Sally’s green eyes, blond hair, and alabaster skin were, she liked to boast, Viking in origin. When her temper was up, as now, no one doubted her claim, and a wise person kept out of her way.
But Lorna’s last name wasn’t Dare for nothing. She tossed her head. “Hepburn,” she said, “is a rake. He takes advantage of women. Watch your step, Kate, or you may find yourself no more than another notch on his bedpost.”
“Now that,” said Sally with a laugh, “sounds like the voice of experience. What happened, Lorna? Did he resist your charms?”
Kate had expected a ribbing after Hepburn had singled her out, but she took instant umbrage to Lorna’s remarks. She wasn’t the least bit interested in Hepburn.
“Mr. Hepburn,” she said, “was Dr. Rankin’s friend. He has been very kind to me. That doesn’t mean that I am smitten with him or he with me. Isn’t it possible for a man and woman to be friends?”
“No,” came a resounding chorus of female voices followed by giggles.
“It’s just as well,” Lorna replied. “I have it from my maid, who had it from Miss Mayberry’s maid, that your Mr. Hepburn whiled away the afternoon in her mistress’s boudoir.”
Into the awful silence that followed, Mrs. Cardno said, “May I pass the decanter around?”
The glasses were replenished. Kate was just beginning to relax when Lorna spoke again. “There’s a rumor going around that Hepburn is one of those Grampian wizards, you know, an heir of Lady Valeria, the celebrated Witch of Drumore. Not that I believe in such things myself.”
“What?” Kate’s head jerked up.
“His grandmother, the late Lady Valeria McEcheran,” Lorna amplified.
“Don’t believe everything you hear,” responded Meg Brown. She was the oldest in the group and the shyest. “Lady Valeria’s gifts died with her. They pass through the female line, you see, and there were no females to inherit.”
“How do you know so much?” asked Sally.
“My grandparents live in Drumore. The village, I mean, not the castle. They told me.”
Sally said, “I think our little Meg has been making too free with the sherry decanter.”
Meg shook her head. “I’ve hardly taken a sip. Strong spirits don’t agree with me. Don’t look so worried, Kate. Lady Valeria was a good witch. But you know the family best, Mrs. Cardno. Is it true? Is Mr. Hepburn one of the heirs to Lady Valeria?”
Mrs. Cardno treated them all to a benign smile. “It’s true that Lady Valeria was his grandmother, but as for the rest, well, if you accept legends and the old knowledge, I suppose it’s possible. But as you said, Meg, Lady Valeria’s gifts were supposed to pass to the females in her family, not to the males.”
“But there were no females. Only Mr. Hepburn and his brother and a cousin.”
“True,” replied Mrs. Cardno, and she popped a small macaroon into her mouth.
“What kind of gifts would a good witch pass on?” asked Sally, sounding truly interested now.
“Clairvoyance,” replied Mrs. Cardno, “visions and dreams, and the ability to read minds. That sort of thing. Some of them are healers. But the gifts are selective. Not every seer has the same gifts. But I’m only speculating. The old knowledge died away, and we’re all more skeptical now.”
Kate wanted to hear more, but Mrs. Cardno veered off in another direction. “Sally,” she said, “have you set the date for your wedding yet? And when are we going to meet your betrothed?”
There was a twinkle in Sally’s eyes, as though she, too, was aware that the old lady had deliberately turned the conversation. “Didn’t Juliet tell you?” she said. “The wedding is in June, and that’s when you will meet Cedric—if he remembers to turn up. I don’t mean to shock you, Mrs. Cardno, but this will be a marriage of convenience. Cedric in not the least bit romantic, and neither am I.”
Mrs. Cardno nodded sagely. “Such marriages were common in my day, and very happily they turned out, too. I think young people expect too much from their partners these days. Love can grow from friendship, you know.”
From there, the conversation moved on to children, and how impatient Meg and Lorna were to get home to theirs. Everyone complained about the inconvenience of being marooned in the Highlands, especially as they had packed only enough garments for a three-day jaunt.
