Michael took a grateful drink of his coffee. “I dislike this climate. The rains in Egypt were heavy but rare. The dampness here permeates even the air indoors and leaves one just as wet as if one had jumped into a pond.”

  “The rains are persistent,” Jane agreed. She wiped her fingers on her napkin and then rose and walked toward the windows. “We can at least visit the site of the cave today, even if it’s too late in the day to enter.”

  “We can ride to the glen, too.” Michael refilled his cup and rose to join her. The gray light washed out her features and stole the warmth of her brown gaze. Yet it also showed the delicate line of her cheek and brow, highlighting her serene nature.

  “I’ll be glad for a long ride, though these roads are not in good repair. We’ll have to be cautious.” Jane’s brow creased. “I noticed the state of the roads yesterday. And the dock, too. Both are in disrepair.” She shook her head. “That should never be.”

  “Oh? Is this the daughter of the laird speaking now?”

  She shot him a frown. “Tax money is collected from the good people of Barra for just such repairs. Or it used to be. But I’ve been away a long time and who knows how things stand now?” She managed a smile. “I should leave well enough alone.”

  “Ah, but can you?” he mused aloud. Through the window, he caught sight of Mr. Macpherson as he led a horse pulling a cart through the courtyard. The man stared openly at Michael and Jane, suspicion clear in his expression. Michael had had a lively conversation with the man the day before about boarding the horses. Macpherson’s idea of boarding them was to charge an exorbitant amount for hay.

  Perhaps that’s why this rain irritates me; it reminds me of these damn Scots. They eye me with caution, offer no help nor information without some sort of bribery, and leave one dissatisfied with whatever small answer they deign to deliver. “Secretive, prideful people,” he muttered. “And so damn suspicious.”

  Like the rain, he could feel their gazes filtering across him like a thousand wet cobwebs, tickling his face and nose and lashes and mocking an honest man’s attempt at staying dry. “Give me a good English rain any day of the week,” he said, looking at the endless gray sky.

  “Oh, yes,” Jane said in a brisk tone. “Because English rain is ever so much drier.” She twinkled at him. “I’m going to change into something more suitable for exploring. You should do the same.” She walked toward the staircase. “And watch the beams, or you’ll spend the rest of the day with a headache.”

  “Thank you for that word of wisdom,” Michael called after her.

  “You’re welcome.” Her voice drifted down the stairwell. “That’s what I’m here for.”

  CHAPTER 9

  From the diary of Michael Hurst:

  Today I visited the cliff above the cave that harbors the final clue to the Hurst Amulet. I also met an intriguing inhabitant of Barra, a woman who just might hold the truth about the recalcitrant Miss Smythe-Haughton.

  Though I’ve yet to see the sun shine on this grassy rock, the world seems a little brighter now.

  The rain had slowed to a hazy drizzle by the time Jane and Michael left the inn. Jane had changed into a sensible gray riding habit that would offer some protection from the weather. By the time she reached the courtyard, Michael was astride Ramses, and they appeared menacing when silhouetted against the gray sea.

  Once she was mounted, Jane turned her horse and led the way down the muddy road, the misty coolness doing her spirits good. They had to keep the horses to one side, single file, on the part of the road that was less slick. It was tedious riding, but at least they were out of that too-small house. Jane led the way to an old bridle path where she turned inland, Ramses clopping behind.

  As they rode, Barra rose to greet Jane. The hillocks were more pronounced inland, the ground lush and green.

  Michael said in a musing tone, “There are very few trees.”

  “They were cut down to make boats and furniture,” she answered over her shoulder. “Except for a copse on the southern end of the island, there are no forests left. That’s one of the problems with many of the islands: there’s a never-ending need for building materials. They have to either ship or float it over from the mainland.”

  “At least it hasn’t diminished the beauty of the land.”

  A flicker of pride made her smile. Barra did indeed possess a fairylike beauty, something she had tried hard to forget. The green land was broken by silvery gray stones that dotted the fields, the southern slopes filled with pale purple heather.

  “Where are we now?” Michael asked from behind her.

