The Taming of a Scottish Princess

  Her brows lowered. “No?”

  “No. I mean, yes! Yes, it was nice, but it was also very, very—” He tried with all of his might to grasp a word that would encompass that heart-pounding exertion that even now was making his balls hum, but to his horror, he heard himself say once again, “—nice. But really, really, really nice.”

  She spun on her heel. “I’ll be back at nine. Be ready to ride.”

  Damn it, I must find the words! Why are the spoken ones so hard to come by? If I were writing a treatise on Amenhotep, this wouldn’t be so difficult. He stood. “Jane, wait. I should have said—”

  The door slammed behind her.

  CHAPTER 15

  From the diary of Michael Hurst:

  While I was busy rehearsing ways to get out of the verbal hole I dug for myself this morning, Jane went to see about the state of the roads. That was an hour ago and she hasn’t yet returned.

  If she’s not back in ten minutes, I’m taking Ramses and finding her and to hell with trying to say the right thing. This time I’ll just show her.

  Jane pulled Alexandria to a halt and looked up the road at the house that sat basking in the sunshine upon a bluff overlooking the sea. “Heavens,” she said aloud, the word whipped away by the wind. She’d thought Eoligary House was impressive, but it lacked the elegance of Lindsee’s manor.

  Good God. It’s a wonder Barra doesn’t sink into the sea with two such edifices weighing her down. Jane glanced back down the road she’d just traveled. Should I have come? But then she remembered Michael’s halting words and she turned Alexandria back down the drive and rode toward the house.

  Last night had changed things for both her and Michael. His halting profession of—what had that been? Mere like? He’d kept repeating the word as if he were drowning and that was the only word that offered to support his weight upon a troubled sea.

  Her cheeks burned at the memory, for it had been more than a little embarrassing to hear a moment she’d thought of as “exquisite” described in such a lackluster fashion.

  Of course, she hadn’t expected a protestation of love, but she’d thought she’d hear something more than a mere “nice.” Now she was confused. She felt something far more than “nice” for Michael Hurst. Her feelings were simple to describe, and were as large and passionate as the man himself. But she didn’t dare say those words aloud, not to him, nor to herself, especially after his weak declaration, if one could even call it that.

  Her heart heavy, she reached the portico of the house and a footman appeared almost instantly, taking the horse’s bridle. Jane unhooked her knee from the pommel and allowed another footman to assist her to the ground.

  Murmuring her thanks, she looked at the bold house and said under her breath, “Lindsee, you did well.”

  Not that Jane was surprised. Lindsee had always been focused on having a rosy future, which as a child seemed to involve nothing more than sitting on a large pillow while being fed berries and jam biscuits even during the coldest months of the year.

  But as Lindsee grew older, her vision of living well had expanded to include a carriage and six, a dozen servants, including a personal maid (which part Jane was expected to play until the real thing could be arranged), and a large house, all provided by a dashing man of means who would be passionately and completely in love with her.

  Lindsee had certainly gotten the house. It was three stories high, with large, wide windows that stared out to the sea. A portico held by graceful columns rose before the huge mahogany doors, encircled by shallow marble steps.

  It was, in a word, elegant. It was also rather surprising rising up here, in the same spot that had once held the more modest house Lindsee and her father had once made their home. Jane walked to the door, where a dour-faced butler, obviously ill at ease in his finery, met Jane and then led her into a lovely foyer filled with gilded furnishings and rose-colored rugs. Jane stared about her in bemusement that was only broken when Lindsee, coming down the wide staircase, gave a squeal and ran forward to envelop Jane in a perfumed hug.

  Jane stepped back and eyed her friend’s gown, a confection of yellow lace and satin. “Did I interrupt something? You look as if you’re going to a ball.”

  Lindsee made a face. “Och, no. If I don’t wear a ball gown now and then simply because I can, I’d never wear one.” She linked arms with Jane. “I’m so glad you’re here. I was hoping you’d come to catch up.”