Macduff began to scratch the door. It was the perfect moment for Kate to excuse herself. She had nothing to contribute to the rearing of children. “I should take Macduff for a walk,” she told Mrs. Cardno. “Then I think I’ll toddle off to bed.”
Once in the corridor, she inhaled a long breath and let it out slowly. All this talk of wizards and witches was making her light-headed. Gavin Hepburn a wizard? She didn’t believe it! That was the thing about the Highlands. It was so isolated that the old superstitions continued to flourish.
Whoever had sent her that note believed in the old superstitions. He thought she was a witch. That was why he wanted to kill her.
Gavin Hepburn had saved her. She really was the most ungrateful wretch. She should be kissing the ground he walked on, not finding fault because he indulged in a little dalliance with Janet. She couldn’t be jealous. She hardly knew the man.
She let out a sigh. “Come along, Macduff—” She stopped. There was no sign of the dog. He must have trotted downstairs while she was woolgathering. Damn and blast that dog! What was she supposed to do now?
“Macduff,” she whispered fiercely. “Where are you, you bad dog? Get back here at once!”
Macduff either did not hear her or he had found an interesting scent to chase down. She could well imagine where that scent would lead him. The kitchen staff had taken to feeding him tidbits. They weren’t the only ones. When he cocked his head and looked up at her with those huge, mournful eyes, she couldn’t resist him, either.
There was such a thing as loyalty! Macduff was supposed to protect her! She was sorely tempted to leave him to his doggie vices. What stopped her was Gavin’s instructions. She could well imagine how he would react if she told him that she had mislaid his precious dog.
She took a moment to absorb her surroundings. No sense of danger came to her. All was quiet in the hotel. Normal. It was dark outside, but the corridors were well lit. The odd footman passed her and murmured a civil greeting. Emboldened, she walked to the end of the corridor and pushed through the door to the servants’ staircase. At the bottom of those stairs, two flights below, were the kitchens, and that was where she was sure she would find Macduff.
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. There were fewer lamps here than in the hotel’s corridors, but that came as no surprise. The hotel staff were early to bed and early to rise. All the same, she expected some of them to be up and about. Someone had to answer the bells that summoned servants to the guests’ bedrooms. And, obviously, someone had to be up to tempt Macduff with morsels of food. Step by slow step, she began to descend the stairs.
She was halfway down when the staircase door below her opened, letting in a shaft of light. With one hand on the rail, she froze, ears straining. Then it came to her, danger, not the kind of danger that made her skin crawl, but that odd apprehension that turned her bones to slush.
“Gavin Hepburn!” she said under her breath. It had to be him.
“What in hell’s name do you think you’re doing?” he demanded angrily.
When he drew level with her, he came into the light, and she had a clear view of that frozen jaw and lips pulled back in a snarl.
With some idea of delaying the evil moment when she had to confess that she’d lost his dog, she blurted out, “So what happened in Ballater?”
He did not unlock his jaw. “We’ll get to that later. What I want to know is what you are doing hiding out in the staircase? Didn’t I tell you not to let Macduff out of your sight?”
Because he had frightened her, her temper flared. “Your dog,” she said, “got away from me. What was I supposed to do? I was sure I would find him in the kitchen.”
Her answer seemed to inflame him more. “When you entered the servants’ staircase, you shut him out. He can’t open doors.”
“He deserted me! I didn’t desert him! And where is the traitor, anyway?”
“I sent him to bed.”
“Where did you find him?” Her voice was rising to match her frustration. Another thought occurred to her. “And how did you know I was in the servants’ staircase?”
“I didn’t know. I met you by chance. That isn’t the point. You were supposed to keep Macduff with you at all times. Have you forgotten what happened to Will?”
She was totally unprepared for the rush of emotion that swept through her. Her petty grievance with the man who was glowering at her seemed insignificant when she remembered what had befallen Will Rankin. How could she have forgotten even for a minute?