  “We’re northwest of Castlebay, near Loch Tangasdale.” Jane urged Alexandria to a trot down the path. Though she enjoyed the freshness of the air, she was glad for the hood on her cloak, as it kept most of the water droplets from her spectacles.

  As they rounded a bend in the trail, a tall standing stone surrounded by heather came into view. Jane pulled Alexandria to one side and turned to Michael as he halted Ramses beside her. Water beaded like pearls across his broad shoulders and in his black hair.

  She gestured toward the path. “Would you like to see MacLeod’s Tower? It’s not far from here.”

  “How old is it?”

  “Fifteenth century, but it stands on an ancient dun that holds evidence of an earlier settlement.”

  Interest warmed his blue gaze. “By all means, then.”

  With a flush of reciprocal excitement, she turned Alexandria down a path that passed beside the standing stone and led between two hillocks. They followed the path as it narrowed, turned sharply, and then opened onto a glen that widened to encompass a beautiful lake. She paused to soak in the sight, her heart beating painfully at a sudden rush of memories. As a child, she’d loved this lake. She’d swum in it almost daily and sailed upon it in a small boat she’d kept hidden on the far side.

  Michael pulled up beside her, and they looked across the loch to a small island where a crumbling three-story tower of moss-covered stones stood watch over the glassy water. “It’s a picturesque place, though I can’t imagine needing a fortification in that particular location.”

  “Oh, there’s a reason it’s placed where it is, but you’ll have to visit the tower to understand. I sometimes wondered if an older edifice was there before this.”

  “It’s possible. We’ve discovered that most fortresses are built upon the sites of older ones.”

  “There’s an old Viking grave here, too.”

  From beneath his hood, Michael’s eyes brightened with interest. “I’d like to see that.”

  “The headstone is missing, but I know where the grave is.”

  He glanced at the dripping sky. “Another trip, then? Perhaps tomorrow, if it’s not raining as much.”

  “Perhaps.” She pointed to a shallow section of the loch. “I used to keep a boat hidden in that cove when I was a child. I would bring bread and cheese and row to the island, and spend the day pretending to be a princess in a castle.”

  “By yourself?”

  “Oh, no. My friend Lindsee made a much better princess than I did, for try as I might, I could not make it to MacLeod’s Tower without a messy gown.”

  “I can’t imagine,” he said politely.

  She sent him a laughing look. “My father and I fished here, too. I caught quite a few brown trout in this loch.”

  “It’s certainly an idyllic place,” Michael admitted grudgingly. Barra’s beauty was unsurpassed. Try as I may, I just can’t match Jane’s pragmatic, no-nonsense view of life to this fairy-tale island.

  A distant rumble from the gray clouds overhead made the horses prance nervously, and Jane frowned. “If you wish to see the cave entrance, we should go now. It looks as if a storm is brewing to the west.”

  Michael nodded, and they rode out of the glen the same way they’d entered. As they rounded the bend leading to the main road, they pulled up their horses at the sight of a lone mare standing in the center of the road. It wore a fancy Engl
ish saddle, a broken rein trailing on the ground.

  “Oh, dear.” Jane stood in her stirrups and looked down the road, but the shrubbed hillocks gave her very little view. “Someone must have been tossed.”

  “The mare’s eyes look a bit wild, so it was probably recent.”

  Jane had to agree. The animal blew nervously and jumped a bit, turning, as if considering a gallop in the opposite direction.

  Michael was off his horse instantly. He handed his reins to Jane and carefully approached the lone horse. The mare skittered back, but Michael was already close enough to grab the longer of the broken reins. “Easy, girl,” he murmured.

  Jane watched as he calmed the horse, speaking in a low, even voice and patting its lathered neck. “You’ve always been good with animals. Well, except camels.”

  He sent her a grin. “Blasted spitting creatures of hell that they are.”

  She chuckled. “That mare is a beautiful creature. Someone must have paid dearly for her.” Jane’s smile began to fade. “I wonder who— Oh, there they are.” She pointed up the lane. “There.”

  A woman in a brown riding habit came limping down the lane, leaves sticking to her skirts. “I’ll go and see how badly she’s injured,” Jane said.

