Part 13 (2/2)
”I'll need supplies-”
She interrupted. ”Make a list. I can have them ready today.”
”Okay. So that means I can start tomorrow. Two weeks. Tops. Maybe less.”
”Tell me where to have them delivered and they'll be waiting for you.”
He scribbled out a supply list and his address on a piece of paper and handed it to her.
”This should get me started.” G.o.d knows he didn't want her to start crying again, but she needed to think this through. ”On the outside chance, and it is an outside chance, that this painting serves as a portal, what will you do if you get there and Darach is gone? If the portrait was destroyed, there's a good chance Darach could be dead. And I could very well be dead too. What will you do then?”
”First, I don't believe he's gone. He and I have such a strong connection, I know I would feel it if he was dead.” She seemed so sure, so confident, he wanted to believe it as well. ”But, if he is then I'll carry on theMacTavish legacy as best I can. This is the thing-my life here is over. I've felt dead inside since Darach left and I finally realized why. I was dead inside because I no longer have a life here. My life is with Darach.”
He'd yet to meet two people that belonged together more. ”I'll try my best for you, Kate.”
Her eyes held his. ”It has to work.”
He hoped for her sake it did.
”EVERYTHING IS RUNNINGaccording to plan. We're right where we should be according to my time line,” Darach said to Hamish at the end of yet another day. Each seemed to now run headlong into another.
”Aye. We will get through the winter and with the coming of spring, we should be on our way to a new life.” Hamish s.h.i.+fted from foot to foot, a sure sign he had a question he wanted to ask but was hesitant about doing so.
”What is it man? Speak up.” Darach knew his tone rang sharp but he was soul weary. His days were long but the empty nights were longer still.
Hamish gestured toward the empty spot on the wall. ”What happened to the portrait?”
”I broke it into pieces and I burned it.” It had been akin to gutting himself with his own dagger.
Hamish paled. ”But...now Katecannae come to you or you to her.”
He knew a grim satisfaction. ”Exactly.”
”But what if all was not as it should be?”
Was Hamish yet once again playing devil's advocate or did he know something? It mattered naught.
”Then 'tis time for it to be. Katie belongs in her world and I belong in mine. Ne'er the twain shall meet again.”
Hamish wrung his hands. ”I am not so sure you did the right thing. Not so sure at all.” ”You don't have to be. I am.” He was laird ofGlenagan and no one need second guess his decision, noteven Hamish. ”When you go down, send upCoira .”
”For what?” For the second time in as many seconds, Hamish questioned him.
”What do you think, man? She is a comely wench.”
Hamish looked horrified. ”You do not mean to tumble her?”
He ignored the sick feeling in his gut. ”Aye. I've said it before and I'll say it again. When it comes to a
tumble, one la.s.s is as good as another.” This pining for Katie was driving him mad. He'd thought destroying the painting would staunch the endless need for her that coursed through him like a burn tumbling swift and cold through the landscape of his heart. He'd pledged her his troth. Now, surely if he broke that vow it would release him from this ravening hunger, this need.
”You don't want to do this, Darach,” Hamish said.
”I think you forget yourself. Leave and send meCoira .”
Hamish left without saying another word, anger and disapproval marking his stride from the room.
Darach tried to put the images of Katie from his mind. Her standing before the fire in this room, her lying
on his bed, the wash of moonlight over her cheek, the sound of her laughter, the echo of her moan as she came beneath him. Her memories plagued him like demons, driving him mad. It mattered not that Hamish neither understood nor approved. Darach needed to banish those memories andCoira seemed just the way to do it.
Within a few minutes a knock sounded. He crossed the room and opened the door. A comely la.s.s with flaxen hair and a generous bosom stood on the other side. Her skin was not quite so fine as Katie's and her hair wasn't shorn short in the manner of Katie's, but in the shadows, away from the fire's light, she could pa.s.s for the other woman.
”Hamish sent me, my laird.”
The voice was definitely different. It definitely wasn't the sweet melody of Katie's voice. ”Aye, at my order. Enter,Coira .”
Coira'shusband, much older than she, had died last year.Coira , being a widow, was said to be up for a bit of sport.
”If you have a need my laird, I am here to serve you.” She boldly stepped forward and ran her hand down his chest. Her touch did nothing to warm him.
”Mayhap I've a need or two you could help me with,” he said, s.h.i.+fting her out of the firelight. She smelled of peat fire, which wasn't unpleasant, but it didn't tease his senses and arouse him the way Katie's scent did.
Coirasmiled and without further ado tugged her s.h.i.+ft over her head. She stood before him, all ripe curves beneath her thin chemise.
The devil curse him. He couldn't do this. What was he thinking? He could tumble every la.s.s from here to Glasgow and it would do nothing to erase Katie from his heart and his mind. 'Twould only blacken his soul.
”Put your clothes back on, la.s.s. 'Tis not that kind of need I have.” Better that she be a bit embarra.s.sed than have the whole clan think him daft, which was, at this point, a distinct possibility. ”I have a need of another s.h.i.+rt. I understand you are clever with a needle.”
Coiratugged her dress back on, her face flushed red. ”Aye. Forgive my boldness. I misunderstood.”
”Nay. 'Twas my original intent. But I find that my heart belongs to another and 'twould not be fair to any of us to put you in that position.”
Far from being angry,Coira beamed in near adoration. ”That is so romantic. You are a man of honor and I am honored you would think oftumblin ' me. She is a lucky la.s.s.”
That struck him as a bit of convoluted female logic. MayhapCoira , though comely, was simple of mind.
”Nay, I am a lucky man.”
He was two-hundred sixty-two years behind her and destined for a life of celibacy because his wife had ruined him for any other woman.
”TA DA.” HAMISH PULLEDthe cloth off and revealed the painting beneath it.
”Other than the fact that it isn't aged like the previous one and it's acrylics rather than oils, it looks the same to me,” Kate said. The same longing she'd always experienced, the same frisson of antic.i.p.ation, the same scent from Darach, all a.s.sailed her. She felt alive, gloriously happily alive once again. ”And it feels the same.”
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