“Kate,” he said and reached for her. “I’m sorry.”
She took a quick step back.
He paid no attention to her involuntary movement, but reaching for her shoulders, he pulled her into his arms. “It’s all right to grieve,” he said, “but you can’t grieve every moment you’re awake. Will wouldn’t expect it of you. And this isn’t over yet. You are a target, too. Never forget it. All I want is to protect you. Will you remember that?”
She needed to be comforted, but not by him. She wanted her mother. Even her sister would do. She wanted petting and a shoulder to cry on. She wanted to unburden herself and share the horrible events of the worst night of her life.
She pushed out of his arms. “I was in the wrong,” she said. “I’m sorry. My mind wasn’t on Macduff, and I let him wander away. I didn’t think I was putting myself in danger. I was more worried about what you would say if I couldn’t find him.”
“You were more worried about a dog than you were about yourself?”
“No. Yes.” She lifted her shoulders in a tiny shrug. “Macduff saved my life. That makes him special.”
“What about me? Am I special, too?”
She tilted her head to get a better look at him. “Every woman thinks you’re special, Hepburn. Why should I be different?” She managed a convincing chuckle. “My friends were right about you,” she said. “You can make a female forget her own name. Now tell me what happened at the police station.”
He said something harsh under his breath and then indicated with a gesture that she should precede him up the stairs. When they pushed out of the staircase, Macduff came loping along the corridor to meet them. Not far behind him was Mrs. Cardno, leaning on a cane.
“I take it,” said Mrs. Cardno, “that all has ended well?”
Kate was staring at the cane. She couldn’t remember seeing it before. Who did Mrs. Cardno think she was—her bodyguard? The thought made her want to laugh.
“Yes,” said Gavin. “No thanks to one reckless young woman.”
“Then I’ll leave you to it,” replied Mrs. Cardno, and turning smartly, she hobbled toward her own door.
Kate was beginning to feel like a precocious school-girl who had to be kept on a tight rein. As they walked in the opposite direction from Mrs. Cardno’s, she said, “I thought you sent Macduff to bed?”
“I did, but of course, the door to my room is locked. As I told you, Macduff can’t open doors.”
“Your room?”
He had her by the elbow and was propelling her along the corridor. “I thought it best to be close at hand. I did mention, did I not, that you are probably still a target of some deranged killer? We have a lot to talk about, and we’ll be private in my room.”
He released her and unlocked the door to his room. It seemed ridiculous to protest. Shrugging negligently, she brushed by him and crossed the threshold. Macduff followed and made straight for the tall dresser and squeezed himself underneath it as though he wanted to hide.
Preoccupied with the dog’s strange behavior, she barely registered the key turning in the lock, and she gave a startled cry when she found herself grabbed by strong hands. Her eyes flew up to meet Gavin’s furious expression. She was so shocked, she could only stutter.
Eight
“What?” Her hands balled into fists. “What do you think you’re doing, Hepburn?”
Between his teeth, he replied, “I’m thinking how satisfying it would be to give you a good shaking. You did not obey my instructions, Kate.”
She dragged herself free and retreated, rubbing her arms where his fingers had dug in. She wasn’t afraid. Her temper was the equal of his, but her breathing was far more audible.
“You arrogant ass! I am not your dog to run and fetch on your command. I am my own mistress. I come and go as I please!” She continued to give ground as he pursued her. “I’m warning you, Hepburn. My Fraser cousins will break you into little pieces if you harm a hair on my head.”
She had retreated to the bed. It was too undignified to crawl over it, so she stood her ground and tried to stare him down.
“Your Fraser cousins,” he said pleasantly, “are not here. In their absence, I have appointed myself as your guardian until someone more suitable turns up to fill the slot.”
“Guardian!” she flung at him. “I came of age a long time ago!” Inch by slow inch, she edged away from the bed. If only she could reach the door, she would be home and free. “Unlock the door,” she commanded stridently, “or I shall scream the house down.”