  Michael took Ramses’ reins. “I’ll calm the mare and then bring her on.”

  Jane spurred her horse forward, noting that the woman’s fashionable habit, tall hat and veil could have easily fit in Hyde Park. It was odd to see such high fashion on Barra.

  As Jane reached her, the woman looked up, the brim of her hat shading her eyes, the fashionable veil obscuring her face.

  Jane pulled her horse to a stop and slipped off. As she did so, the woman pushed aside the veil.

  Jane’s mouth fell open. “Lindsee?”

  The woman blinked at her. She was still beautiful, with dark gold hair and rich, brown eyes. Recognition flickered, then flared and she gasped. “Jennet?”

  Jane nodded and was instantly enveloped in a swift, laughing hug. “Jennet, I can’t believe— How did you come— When did you— I’ve wondered—”

  Jane glanced over her shoulder and was relieved to see Michael examining the mare’s hooves, apparently making certain it hadn’t thrown a shoe. “Lindsee, I’ll explain all, though I haven’t time right now.”

  “Och, you haven’t changed a bit!” Lindsee’s gaze shimmered with excitement. “I’ve thought of you so often over the years, wondering where you were or—” Her eyes widened. “Wait. Does Jaimie know you’re here?”

  “No.” Jane sent another covert glance at Michael and grimaced to find him now watching them. He was too far away to hear, thank heavens. “Here, let me brush the leaves off your habit.”

  “Oh, never mind those. Jennet, it’s so good to see you!”

  “And you. I never thought you’d still be on Barra. The night I left, you said—”

  “Yes, yes, I said I’d be gone within a fortnight, but things didn’t happen as I’d wished and so—” Lindsee frowned. “Does your uncle David know you’re here?”

  “No. No one knows. Is David still on the isle?”

  Lindsee tucked a curl behind her ear. “I hear that he visits frequently.”

  “Oh, no. Jaimie has the spine of a piece of fresh bread and will never withstand his father, even though I told him time and again that there’s naught to fear of David other than a lot of hot and unkind words.”

  “Aye, I know you thought you left your cousin in a good position, but he’s—” Lindsee shook her head. “Jennet, ’twas a grand plan, but things haven’t progressed as you’d hoped.”

  “I know. I saw Kisimul.” Jane couldn’t keep the choke of tears from her voice.

  “I’m sorry,” Lindsee whispered. “It was horrible. Everyone thought you were dead, and other than David and Jaimie, I was the only one who knew differently. Though it was hard, I didn’t tell a soul. I knew you’d want me to keep quiet.”

  “I don’t know why they felt they had to kill off Jennet in such a spectacular fashion, but I’ll find out soon enough. My cousin is due a visit. And perhaps David, too.” Jane frowned. “What’s happened to Barra? The roads are nigh impassable, and I noticed that the dock at Castlebay needs repair. Where’s the tax money going?”

  “I suppose it’s all going to Eoligary House, for ’tis a grand one. Jaimie built it for that sour-faced wife of his.”

  Jane ground her teeth. “By Ra, Jaimie will answer for this.”

  “Jennet, what can you do about it? They had you declared dead.”

  “Jennet MacNeil may be dead, but Jane Smythe-Haughton is alive and well, and capable of handling anything Jaimie and his father toss my way.”

  “So you mean to stay and right things?” Lindsee looked concerned. “Oh, Jennet, are you certain—”

  “Hold. I can’t stay, but I can at least deal with my cousin and uncle before I leave. If I’d known that Jaimie would ignore his duties as laird, I’d have never left.”

  Lindsee looked doubtful. “I’m sure you’ll try to fix things, but if you didn’t come back to stay, then why did you return?”

  “I work for an Egyptologist and we’ve information that a famed amulet is hidden somewhere on this isle.”

  Lindsee’s brown eyes brightened. “Is it valuable?”

  “It’s worth more than money, as ’tis a family heirloom.” Jane hesitated but, encouraged by Lindsee’s eager expression, added, “They say it holds an ancient magic, though I don’t know that I believe it. I’ve seen many things thought to be magic over the years, and none of them turned out to be so.”

