Heart of the Druid Laird (15 page)

“Fair enough.” Dermot helped her up the steps into the jet. “I think you’ve met everyone except Donald.”

She tried hard not to let her mouth fall open at the luxury before her. Two rows of leather recliners lined either side of the cabin; a bar, microwave and a small refrigerator banked a door in the rear, and a large flat-screen TV took up most the front wall.

A tall blond stopped next to the portal into the cockpit, nodding to her. “I’m Donald. Niall and I will be piloting this flight. We’ll stop once to refuel before crossing the Atlantic. Please get settled. We’ll taxi onto the runway shortly.”

Sidney followed Dermot to one of the rows of recliners. She set her cane against the wall and sank into the soft leather seat by the window. “Nice. You certainly travel in style.” He helped her shrug out of her parka before she settled back.

“I only take the jet when I must. I don’t much care for flying.” He sat next to her and lifted the armrest between them. “These seats swivel to face the center of the cabin.” He leaned across her lap. “I’m making sure it’s locked for takeoff. Fasten your seat belt.”

“You’re afraid of flying?”

“Aye, he does no’ like heights of any kind,” Thomas remarked from across the aisle.

“I love it.” She smiled. “Being in a plane always puts me to sleep.”

“That’s another thing,” Thomas added. “The Druid hardly ever sleeps.”

Odd, he’d had no trouble sleeping the other night. In fact, she’d worried he would sleep all day. She sighed and turned to watch the tarmac as they approached the runway. How long had it been since she’d taken this much time off from work? Especially with a man as attractive as Dermot? Never. Perhaps sometime during the next week Dermot would figure out what he wanted. Maybe they’d be able to work through his ambivalence and find a future together.

Sure, and maybe the sheep in Scotland laid hard-boiled eggs.

She stared out the window and let the motion lull her while the world below fell away.

A half hour into their flight, Sidney’s body went slack. Dermot reclined their seats and eased his arm around her. She settled against him without waking, and he was filled with contentment—yet another unfamiliar experience for him. How could he work his way back into her bed?

Perhaps he’d go the flowers-and-gifts route, fly her to Edinburgh or Glasgow to take her out to expensive restaurants and ply her with fine wine. He’d show her his bees and the orchard. Maybe he’d even invite her to his stillroom and share his collection of rare art. Surely Sidney would appreciate what he’d managed to acquire over the centuries. He’d even make a gift out of her favorite piece.

He’d been miserable for almost two millennia. Now the desire to share everything about his life made him realize how many things gave him pleasure. Had he simply forgotten because he had no one with whom to share them?

“Dermot.” Lachlan loomed over him in the aisle. “I’d like a word.”

His contentment vanished, and he glanced at Sidney. “Now?”

“Aye, while Sidney and Thomas sleep.”

He turned to glimpse his cousin across the aisle. Nodding reluctantly, he disentangled himself and followed Lachlan to the cargo bay. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what Lachlan had to say. He preferred to hold Sidney while planning ways to please her—and pretending he wouldn’t be dead in a week.

Lachlan closed the door behind them and leaned against it with his arms crossed in front of him. “Thomas has gone and promised the wee blonde lass a future. He says they’ll marry after the curse is lifted.
After
the curse is lifted, for chrissake. How did this happen?”

“You know Thomas as well as I do.”

“At least you could’ve told her what is to come. It’s no’ likely she would’ve gotten involved with him if she knew.”

He shook his head. “Thomas already told her. His version of what is to come, anyway. Zoe is Iselda reborn. As much as I disapprove of Thomas’s actions, I do no’ blame him. Can you imagine how’d you’d feel? You remember—”

“Damn.” Lachlan shoved his hands into his pockets. “I remember all right. What those bastards did to Iselda that day still haunts my dreams. What god did we piss off so badly that we deserve to be punished over and over, do you think? Thomas has never recovered, and now it’ll be her turn to continue on without him.”

“If that’s all—”

“Nay. There’s more.”

“What else?” Dermot’s stomach clenched.

“When we came to fetch the Jeep in Ely—” Lachlan studied the floor of the jet, “—I noticed Sidney said you’d made
the
bed. No’ the beds. I see the way you look at her. We all do. Are you sleeping with her?”

“As Thomas pointed out earlier, I hardly sleep.”

“I’m no’ talking about sleep. Have you bedded the lass?”

“You’re crossing a line.”

“What the hell is going on? First Thomas, and now you? I suspected you were getting in too deep when we bought the dress, but this…” He shook his head. “We have but a handful of days until the anniversary of Mairéad’s murder. One chance to end this wretched curse, and you’re the only one who can do it. Is your commitment to us wavering?”

