Heart of the Druid Laird (16 page)

“No, he didn’t tell me. Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“You speak Gaelic, right?”

He winked. “Like a native.”

“Can you tell me what a few words mean?” She took a seat across from him. “
Weesht,
and gly-kit bee-sum for instance.”

“Strictly speaking, that’s no’ Gaelic.” Lachlan laughed. “Are you certain you wish to know?”

She nodded.

“Dermot was telling you to be quiet.”

“Oh.” She frowned.

“Och, lass, you must have put him in a fine
fankle.
Did he use those words while you were at your summer home?”

“He did. What’s a
fankle?
That’s another word he used.”

“You gave him fits.” He grinned.

“What about mo ah num and mo cree? What do they mean?”

“Ah, that was Thomas wasn’t it, talking to Zoe?”

“No, Dermot used them.” She shrugged. “Why?”

Lachlan’s eyes widened for an instant. “
Mo anam
means ‘my soul,’ or ‘the very air I breathe.’
Mo cridhe
means ‘my heart.’ They’re terms of endearment.”

She blinked in surprise, and her cheeks grew hot. “Oh. Do you know where Dermot is? He said he’d give me a tour of the castle this afternoon, and I haven’t seen hide-nor-hair of him.”

“I expect he’s holed up in his stillroom.”

“Where’s that?”

“In the eastern turret on the second floor.” Lachlan pointed behind him with his thumb. “There’s a stairway beyond the dining hall. It leads to a back corridor that’ll take you right to his door.”

Sidney got up to study the stone stairs beyond the arched entry. “My God. These must be ancient.”

“They hark back to when this pile was originally built.” Lachlan watched her return to the table.

“Dermot told me the MacKays gained possession in the fifteenth century.”

“Aye, we laid siege. It was held then by the Sutherlands. They’re the clan that caused us to be cursed. Over the centuries we’ve taken all the land they once owned. We ruined them.” Smug satisfaction lit his face.

“Wow, the history you’ve all seen and lived through. It’s staggering.” She shook her head. “I don’t really know much about what happened, or why you were cursed. Would you tell me?”

“Dermot has no’ shared the story with you?” Lachlan’s brow furrowed.

“No. I read a little about the legend in a book. It didn’t mention a curse or immortality, only that your clan went on a rampage after his wife’s murder and were never defeated in battle. Dermot hasn’t said much other than I’m crucial to ending it.”

“Aye, that you are. I can tell you the tale.”

For the next hour, Sidney drank coffee and listened transfixed as Lachlan told her Dermot and Mairéad’s story. When he talked about Áine and the
Tuatha Dé Danann,
a niggling suspicion turned to certainty. She’d wondered about the faerie’s interest in all this, and now she knew. Her nightmare apparition and Mairéad’s mother were one and the same. “I think Áine has visited me.”

Lachlan’s expression turned to alarm. “When?”

“Just before all of you came to our store. I thought it was a dream, until she burned one of my sketches, and there was ash left behind on the floor.”

“Have you told Dermot?”

“No. I haven’t had the chance, and there’s no point now.” She shrugged. “I’m here.”

“All the same, I think you should tell him.”

“I will. Dermot told me he didn’t love Mairéad. He said the killing rampage following her murder was a message to other clans who might see the MacKays as weak. Is that true?”

Lachlan looked thoughtful. “As to Dermot’s feelings for his wife, they were hardly together long enough for him to know his own heart where she was concerned. She adored him, and perhaps that was part of the problem. Neither knew how to behave around the other. Mairéad was so ill at ease, she took on a persona she believed would please him. She never let him see who she really was.

“You must understand, lass. Dermot was raised in isolation amongst ascetics and warriors. He never knew a mother’s love, or a sister’s affection. He never played games with children his own age. Those early years shaped him. He had no idea how to get on with his wife.” He shrugged. “Even after more than sixteen hundred years with us, he still remains aloof.”

“It’s tragic. No wonder he seems so lonely.” Sidney placed her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her fists. “None of you are to blame for what happened. It’s not fair that all of you suffered the brunt of Áine’s rage and grief.”

“
Fair
is no’ a word oft associated with the
Tuatha Dé Danann.
” He studied the contents of his teacup. “They have their own code of ethics, and mortals are inconsequential to them. After all this time, Áine still harbors the grudge as if her loss has only just happened.” He looked into her eyes. “She lost one daughter. We’ve suffered nothing but loss since that day. Has Dermot told you what will occur once the curse is lifted?”