  “Yes, well, I have an ulterior motive; Lindsee, I need some advice.”

  “Oh? About what?”

  “Men.”

  Lindsee nodded wisely and patted Jane’s hand. “Then come and have some tea. I can’t promise to have any answers, for men are as foolish as they’re braw, but I can at least have a good listen.”

  Moments later, they were perched upon a settee in a rose-and-gold-striped sitting room, sipping tea, the scent of bergamot and mint tickling Jane’s nose.

  She admired the gold edging on her cup and saucer before she took a sip. “I must say, you’ve certainly done well for yourself.”

  Lindsee looked about her with a contented smile. “I do love Dunganon.”

  “That’s a lovely name for a house.” She accepted the scone Lindsee handed her. “I don’t recall a MacDonald who lived upon Barra.”

  “That’s because he didn’t. Ian MacDonald lived in Oban and only came to Barra on his way to Ireland.” Lindsee smiled over her cup of tea. “He saw me at the dock in Castlebay and was instantly smitten. I was the same, for he was so tall and elegant.”

  “And wealthy,” Jane added.

  “He wore three rings and his ship was only one of an entire fleet and he owned them all.”

  “I can see that it was love at first sight.”

  “I loved his wealth immediately,” Lindsee agreed without a single flicker of remorse. Her expression softened. “It wasn’t until we were married that I fell in love with the man. And oh, I loved him so.”

  Jane tamped down a very unworthy flicker of envy. “I’m glad you found him.”

  “As am I. The choices for a husband on Barra are slim. But MacDonald was a very good husband.” Lindsee looked about the house and smiled. “He built Dunganon for me. He’d always say, ‘My dear, you deserve the best, and the best you shall have.’” She chuckled. “Which is not always true, but it was nice that he thought so.” She looked down at her teacup and her eyes grew wet as she said in a wistful tone, “I miss him still.”

  Jane patted Lindsee’s hand. “I’m sorry I mentioned him.”

  “No, no. ’Tis good to remember.” Lindsee put down her teacup and removed a lace-edged kerchief from a pocket in her gown and began dabbing at her eyes. “Of course, MacDonald spent far too much on the house, though he left me with plenty for the upkeep and gowns and whatnot. Even in death, he’s too good to me.”

  “You found what you’d always wanted.”

  “As did you. You were forever talking of having adventures. I truly thought I’d never again see you once you left Barra. You could have knocked me over with a feather when I realized it was you after all.”

  “From what my uncle has said, no one was supposed to know I was alive. I’m surprised you knew I wasn’t burned along with the castle.”

  “Aye, but Jaimie is not one to keep a secret.”

  “True,” Jane said. “I love the man, for he is like a brother to me, but—” She shook her head.

  “It’s hard to believe his father can be so masculine and in charge, and then Jaimie so weak.”

  Jane frowned. “You sound as if you admire David.”

  “I respect him. That’s all I can say.”

  Jane supposed that was fair. “He’s definitely a strong sort of man.”

  “In some ways, he reminds me of your Mr. Hurst.”

  “Of Hurst? How so?”

  “They’re both single-minded when they decide they want something and they’re set in their ways.”

  “Hurst is definitely set in his ways.” She ran h
er finger around the edge of her teacup before setting it on the table before them. “He’s every bit as stubborn as David, too. Hurst and I came to Barra to find a relic. It’s a family heirloom of sorts. There’s a clue to its whereabouts in the cave.”

  Lindsee made a face. “That’s a horrible place. I can’t believe I allowed you and Jaimie to talk me into going into it.”

  “We got out fine.”

  “Yes, but the boat almost washed away. If that had happened—” She shook her head. “It’s too dangerous to think about.”

  “Is the boat still where it used to be?”

  “There are two of them now. The men who harvest the kelp use them to visit the cove. Surely you’re not going back into that cave.”

  “We have to. Do you remember the carvings we found?”

  “Barely.”

  “They’re the clue we’re looking for.”

