s walk, perched on high, looking out over the sea. Its siding was pale blue, its trim white, its driveway a worn dirt track. The grass was higher than it should have been, with tufts of weeds and rushes standing higher than the rest, here and there, waving softly with the ocean’s breeze. Beyond it was a rocky beach, and the sea, its waves rolling in endlessly. Seagulls cried and swooped in every direction. The place was beautiful. But dark. Something about it gave Kira a chill right down her spine.

  “It’s been a while since anyone has used it,” Ian
said. “The aunts wanted to have it torn down years ago, but my father was able to talk them around. They considered selling it then, but it’s been in the family longer than nearly any other holding, besides the castle itself. They couldn’t bring themselves to see another owner take possession.”

  “But they could have brought themselves to demolish it?”

  “It didn’t make any sense to me, either.” He got out of the car, reaching into the back seat for her bag before coming around to open her door.

  She opened it herself before he got there, however, and stood staring at the house with the wind blowing through her hair. There was something niggling in the deepest part of her mind, like a word on the tip of one’s tongue. It was calling to her, nagging at her to dig around and figure out what it was, but she wasn’t certain how.

  “I can’t wait to show you the place,” he said. “Come.” Taking her hand, he led her up the walkway, made of flat fieldstones, fitted together like a jigsaw puzzle. There were three steps up to the front door, and they dashed up them, then paused there at the top while Ian unlocked the door. He swung it wide, and she stepped inside and then gasped, overwhelmed with the most incredible sense of déjà vu she’d ever felt in her life. She stood there, almost nauseated with the surreal rush that swamped her. She pressed a hand to her forehead without being aware she was doing it.

  “Kira?” Ian dropped her case inside the door, facing her and taking hold of her shoulders. “Are you all right?”

  “I just…feel so strange.” She frowned, and looked around the foyer. The floors were hardwood, narrow boards in rich maple tones. The walls were covered in floral paper, and crown molding painted white gave the place an elegant, antique look. The windows stretched from ceiling to floor, with wide sills, and sheer curtains. It smelled like old wood and the sea.

  As Ian led her from room to room, she began to relax. Except when he showed her the room on the third floor, the only room there, in fact. It was a tiny room, that led out to the widow’s walk. There were candles and a book of matches upon a dusty table in the room’s center.