“He said we must return to the exact place of the murder, and that he doesn’t know what will happen once we’re there.” She smiled. “I told him he should go on a long vacation and learn to enjoy himself once it’s all over.” Rising from her place, Sidney noticed the intensity of Lachlan’s expression. “What is it, Lachlan? There’s something you haven’t told me, isn’t there?”

“You must ask Dermot.” He studied the table in front of him. “It’s no’ for me to say.”

“All right, I’ll go ask him now.”

“Um…I should warn you, lass. Dermot allows no one but himself to enter his stillroom.”

“It’s about time someone invaded his space then, isn’t it?” She grinned.

Dermot’s books failed to give him the pleasure and solace he sought. Placing the fourteenth-century tome facedown on his lap, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Images of Sidney filled his mind, and he smiled for the first time that day.

Someone knocked on his door, bringing him abruptly out of his reverie. Who would disturb him here? “Who is it?” he snapped. To his shock, the door swung open and Sidney stormed in with a scowl on her face. She shoved the door shut with a foot and faced him with her fists on her hips.

“I said who is it, no’ come in.” The sight of her made his chest ache. Private musings were one thing. Having her near was another. She represented everything he’d never have—love, family and happiness. It tore him apart inside.

“You stood me up. We were supposed to tour the castle, remember?”

“It’s been a trying day.”
In the event of my death…
How many times had he read that blasted phrase today? His right hand still cramped from all the legal documents he’d signed. How would Sidney react when she found out he’d left her the bulk of his fortune and properties?

She rolled her eyes at him, and nodded toward the book in his lap. “I can see you’re extremely taxed right now. What with reading—,” she reached for the book and paged through it, “—Latin?” Her eyebrows rose.

“No one is allowed in here.” He took the book from her hands and got up to place it back on the shelf. When he turned back, he found her gaping at the art hanging on his walls. She made her way around the room, coming to a halt in front of one in particular.

She gasped. “This…this looks an awful lot like a Van Gogh.” She pointed to the piece, an incredulous expression on her face. “It’s almost exactly like
The Langlois Bridge With Women Washing,
only with men fishing instead. The colors are so brilliant, the brush strokes…”

“It is a Van Gogh.
The Langlois Bridge With Men Fishing,
to be precise. Vincent lacked imagination when it came to naming his works of art.”

“You
knew
him?” Her eyes went wide.

He nodded. “I did.”

“No, it can’t be.” She shook her head. “I studied Van Gogh in college, and I’ve never seen this piece in any of the catalogs of his work.”

“That’s because none saw it but me. I bought the painting from him in Arles in the southeastern region of France in 1888. He was hungry and desperate, and I took pity.” He shrugged. “Vincent was waiting for funds from his brother. He was about to be evicted from his rooms at Place Lamartine, as I recall.”

“You can’t be serious. He never sold a single painting until after his death.”

“Didn’t he? Take the painting off the wall, and look at the back.” Dermot watched as she carefully lifted the piece from its hook and turned it over. The back held the receipt mounted under glass, written in French on vellum in his own hand, signed and dated by Van Gogh.

“I don’t believe it. Do you have any idea what it’s worth? This would send the art world reeling.” She turned to him with a look of awe. Sidney walked over to his favorite chair and plopped down with the painting in her lap. She placed her sprained ankle with the ridiculous plastic boot on his ottoman and acted as if she had every right to make herself at home in his sanctuary.

Warmth and contentment flowed through him, and he forgot the reasons why no one was allowed in his stillroom. Sidney’s presence, sharing the painting and the story with her, filled him with joy. “Keep it. It’s yours.” The startled look on her face was not the reaction he’d expected.

“What’s wrong, Dermot?”

“A simple thank you would suffice, lass.”

“The minute I walked into the room I could see how troubled you are. Tell me what’s bothering you.” Her eyes were filled with concern. “People don’t just give away priceless works of art like this.” She ran her finger over the frame. “You’re not planning to commit suicide, are you? They say people give away their prized possessions when they’re planning to off themselves.”

“Suicide?” He grunted. Perhaps ending the curse could be viewed as a form of suicide. “I’m immortal.”

“Oh, right.” Color rose to her cheeks. “I forget.”

A war waged inside him. He wanted to shirk his obligations and responsibilities. The longing to grab hold of his own dreams overwhelmed all sense of duty. Perhaps Thomas and he could find a way around the curse if they put their heads together. Maybe remaining immortal was worth it if it meant having Sidney beside him for the rest of her life. He couldn’t bear her intense scrutiny and walked over to his work table. “It’s no’ too late for a tour. Would you like to see the dungeon?”