Guilt washed through Dermot. He had gotten in too deep, and it was well past time he remembered why he’d crossed the ocean to find Sidney. It wasn’t to take her sightseeing, or to share his life and risk his heart. Gods, it was time for a reality check. “You’ve no need for concern. I’ll do my part.”

“Do we need to worry about Áine? She’ll try to prevent you from returning Sidney to the place of Mairéad’s murder, won’t she?”

“Aye, she sent the blizzard that caused Sidney to sprain her ankle. I’ve cast a protection spell over the jet as a precaution.”

Lachlan lifted an eyebrow at his revelation. “Did you tell Sidney?”

“Nay. I don’t want her to be frightened. She’s had enough to deal with.”

Lachlan nodded. “What will you do about Thomas and his lass?”

“What will
I
do? When have I ever interfered in anyone’s private life?” He glared at Lachlan. “There is nothing to be done. We’ll die, and that will be the end of his engagement.” Dermot wanted to shove Lachlan away from the door. He wanted his fist to connect with something. He’d never wanted to be laird of his clan, or a Druid. He hadn’t chosen any part of his life, and right now resentment choked the air out of his lungs.

For the first time in his long life, he didn’t want to die. Not now, not since he’d met Sidney, and it was just one more thing he had no control over. Gods, he knew how Thomas felt. He couldn’t draw enough breath into his lungs. “Move.”

Lachlan shot him a curious look and stepped aside. “Dermot—”

“You’ve naught to be concerned about. I’ve nothing more to add.”

After they’d stopped for a meal and fuel, Dermot dozed off and on. Sidney had bought a book at the airport, but after reading for about an hour, she set it aside, leaned against him and fell asleep again. Shifting himself in his seat, he glanced across the aisle where Lachlan and Thomas played cards. The vast expanse of the Atlantic sparkled below them. Soon they’d be home.

The jet lurched, and dropped. He gripped the handle of his chair with one hand and tightened his hold around Sidney’s shoulders. He hated flying and heights of any kind. They dropped again and bobbed forward like a rock skipping along the surface of a loch. “Shite.”

Donald stepped through the cockpit door. “We seem to have hit some kind of turbulence that should no’ exist. There’s no’ a cloud in the sky and no reports of any weather to speak of. Our control panel has gone out of control. We—” The jet listed hard to the side, and Donald had to grip the portal frame to remain standing.

“Áine.” Dermot looked around the cabin at each of his men. The sound of their engines stuttering sent his heart pounding. “I’ll deal with this. If Sidney wakes, she’s no’ to know we’re under attack.”

“Hurry,” Donald said and turned back to the cockpit. “I do no’ fancy a swim in the Atlantic.”

Dermot breathed deep to calm himself. He should’ve known his protection spell wouldn’t protect them from Áine. It had been too hastily thrown together. Slipping into a trance, he searched for the threads of magic. Once he found them, he set to work unraveling her hold on their jet.

Sidney jerked awake beside him. The desire to comfort her was a distraction none of them could afford. One of the engines stopped. He turned his focus to deal with the new threat and shut himself off from everything around him.

Sidney’s life depended upon it.

“What the hell is going on?” Sidney sat up in her seat just as the jet bounced and dropped.

“Um, we’ve hit some turbulence,” Lachlan told her.

“It sounds like one of the engines has stopped.” She wanted to believe him, but a glance out the window told her otherwise. “What kind of turbulence could there be? We aren’t flying through any kind of storm.”

“Well, sometimes there are jet streams and air currents…” Thomas leaned forward in his seat. The jet lunged and rattled. The remaining engine made a stuttering noise.

“Shite.” Thomas gripped the back of the seat in front of him. “I never did much care for bumpy rides.”

“Are we going to land? Something’s wrong with this jet. I think we should turn around right now and land before things get any worse.” Sidney fastened her seat belt with trembling hands.

Lachlan nodded toward her window. “We’re over the ocean, lass. It’s a hell of a long swim to either shore.”

“No’ to mention the water is bloody cold,” Thomas added. “We could do it though. There’s a life raft in the cargo bay. If Dermot can manage to keep us levitated until we can put down on the ocean’s surface, we can take turns swimming and keep Sidney in the—”

“What the hell are you talking about?” she shouted. “How can he sleep through this?” She turned to shake him awake. “We’re going to crash, aren’t we? I’m going to die before I’ve even had a chance to live.”