  “You’re certain that relic is on Barra?”

  “We have a map. It’s an odd map and you have to open three onyx boxes and lock them together to see it, but it’s definitely of Barra.”

  “Who would have ever thought Barra would hold treasure?” Lindsee took a small bite of a scone. “You mentioned before that this relic was supposedly magic?”

  “There are rumors surrounding this amulet. Some of the older records indicate there was something . . . odd about it. Queen Elizabeth grew so fearful of it that she refused to be alone in a room with it. She eventually gifted the amulet to an unsuspecting foreign dignitary to get it out of the country.”

  “What sort of magic does the amulet hold?”

  “Hurst thinks that people believe the amulet could tell the future of the person who holds it.”

  Lindsee’s eyes widened. “Do you think that?”

  “I don’t believe in things I can’t see.”

  “You can’t see love.” Lindsee poured more tea in their cups. “And I’m very certain it exists.” She paused, looking thoughtful. “It would be a wonderful thing to see one’s future. Then you’d know your decisions were right.”

  “Or wrong.”

  “Very true. Speaking of men, you said you needed some advice. I take it you’re talking about Mr. Hurst.” Lindsee picked up her cup, her brown eyes twinkling. “He’s quite handsome.”

  “He’s socially unacceptable. He says what he thinks when you don’t want him to, and then when you do, he can’t make a complete sentence.”

  “He sounds like a man.”

  “A stupid man.”

  “Don’t be redundant, dear.”

  Jane laughed. “Are all men that way?”

  “No, but like all women, every man has his own way of telling you what he wants you to know. Some men say it aloud, some men act it, and some men—a very few—are able to do both.”

  “Hurst can do neither.” Although she supposed his lovemaking meant something. It means he’s physically attracted to me, but seeing the dearth of woman on Barra, that’s not a huge compliment.

  “He sounds like a difficult man to get to know. How long have you worked for him?”

  “Four years.”

  “And during that time, you’ve developed feelings for him?”

  Jane hesitated, and then nodded.

  “And he for you?”

  Jane put down her cup, which rattled in the saucer. “Our relationship is not so progressed as you seem to assume. We’ve only recently— And that just caused more confusion, which—” Jane sighed. “Which is why I’m here. I am in such a quandary.”

  “I don’t know why. It seems as if things are moving along nicely.”

  “I don’t want them to move along.”

  Lindsee’s eyes widened. “No?”

  “No.” She thought about it for a moment. “I mean, I wouldn’t be adverse to it, but then when it ended— No. I don’t wish for it to progress.”

  “It sounds as if Hurst isn’t the only one who isn’t very good at expressing himself.”

  Jane frowned. “Ouch.”

  “That’s always been a difficult thing for you.”

  “That’s not true. I’ve always known what I wanted.”

  “You’ve always known that you wanted to travel. But I never heard you express a desire beyond that.” Lindsee took a thoughtful sip of her tea, her gaze resting on her cup. She smiled. “Jane, do you remember all of the tea parties we had when we were children?”

  “We had hundreds of them. You’d wear that big hat of my mother’s and play like you were the lady of the land. I got rather tired of being your upstairs maid.”

  Lindsee giggled. “To be honest, you were not a very good maid.”

  “I didn’t like brushing hair,” Jane said, curling her nose. “I still don’t.”

  “Not even your own?”

  “Especially not my own. I do it, of course. But it always tangles and—” She caught Lindsee’s interested look and threw up a hand. “Oh, no! Don’t even think it!”

  Lindsee’s gaze narrowed as she looked at Jane. “You’d look lovely with a French knot in the back and curls—”

  “No, thank you. I’ll do my own hair, if you don’t mind.”

  “Fine, though I don’t know why you won’t at least try it. You might like it, and that could help with—you know, your problem with Hurst.”

  Jane set her cup onto the saucer so hard that it rattled. “I don’t have a problem with Hurst.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “I just wished for some advice.”