“Changing the subject, MacKay? There’s something you haven’t told me. No one will tell me. What happens once the curse is lifted? I have a right to know.”

“Nothing is written in stone.” He pretended to put his herbs away. His heart beat against his ribcage as he considered what he was about to do. He’d never once allowed himself to become vulnerable with anyone, and here he was ready to put his heart on the line for Sidney. He meant to forsake every obligation he’d ever held and grab at this one chance at happiness. “Do you want me? Do you need me as much as I need you? The truth, lass. I must have the truth. Everything depends upon your answer.”

Even he could hear the desperation in his voice. Holding his breath, he waited with his back turned to her. He could face a battlefield overrun with his enemies, but he couldn’t face rejection—not from her.

“Yes. I want you,” she whispered. “I need you too.”

Dermot’s knees went weak, and a surge of adrenaline pulsed through his body. Sidney wanted him. She needed him. Nothing else mattered, not immortality, duty or obligation. He turned to find her regarding him with wide, solemn eyes. His mind worked frantically as he drew her into his arms. Remaining immortal to be with Sidney was one thing, but what about his men? Maybe there was a way to end the curse for them, while he and Thomas remained as they were. “I’ll find a way.”

“What do you mean you’ll find a way? What’s the obstacle?” She placed her hands on his chest and tilted her head back to look at him. Confusion clouded her face.

“This is no’ where I want to have this conversation, love. I want to get away from the castle and everyone in it. I’ll explain everything tomorrow.” He rested his forehead against hers. “I promised to take you sightseeing. We can leave first thing in the morning. Would you like that?”

“Yes, very much, but—”

“I’m asking for your trust.” He wanted things settled between the two of them before facing his men, and he didn’t want to risk discovery or a confrontation before then. He ran his hands up and down her back. “I’m sorry I neglected you today,
mo cridhe.
It will never happen again.”

“Ambivalence gone?” Her eyes reflected her vulnerability as she searched his face. Dermot’s heart broke for the uncertainty and hurt he’d caused her.

“Aye, it’s gone.” He tangled his fingers in her glorious hair, tilted her head and took possession of her sweet mouth. Desire ignited his blood. “Come with me.”

He hurried her down the hall toward his apartment. “Here.” He ushered her through his door and watched as she surveyed his chambers.

“This is incredible.” She skimmed a hand over the midnight-blue velvet draped around his bed.

“Look at it later.”

Her seductive smile was his undoing. He swept her up and deposited her in the middle of his bed. Her laughter resonated through his heart, and he found himself smiling back. Covering her with his body, he propped his weight on his elbows and looked down at her with mock sternness. “What do you find so amusing, woman?”

“Your impatience.” She traced his jaw with a finger. “Why are you looking so fierce?”

“My impatience.” He undid one button of her blouse, then another, kissing every inch of her delectable skin as it was revealed. “Och, Sidney. You’ve no idea what you do to me.” His eyes met and held hers.

“Tell me.”

Her breathless command sent fire coursing through his veins. “I’d rather show you.” Dermot unwrapped her slowly, lavishing each part of her body with loving attention before moving on to the next bit of clothing.

“You’re driving me insane. Off, I want your clothes off.” Sidney tugged and pulled at his sweater, then his belt. “Now.”

Capturing her hands, he stopped her, chuckling at her disgruntled expression. “Now who’s impatient?”

“Me,” she huffed. “Take them off.”

Her command made him want to laugh out loud. “Are you telling me what to do, woman? I’m laird over this castle and everyone in it and an earl, as well.” He arched a brow and gave her his most arrogant look. “No one tells me what to do.”

“Until now.” Sidney pulled his sweater up over his shoulders. “Get used to it, MacKay.” She managed to unbuckle his belt and unzip his fly.

He did laugh then. She looked so determined and serious as she concentrated on disrobing him, he couldn’t help it. Putting his arms around her, he rolled so that she was on top. “I surrender. Undress me,
leannan.
Command me as you will.”

“Finally.” She sighed. “Help me get these off.”

He obliged her, and removed the rest of her clothing, as well. She straddled him, her hair falling around her shoulders, and her magnificent breasts begging for his touch. “You are so beautiful,
mo anam.
” Sliding his hands up her waist to her breasts, he caressed them with both hands until her nipples hardened into delectable buds.