Lachlan shot out of his seat and stopped her. “He’s no’ sleeping. Do no’ disturb him while he’s in a trance. He’s trying to divert the, um, turbulence and deal with the engine problems.”

She searched Lachlan’s face. “Can he do that? Can he keep us levitated like Thomas said?” She’d seen Dermot send a blizzard away, but fixing failing mechanical parts? All of this was way beyond her. Panic must be clouding her judgment, because she desperately wanted to believe whatever Lachlan told her.

“Aye.” Lachlan patted her hand. “He won’t let anything happen to you. Trust him.”

The dead engine coughed back to life, and the other stopped its out-of-control revving. Her eyes filled with tears of relief. My God, was there anything Dermot couldn’t do?

Oh, yeah, give his heart.

“Did I no’ tell you?” Lachlan patted her hand again and returned to his seat. “Everything is going to be fine.”

“There you have it, Eithne.”

“There I have what, mistress?” Eithne frowned as she set the tray of food down on the table next to Áine.

“I have tried twice now to prevent the Druid from bringing the human back to Scotland, and twice he has foiled my attempts.”

“Oh? I’m
certain
you tried your hardest, Princess Áine.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eithne’s dry tone set her on edge. “Of course I did. They should be snowed in right now at Sidney’s summer home. The damned Druid sent my lovely blizzard off. You saw just now how he thwarted my efforts to put their jet down in the middle of the ocean.”

“What I see, if you don’t mind my saying, is the smug look of satisfaction on your face. I know you too well. Had you wished to succeed, you would’ve.”

“Hmm. Since I’m such a magnanimous—”

Eithne snorted, and tried to cover it up with a cough behind her hand.

“Oh, all right. Have it your way.” She raised an eyebrow at her indentured servant. “Since I’m in such a good
mood,
I’ll take what you said as a compliment.”

“Ha! I knew it. You wanted this all along so you can justify taking the human away from the Druid. I don’t think it’s a good idea. I said it before, and I’ll say it again. No good can come from breaking your father’s laws.”

Áine picked at the food on the tray. “Removing the mortal from the Druid is the only way I can be assured of victory. If she’s compliant, I’ll even make her stay a very pleasant one.”

“And your father?” Eithne’s eyes went wide.

“I can hide the human from him easily enough. I’ve managed to do so up until now.”

Eithne shook her head.

“Leave me now. Your cluck-cluck clucking is ruining my appetite.”

Sidney stared out her window as they approached the medieval castle. Silhouetted by the twilight it loomed before her, complete with turrets and a ditch moat. “My God, you really do live in a castle, a castle with its own landing strip and hangar. Talk about juxtaposition.”

Their vehicle crossed a stone arch bridge with a gatehouse on one side and drove around the circular driveway, stopping in front of the castle’s grand double doors. The second SUV carrying the rest of the men pulled up behind them.

Dermot got out and came to help her, holding her cane until she stood on the ground. “Come, let’s get you inside. The men will be waiting to meet you.”

Sidney’s head throbbed and she was exhausted. She didn’t feel up to facing a group of strange men. After the jet had almost gone down in the ocean, she hadn’t been able to sleep for the remainder of their flight.

The cold wind sent her huddling deeper into her parka. Stark, rugged landscape surrounded the imposing castle. For a moment she lost herself in images of Dermot clad in a kilt with a broad sword hanging down his back. He belonged here. She didn’t.

The crunch of gravel from the other SUV approaching brought her back to the present. She glanced at the men as they got out of the vehicle. “How many men are there, Dermot?”

“Eight, besides myself and the four you’ve already met.”

“Thirteen, and all of you are…”

“All of us are immortal.” Thomas came up beside her. “Welcome to our humble abode, Sidney.”

Dermot placed his hand on her shoulder to hold her back as Thomas and Donald went on ahead. “You’ve no need to be nervous, lass. Everyone is grateful you’re here. You’ll also meet Mrs. Haldane, our housekeeper. If there’s anything you need, or if you have any requests for the kitchen staff, she’s the one to talk to.”

She stared at him. “Kitchen staff? How many people do you employ?” She surveyed the extensive grounds surrounding the castle.

“We have groundskeepers, cleaning and kitchen staff. Mr. and Mrs. Haldane, trainers and grooms for the horses, farmers and sheepherders. I can’t really say how many we employ at present. I’d have to sit down and count them.”

“Do they all know?”

