Draycott Eternal - Draycott Eternal Part 57
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Draycott Eternal Part 57

He fell.

Jamee turned away, her eyes squeezed shut.

His scream seemed to go on forever.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR.

DAWN HAD NOT COME, only its faint precursor, when Ian crouched beside Jamee and pulled her against him. "Did he touch you?" His hands were trembling. "If the bastard did, I"ll-"

"No, but he was close, so close all this time. He hated us, Ian. He said it should have beenhim instead of Adam who was adopted." She gave a broken sob and turned her face to Ian"s chest as the memory of her pursuer"s mad eyes flashed before her.

"It"s done,mo cridhe. He"ll never bother you again," Ian whispered. His hands clenched on her shoulder. "You"ll not escape me again, either. Blind or not, I"ll tie you up. I"ll use ropes of silk and leather if I have to." His breath was as ragged as hers was. "You"re going to marry me, Jamee Night. If you say no, I"ll hold you here, captive in my keep. Day by day and night after night I"ll hold you until you"re an old woman whose beautiful white hair slides through my fingers while I kiss you senseless."

"Is that a promise?" Jamee said breathlessly.

"Senseless. I"ll seduce you with no remorse. I"ll see that you"re pleading for release before I"m done."

"I should imagine that will take about five seconds, you execrable man," Jamee said. "Just like you did at dinner..."

Ian turned, his fingers trapping her face. "I never meant that, love. I never expected you would respond so...generously. You"ve been a fire in my blood since I first saw you. I don"t know which of us has been crazier. When I woke and thought I"d lost you-Thank God, Duncan and Adam arrived when they did." He kissed her then, hungry and desperate while his hands slid onto her shoulders.

A low, male voice coughed behind them.

"Go away, Night," Ian growled. He pulled Jamee closer, fingers buried in her hair.

Another cough followed.

"Dammit, Adam-"

A chuckle came out of the darkness behind them. The helicopter motors had shut down and darkness returned. Only the faint gold fingers of dawn touched the eastern sky.

"Go away. We can talk later. Then you can curse at me for falling in love with my client. Right now I"m going to sit here and kiss your sister until she loses every fragment of logic and agrees to become my wife, even if it means living six months of the year in this old wreck of a castle."

"Yes," Jamee said softly.

"And what if she says no?" Adam Night asked.

"I"ll reorganize the Glenlyle weaving cooperative and let her take charge of the hand-loomed tartans produced by ten villages."

"Yes," Jamee repeated.

"What if that doesn"t work?" Adam continued.

"Then I"ll have to threaten something truly terrible, like selling this castle which has stayed in McCall hands for seven centuries."

"Yes!"Jamee threw her body against him, bringing them both down onto the soft heather.

Ian blinked. "Yes? You"re agreeing, my lass?"

"Three times already, you great, stubborn Scotsman."

Ian closed his eyes as a shudder ran through him. "You"re certain?"

Jamee proved to him just how certain she was, pinning him to the damp earth beneath her determined body. "If you think you"re getting rid of me, you"re wrong. In fact, if you think you have even ahope of getting rid of me-"

He twisted, catching her beneath him as ragged laughter burst from his mouth. "No, not even a shred of hope. I"ve had none since I first saw you,mo cridhe, with your face more beautiful than a dream and your hair like a copper halo. I was afraid to hope." His eyes closed. "The truth is, I"d given up, Jamee. Your laughter brought me back my light."

High over the hills the first fingers of dawn touched the sky.

Jamee made a breathless sound and pushed to her feet. "I have to go. There"s one thing left to do." She caught up the bright length of wool hanging at the edge of the stone well. "I"ll be back in a moment."

Only at the edge of the cliff did she stop, wool in hand. Across the loch to the east, where the hills rose in steep waves, she saw the faint glow of dawn and offered up her gift. With it came the hope that had slumbered in her soul for centuries since her death on this very rock.

As Maire MacKinnon.

Jamee gave her words to the dawn and tossed the bright colors out before her. They spilled through the air, tumbling end over end in a blur of color. Fuchsia burned into orange and glowing purple until a network of light pulsed against the darkness, flaming outward until the whole horizon lay streaked with the colors that could almost have been stolen from her cloth.

Watching the sun rise, Jamee felt the rush of beating wings, the taste of joy and the presence of all the people she had loved and lost. Mother. Father. Her wonderful, eccentric brother Terence.

So close, suddenly.

The hillside seemed to stir and the air filled with birdsong. Jamee turned to Ian, who stood motionless, watching her in mute shock.

"Can you see it?"

He nodded, unable to speak.

Her hands trembled. "The colors, too?"

"Red. Orange. Gold and purple. Oh, God, Jamee, the colors-" His voice broke. He reached out, gripping her hand. "The colors are beautiful. I can see them so clearly."

She closed her eyes. Tears burned down her cheeks as dawn swept over the serried hills before them.

"How?" Ian whispered.

Jamee watched light fill the heather and thought of a woman who had lost her heart to her enemy"s son. Love like that could do many things-maybe even miracles. "Only because I love you, Ian McCall of Glenlyle. For now," she said, repeating the words of a vow that could not be forgotten. "For tomorrow. For all eternity. These are my three wishes."

EPILOGUE.