Dermot lost himself in her beauty. Wonder and awe illuminated every corner of his heart, branding his soul forever with her image. He would always feel this way about her. More than passion, greater than lust, Sidney had been fashioned for him, as he was for her. She had captured his heart, and he’d tell her so…tomorrow, far away from this castle, his men and any reminders of the curse.

Sidney leaned back and gazed at Dermot. His eyes had that sexy, half-closed look, and his breathing grew rapid. “Mine to command?” she teased.

“Aye, if that’s what you wish.”

“It is. You’ve had a very trying day, haven’t you?”

He nodded and ran his hands along her thighs and around her hips to cup her bottom.

She leaned down, pressing her breasts against his chest. Tangling her fingers in his hair, she took his earlobe between her teeth. He sucked in his breath.

“How can I comfort you?” she whispered and ran her tongue around the inside of his ear. His body jerked beneath her. Sidney slid down his torso to circle one of his hardened nipples with her tongue. His hips moved restlessly beneath her. His response heightened her own desire. She found she liked calling the shots. Moving to his other nipple with her mouth, she reached down to stroke him.

Every muscle in his body tightened, and he groaned with pleasure. “Ah, Sidney…”

Working her way down his incredible body, she trailed kisses and licks, her nails grazing lightly over his bare skin. Every moan, each twitching muscle egged her on. Running her tongue up his length, Sidney savored the shudder. She took him into her mouth. Dermot’s hips lifted off the bed. He growled his pleasure and tangled his fingers into her hair.

Dermot went rigid beneath her, watching with hooded eyes as she made love to him with her mouth. The intensity of his gaze turned her insides to liquid heat. Never had she experienced anything so erotic. He was very close to losing control.

With a shout, he snatched her up and flipped her on her back, covering her body with his. He nudged her thighs apart and raised himself above her, staring into her eyes as he thrust inside her. The fiercely possessive expression on his face took her breath.

“There’s no going back, Sidney. You’re mine.”

Once they’d moved her things to his rooms, they made love again, showered and shared a supper by the hearth. Dermot couldn’t remember ever feeling the way he felt right now. Sidney lay beside him in his bed. Her warmth, softness and honey scent saturated him with indescribable joy.

Drawing her close, he tucked her back against his chest and stretched one leg over hers, waiting with a smile he knew she couldn’t see. She started to wiggle away. Tightening his hold, Dermot grunted.

“I have to use the bathroom.” She disentangled herself and turned on the bedside lamp.

“Do no’ think to put any clothing on,” he commanded gruffly. “I prefer to sleep in the nude.”

“Sleep however you want. I’m more comfortable with clothes
on.
”

“Aye, so you’ve said. I prefer them
off.
”

“Another thing,” she added as she crossed the room. “I like my own space when I sleep. You give off way too much body heat, and the hair on your chest and legs tickles.”

He tucked his arms behind his head and grinned. Gods, how he loved provoking her. She stood up to him, talked back, and he found it refreshing and exhilarating. Watching her walk naked across his bedroom gave him a deep sense of satisfaction. That and he grew hard with desire again. “All right. Put on whatever you wish.”

“As if I need your permission,” she called over her shoulder.

She came back to bed wearing an overlarge T-shirt and flannel boxers. She sighed, turned the lamp off and settled herself near the edge of the bed. “I’m exhausted. Probably still jet-lagged.”

“Aye, probably.” He drew her into his arms and ran his hands under her shirt and into the boxers. Her velvet warmth intoxicated him. He teased her body with caresses until she turned in his arms and sought his kiss. He slid the boxers off, fondling and stroking her until she moaned and writhed against him. The shirt came off next, and he tossed them both to the floor.

“You’re not going to let me wear anything are you?” she whispered against his mouth.

“Nay, but if you wish to put your clothes back on, I’ll no’ stop you.” He nuzzled her neck, taking her scent deep into his lungs. “It gives me great pleasure to remove them.” Dermot dove under the blankets, intent on his mission.

After she’d fallen apart in his arms, he tucked her up next to him and held her close with one arm around her waist and the other under her head. He threw a leg over hers, feigned sleep and waited. It didn’t take long before she tried to wiggle away again. He tightened his hold and captured both her legs between his. “Go to sleep, woman. I’m tired.”

“
You’re
tired, so
I
should go to sleep? That’s the most arrogant thing you’ve said to date.” She shoved him off and sat up.

The exasperation and irritation in her voice tickled him. He rolled over onto his back and laughed. She turned on the bedside lamp to glare at him, and it only made him laugh harder.