“Only the most trusted members of our clan who work close to us know. The rest are from the village of Gairloch. Mrs. Haldane is a MacKay by birth and distantly related to me and Thomas. Her ancestors have served us in one capacity or another since the curse began. There are families like hers who maintain our properties and businesses all over the world.” He shrugged. “They’re well compensated.”

The thought of owning so much seemed outrageous. Her store, and maybe a house someday was more than enough for her. “Do you plan to keep all of it once the curse is lifted? You won’t need to move around so much anymore.”

Niall frowned as he joined them. His arms were full of luggage. “You haven’t told her—”

“No’ now, Niall,” Dermot replied tersely.

“What haven’t you told me?” She glanced at Niall to find him staring at her with a pensive expression that made her uneasy.

He hustled her up the stairs and into the castle without answering, and she let it go for the time being. Her surroundings claimed all of her attention. She stood on a starburst pattern of inlaid marble under a huge crystal chandelier. A double staircase of marble with elaborate millwork banisters topped with mahogany flanked both sides of the large foyer. The remaining eight men stared down at her from the gallery at the top. Sidney’s heart raced, and her palms started to sweat.

“It’s all right,” Dermot whispered as he helped her out of her coat.

“We’re home.” Thomas put his arm around her shoulders and presented her to the men. “Guess who this is?”

She found herself surrounded by Dermot’s men, all introducing themselves at once. They thanked her profusely for coming while reaching for her hands and calling her
milady.

“I thought she’d be a babe,” one of them muttered under his breath.

Thomas laughed. “She is a babe.” He winked at her. “Just not a bairn.”

“Oy, give the lass some breathing room,” a feminine voice commanded.

The men parted to reveal a middle-aged woman with sparkling blue eyes. She bore a striking resemblance to Thomas as she smiled and introduced herself as the housekeeper. “Welcome home. Everything is arranged as you requested. Our guest’s suite of rooms is ready, and I’ve had her bag brought up.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Haldane,” Dermot said.

Sidney looked at Dermot. “Rooms? I get more than one?” Her shabby duffel bag amidst all this opulence embarrassed her. She should’ve taken the time to retrieve her luggage before they’d left.

“Aye, you have a suite.” Dermot extricated her from his men and put his arm around her. “Would you like a tour of the castle first, or would you prefer to get settled in and relax a bit before dinner?”

Dermot’s men looked at her as if they knew her, and she alone held their fate in her hands. Unnerved, she moved a bit closer to Dermot’s side. “I’d really like to get settled first. I could use a nap. What time would it be in Minnesota now?”

Dermot glanced at his watch. “It’s 5:00 p.m. here, lass. It’s best if you start going by our time right away. It’s easier to get over jet lag that way.”

“Dinner is served at 7:00,” Mrs. Haldane said. “Shall I show Ms. St. George to her rooms?”

“Nay, I’ll take her.” Dermot moved his hand to the small of Sidney’s back. “Tomorrow morning we’ll have the grand tour right after breakfast.”

“Ah, begging your pardon, Laird.” One of the men stepped forward and bowed to Sidney. “I’m Duncan, milady.” He turned toward Dermot. “I’ve taken the liberty of arranging a meeting with the solicitors first thing tomorrow morning. There are things we need to discuss, signatures and such, things you’ll want to attend to before—”

“Thank you, Duncan.” Dermot cut him off.

She watched a wordless look pass amongst the men as if they communicated telepathically. Very odd. What did the look mean? Her nerves frayed, she glanced at Dermot, hoping he’d get the message and take her to her rooms.

“We’ll take our tour in the afternoon, then. Come, Sidney.”

Grateful, Sidney allowed him to help her up the stairs and down a long corridor. “How old is this place, anyway?”

“The original castle was built by the Sutherlands in the thirteenth century. We gained possession in the fifteenth, and I’ve held it ever since. I’ve put considerable effort into the upkeep, and we’ve modernized several times.” He stopped in front of a large oak door. “Here we are. You’re in one of the turret suites. I thought you might enjoy it.” He opened the door and gestured for her to precede him.

She walked into the room and her jaw dropped. Polished oak floors and wainscoting reflected the warm golden light from the cheery fire burning in a stone hearth. The room was round, with tall beveled windows and thick Persian rugs scattered here and there. “Oh, my God. This is really something.” A huge four-poster bed draped with burgundy velvet curtains took up most of the chamber. She turned to grin at him. “I feel like I’ve stepped back into the sixteenth century.”

“I’m glad you’re pleased. Come, there’s more.” He gestured to the arched entryway into another room set off from the turret.

Sidney was awed by her surroundings. The entryway led into a sitting room with a large flat-screen television, a suede couch and end tables. Dermot continued on, opening another door at the end of the room.