  Lindsee tugged her cloak higher against the rustling wind. “Still, if the amulet is ancient, as you say, it must be worth something.”

  “I hope so. Once Hurst and I find it, we’ll go on to our next expedition.”

  “Next expedition?”

  “We’ve been on many and plan on several more. I’ve been to Egypt, India, Greece—”

  “Oh, Jennet, you’ve been having such adventures!”

  “Too many of late. We arrived at Castlebay yesterday. We’re staying at the Macphersons’ and—” While she’d been talking, Jane had peeped around Alexandria and caught a glimpse of Michael walking toward them, the horses trailing behind. Jane whirled back. “Here comes my employer. Mr. Hurst is a prying sort of man and would no doubt ask you hundreds of questions if he knew you were my childhood friend. You must promise not to get drawn into conversation with him; he’s a wily one and determined to find out about my past.”

  Lindsee didn’t look convinced. “Jennet, I—”

  “Jane. Please, this is important.”

  Lindsee’s gaze narrowed suspiciously. She stood on her tiptoes and peeked over Alexandria’s shoulder. “Your employer is a handsome man. Wouldn’t it be easier if you just told him the truth?”

  “You don’t know Michael Hurst. If he were a different kind of man, I could just tell him a bit of what’s occurred and say I wished to explain no more, and he’d accept that, but Hurst has never settled for half of the truth about anything. Discovering secrets is what he does, and I’m not about to be some sort of artifact he’s dug up just to get a closer look at before he boxes it up and ships it off to some museum!” Jane could hear the clop of the horses getting agonizingly close. She grasped one of Lindsee’s gloved hands and said in a low voice, “Just trust me on this. I’ll come and see you and explain all.”

  “You must. I only hope you will—”

  “Good afternoon.” Michael’s deep voice jolted Jane and made her realize that she still held Lindsee’s hand.

  Jane patted the back of it. “I’m so glad you weren’t injured, Miss— Ah, I’m sorry. What is your name?”

  “It’s Lady MacDonald,” Lindsee said with a shy reserve. She held her hand out to Michael. “And you are?”

  Michael took her hand, his eyes widening as he caught sight of her lovely face. “I’m Michael Hurst. It’s a pleasure.”

  Lady MacDonald? Jane wished she’d had
more time to talk to her childhood friend. There was obviously much yet to be discussed. “Lady MacDonald, I hope you didn’t hurt yourself when you fell.”

  “Oh, no,” Lindsee said. “I only hit my—” She patted her rump and then glanced at Michael and blushed. “I mean, I’m fine. Just a small bruise, if that.”

  “Even a small bruise can be painful.” Michael handed his horse to Jane. “Allow me to fix your reins so that you can get home safely. One was broken during your fall.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Hurst.”

  “It’s nothing.” He pulled out a pocketknife and cut a length from the unbroken rein and began to weave it together with the broken one. “Tell me, Lady MacDonald, are you a longtime inhabitant of this charming island?”

  Lindsee sent an imploring glance at Jane, who hurried to say, “Lady MacDonald is new to the island and only visits now and then.”

  “That’s right,” Lindsee said, obviously relieved.

  “Ah. That’s a pity,” Michael said. “I was hoping to find someone who knew the history of Barra.”

  Jane added, “I was telling Lin—Lady MacDonald about how we came to the island to look for an old family relic of yours.”

  “So she did,” Lindsee said in her soft brogue. “I hope you find it.”

  “We will.” Michael tugged the woven spot to check its strength. “We will find all of Barra’s secrets or we won’t leave.” He handed the patched reins to Lindsee. As he pressed them into her gloved hands, his eyes gleamed and he smiled. “There, that will at least get you home.”

  Jane’s heart stuttered, a totally unfamiliar feeling entering her heart. Lindsee had always been a beauty. When they were younger, Lindsee had possessed all that Jane had wished for—a rounded figure and creamy skin, laughing brown eyes, and thick, dark gold hair that shone with a gloss that Jane’s messy mane could never replicate.

  Lindsee was a bit rounder now, her face softened, her eyes larger in her heart-shaped face, and she was every bit as beautiful or perhaps more so. It wasn’t fair, Jane decided.