“Oh, my God. Do
not
tell me we’ve just discovered what makes you laugh.” She shot out of bed and retrieved her T-shirt and boxers. She pulled her clothes back on and glared at him. “Be warned, MacMud. Two can play that game.”

“I’m sorry, love. I promise I’ll leave you in peace.” He chuckled. “Come back to bed.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin. “You swear? Because I can always go back to my rooms in the turret if you don’t.”

“I swear.” He lifted the covers in invitation. Sidney crawled back into bed. He scooted over to the opposite side, true to his word. She turned the light off and sighed while settling herself. Dermot waited, smiling into the darkness.

Soon her breathing became deep and even. Still he waited, wanting to be certain she slept soundly. He slowly inched his way over to her. Slipping the baggy garments off her luscious body was child’s play. Dermot gently drew her into his arms and tucked himself around her. Only then could he give himself up to sleep, content to the very marrow in his bones.

Sidney stared out the window at the passing landscape. They had just left Gairloch Beach, the first stop on Dermot’s list of places to see. “Everything is exaggerated here, Dermot. Do you know what I mean? Gairloch Beach is not just a beach. That would be lovely, but ordinary. It’s a beach surrounded by craggy, rugged mountains.” She lifted her digital camera and viewed the pictures she’d taken. “What’s it like in the summer?”

“Like a beach surrounded by green, craggy, rugged mountains.” He grinned, and reached over to run a knuckle down her cheek. “It has no’ changed all that much in all the centuries I’ve lived. I can remember watching men fish from that very spot as a lad.”

Even that brief touch set her heart fluttering. Such a gorgeous man, and here he was with her. Where was the voice in her head saying
it’s not him?
Maybe, just maybe, this time the voice would say something different. “How did people survive in such a harsh environment back then? The Scottish Highlands are like giant country—beautiful but huge and forbidding.”

“Highlanders are a different breed. We thrive on challenge and hardship. It used to take an entire clan working together to survive the winter, and the strength of every warrior to keep safe what was ours.”

“It’s mind-boggling.” She shook her head. “Where are we headed now?”

“Down the coast a bit. Strome Castle ruins on Loch Carron offers an impressive view. I want to take some time while we’re there. I did promise to tell you everything. There are decisions to be made, and you have a say.” He reached for her hand.

“We have all day.” She twined her fingers in his and gave his hand a squeeze. “Do you realize this is the first time we’ve been out together just for fun? Can’t we just relax and enjoy ourselves? I’m not in the mood for curses or serious discussions.”

“Aye.” Dermot lifted her hand for a kiss, sending shivers through her. “We’ll talk over dinner. I’ve reserved a room for the night at an inn down the road from the ruins.”

They pulled off the main highway onto a gravel road winding down toward the coast. The ruins, only a few stone walls standing on the edge of a cliff, came into view. Beyond them, the sea loch sparkled as the sun broke free of the clouds for an instant. On the opposite shore, mountains stood like guardians at the entrance to the ocean beyond. While Dermot parked the car, she zipped up her parka and fished her gloves out of her pocket. “I see a path down to the ruins.”

“I remember when this castle was completed.” He gripped the steering wheel and stared out the windshield as if lost in the past. “The Earl of Ross had it built. He was a good man, a friend and an ally.”

For the first time, she glimpsed what it must be like for him to be immortal. How many friends had he lost over the centuries? The need to isolate himself to avoid detection must have been dreadful. Her heart ached for him. “Let’s hike down there.”

“Are you sure your ankle is up to it?”

“I’m sure. See?” She lifted her foot. “I’m wearing regular hiking boots now. Come on.” She got out and started toward the path. The sun hid behind a dark cloud, giving the ruins a gothic gloom. The car door shut behind her, and she turned back to look at Dermot. Her breath caught at the sight of him, and she couldn’t tear her gaze away.
It’s him,
the voice whispered in her head. She ran back up the hill and threw herself into his arms.

Dermot laughed as he caught her. “What’s this about, lass?”

“I’m just happy.” Sidney went up on her toes and kissed him. Smiling, she started back down the path.

“Do no’ get too close to the edge,” he told her. “It’s no’ safe.”

“You really are afraid of heights?” She grinned at him over her shoulder.

“I am.”

“That makes no sense.” She shook her head. “You’re immortal. What do you have to fear?”

“I’m immortal, aye, but not without physical sensation. Injuries hurt. Besides,
you
are no’ immortal. Stay well back from the edge.”