  “Jane, you’re almost thirty and not married.” Lindsee patted Jane’s hand. “I’d call that a problem.”

  “Well, it’s not. I like being free and unfettered.” Or so she’d thought until she’d arrived on Barra with Michael just a few days ago. “Or I think I do. It’s not bad, being unmarried. I rather enjoy parts of it, although there are times when—” She frowned. “By Ra, you’re right. I don’t know what I want anymore.”

  “Maybe you’re changing. There comes a time between every decision where you have your feet in both the past and the future.” Lindsee pursed her lips. “This is where that amulet of yours could come in handy; it would let you know what you chose and how it ended up.”

  “I’m certain that amulet has no more powers than this teacup. But I see your point. Maybe I need to make some decisions before I worry about Hurst.”

  “It might help you make better decisions if you knew what you wanted. I’m still not certain where your difficulty is; you said he was attractive. Why not allow a relationship to develop?”

  “Lindsee, when I left Barra, I took only the few items left to me by my mother. Once those were gone, I had to find work, which I did. Now I make my own way in the world. If I don’t work, I don’t eat. Getting involved with Hurst means that not only our relationship would change, but also my employment. I know from experience that you can’t have them both.”

  “In all of the years since you left, I never once thought about how you’d make your way, but perhaps I should have.” Lindsee looked around at the opulent room where they sat before she turned her dark gaze back to Jane. “I went from my father’s house to this one. I can’t imagine not living under the protection of a man.”

  “You’re doing it now.”

  Lindsee flushed. “I won’t be alone forever.”

  “So you’ll leave Barra?”

  “Never. I’ll simply find another husband and bring him here.”

  “Lindsee, why don’t you sell the house and leave?”

  “But where would I live?”

  “Anywhere you wanted. You could take the funds from the sale of this house, travel a bit, see the world and—”

  Lindsee chuckled. “Och, Jennet, ’tis like old times after all. Me, wanting to just drink my tea and enjoy my gown, while you talk of travels afar.”

  Jane had to laugh. “You’re right. It is like old times. I always wanted more for you than Barra.”

  “And I always wanted you to find peace somewhere, whether it be on Barra or no.”
Lindsee set her teacup on the table and grasped one of Jane’s hands between her own, which twinkled with rings of all sizes and colors. “Jane, I don’t know what to tell you about Hurst or your future. I can see that you have bigger concerns than simply grasping the happiness of a moment. But don’t throw away the happiness of a moment over something as silly as uncertainty. You’d be better off remembering the MacNeil motto.”

  “‘Buaidh no bas,’” Jane said softly. “‘Conquer or die.’” It was difficult to face, but perhaps Lindsee was right. Maybe her concern for her future was preventing her from fully grasping the opportunities that were right before her.

  Jane glanced at the clock and stood in a rush. “Oh! I have to go. Hurst will be waiting on me. We’re to go to the caves today.”

  Lindsee arose, too. “Of course. I’ll walk to the door with you.”

  Moments later, Jane turned her horse down the road toward the inn and urged Alexandria into a sharp trot. Both the cave with its treacherous path and Michael Hurst awaited her, and she wasn’t certain which made her more nervous.

  CHAPTER 16

  From the diary of Michael Hurst:

  I have collected copies of every known reference to the Hurst Amulet. I have maps showing places it was reported to have been; books that describe it in thorough, though probably erroneous, detail; and I’ve even seen a portrait of Queen Elizabeth wearing the blasted thing. I’m completely certain I’ll recognize it when I see it. I hope.

  No one said anything about a boat.”

  Jane turned a startled glance to Michael. “Yes, I did.”

  He frowned, vaguely remembering it now. “Well, I had forgotten.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.” She pointed to the boat at their feet. “There’s a boat.”

  “Thank you,” he said as gravely as he could.

  “With oars.”

  “So I see.”

  “It’s made of wood,” she continued, her voice as helpful as ever.

  He scowled. “If you wanted to make me regret my comment, you’ve succeeded. You may now be silent.”