“There’s a private bath.” He moved to the side so she could enter.

Dermot’s nearness made her stomach flutter. He placed his hands on her shoulders and stood close behind her as she surveyed the luxurious granite tub and counter. The bathroom was almost as large as her bedroom at home.

“The closet and dressing room are through here.” He pointed to a set of French doors.

“I’ve seen enough. I’m feeling a little overwhelmed right now, and I’d really like to relax for a while. You, the curse, thirteen immortal men relying on me to end it, and now this castle. It’s a lot to absorb.”

“I understand. Come, have a seat by the fire. You should give that ankle a rest.”

“My ankle is fine.” The longing to be comforted in his arms chipped away at her resolve to keep her distance, and the effort made her head spin.

“I’ve taken the liberty of having a bottle of wine brought up. Would you care for a glass? It’s a Bordeaux from one of our vineyards in France.”

Of
course
the wine was from a vineyard he owned.
That’s it. I’ve fallen into some kind of romance novel
.
The whole scenario is far too bizarre to be real.
“A glass of wine would be very welcome, and sitting by the fire sounds great.”

The moment the words left her mouth, she remembered the huge bed taking up most of the room. Her pulse raced, and a surge of warmth spiraled through her. Now was not the time to get all hot and bothered just because the ambiance of the place practically screamed romance. She tried to muster her willpower. “Or…”

His eyes turned a darker shade of gray. “Aye, by the fire is perfect.”

“Dermot…”

He drew her into his arms, and his mouth covered hers in a tender kiss. She moaned with pleasure and melted into him, her words of protest forgotten. Being held by him was exactly what she needed. She opened her mouth, and his kiss deepened, sending desire pulsing through her veins.

“Let me share your bed tonight,” Dermot whispered into her ear. He ran his hands up and down her back. “Knowing you’re so close and not being with you is a torture too great to bear.”

“What about protecting me from you?” She forced herself to back out of his hold. “As I recall, you have nothing to offer.”

His expression grim, Dermot raked both hands through his hair. His gaze burned into hers. He said nothing, while the muscles in his jaw ticked away the seconds.

“I think it would be best if you left.” She was too exhausted and overwhelmed to deal with his ambivalence.

Dermot muttered in Gaelic, threw her a look of utter frustration and strode toward the door leading to the hall. “I’ll send someone to fetch you for dinner.”

She stared after him for a moment, and then went in search of the wine. Kissing him had been a mistake. They’d agreed to a truce, nothing more. Until he knew for certain what he wanted, she had to protect her heart. She found the wine and poured herself a glass. Letting out a long sigh, she headed toward the bathroom for a long, hot bath. Maybe it would help calm her tattered nerves.

Breakfast, like dinner the night before, had been an ordeal. Twelve men rose to standing when she entered the room, bowing and calling her
milady
—it all made her nervous and self-conscious. The wordless looks they shared whenever she brought up the curse had been disconcerting. On top of everything else, Dermot’s absence from both meals only added to her misery. No doubt he still pouted somewhere because she refused to fall into bed with him.

When he failed to come for her by late afternoon, Sidney decided to take a tour of the castle on her own. It was like having free access to an extraordinary private museum. Antique weaponry, suits of armor, Flemish tapestries and rare works of art hung on the walls. Priceless pieces of furniture from several eras graced formal sitting rooms. She even discovered a ballroom with inlaid parquet floors and a frescoed ceiling.

Still a bit jet-lagged, she headed for the dining hall in search of coffee. Lachlan sat at the table with a cup of tea and a newspaper.

He stood when she entered. “Sidney, can I help you find something?”

“Sit. I can’t tell you how weird it is that you all stand when you see me.” She raised an eyebrow. “And I wish you’d tell the rest of the men to stop calling me
milady.
”

He grinned. “It’s habit. Would you like a cup of tea? There’s a fresh pot on the sideboard.”

“I don’t suppose there’s coffee? I’d really love a cup.”

“Aye, in the urn. Help yourself, and there are biscuits, bread and cheese as well. Mrs. Haldane knows we have huge appetites, and she always keeps something for us on the sideboard. I see you’re without your cane today. I hope this means your ankle is on the mend.”

“It is, thanks. I’m managing with just the walking cast now.” She helped herself to coffee and cream. “Where is everybody?”

“Working. We all have quite a bit to attend to this week. We have businesses and investments all over the globe. One wing of the castle is set up with offices. Each of us has our own job, depending on our interests.”