SNOW HISSEDover the glen and brushed the deep, leaded windows of Glenlyle"s library.

Inside the thick stone walls a fire snapped in the granite fireplace, splashing color over the vibrant tapestries on the wall nearby. Tiny bears decorated a huge blue spruce beside the full-length windows that overlooked the hills circling the loch.

"I"m certain I saw the book in here last night after dinner." The heavy oak door opened and the bears dipped and spun gently on their Christmas boughs. William Night charged into the room, frowning. His shirtsleeves were folded unevenly above his wrists and a dusting of powdered sugar touched one cheek, a remnant of the particularly fine tea he had just finished. "It was a first edition ofA Christmas Carol, I tell you."

"You"re imagining things again, William." Adam Night moved toward the fire and braced one arm on the warm stone. He smiled as the door opened again. "What did I tell you, Ian?"

"That I"d be regretting my marriage into your family inside of a week." Ian looked very dashing in a vintage kilt and a formal short black fitted jacket. His brow arched faintly as he looked down at his wife, lovely in green velvet with a scarf of creamy antique lace. "I think it may take a little longer than that to exhaust my patience, Adam. After all, without you and William I never would have met the charming, irritating and unforgettable master weaver who is now Lady Glenlyle, Countess of Lenox and Kincaid."

Jamee tucked a finger under his lapel. "How do you manage to say all that in one breath?"

"Practice, my dear. One has to do something to pass the time on these dark Highland nights."

Jamee leaned close, her long hair brushing his dress jacket. "I"ve got a better suggestion."

Ian"s head bowed.

Her face rose.

Their lips met gently.

"Sweet heaven, no more ofthat, " William protested.

His brother"s eyes gleamed. "It"s a thing newly married people do rather a lot of, William.

Better get used to it."

"At least the food is good here. That nice Widow Campbell sent over a tin of smoked salmon that passes description, and those thin fudge things your cook makes are lethal, McCall." He sank into a deep leather chair and pulled a paper napkin full of fudge from his pocket, grinning shamelessly. "Nice bears," he muttered, raising a fudge-streaked finger toward the Christmas tree. "I never knew they could have so many different faces and expressions." He tapped his jaw thoughtfully. "Say, McCall, have you ever thought of animating these bears of yours? I"ve been working on a prototype titanium skeleton worked by animatronics. State-of-the-art stuff.

It could be a very hot item next Christmas."

Ian brushed the tiny furred nose of a bear in a kilt and sporran. "I think the little fellows are fine just as they are, William. But Ihave been meaning to ask you about upgrading the wiring in my workshops. I"d like your opinion, too, Adam."

"I warned you not to let them get started on wiring. Now they"ll never finish," Jamee murmured.

The four were deep in conversation when the door opened again. The fire hissed and popped cheerfully as Duncan MacKinnon shrugged out of a snow-dusted parka and then took his wife"s snug sheepskin coat. "Wiring?" he announced. "What kind of talk is that for a freezing winter day?"

Ian chuckled and went to greet his friends. "I take it you"d prefer to discuss fine aged whiskey?"

"Do I really need to answer that?"

"Don"t listen to him," Kara said. "It"s lovely outside and not a bit unpleasant. Ours were the first tracks leading up here through the snow, and I almost felt as if we were heading back through time."

Jamee kissed Kara, then Duncan. "I know what you mean." She shot a look at Ian. "This place is almost frighteningly inspiring. If I finish anymore weavings, Ian won"t have any place to hang them."

Her husband smiled slowly. "Actually, that won"t be a problem. I found out earlier today that four have already been ordered for Balmoral."

"Balmoral?" Jamee blinked. "As in-"

"As in the royal residence. Unless you"d prefer not to sell, of course." His eyes twinkled. "You would have one very disappointed lady in that case."

"Of course I"ll sell them. Balmoral?" she repeated. "This isn"t a joke?"

"No more than this." Ian looked at the gathered company. He had walked head-on into a full-blown family, noisy and contentious, and he was enjoying every second of the experience.

Never in his lifetime had the castle rung with such laughter and genial quarreling.

Glenlyle"s ghosts seemed very far away as he held out a gaily wrapped box to Jamee. "I wanted to give this to you while everyone was here, since they were all involved in bringing about our happy ending." His eyes gleamed. "For you, my love."

"Ian, you shouldn"t have. I"m spoiled already."

"You"ll have one gift for all the twelve days of Christmas. It"s a new ritual here, I warn you."

Jamee pulled off the foil paper, then went very still. "Ian, do you realize what this is?"

"I believe so. Go ahead, take it out," he urged.

Very carefully Jamee removed a carved piece of wood hollowed in the center and pointed at one end. The shuttle was beautifully made, shaped to fit a woman"s hand. "Look at the detail,"

she said. "Whoever used this must have had tiny fingers." She cupped the smooth wood lovingly. "This looks as if it could be two hundred years old."

"Rather more than that, I suspect. I found it up in the attic last week."

Jamee held up the hand-carved tool. The fine grain of the wood was polished smooth by centuries of pressure against threads of rough wool. Just below the pointed end, three interlinking lines had been carved into the shuttle. Jamee touched them thoughtfully. "What are these?"

"Some kind of identifying marks of the weaver," Ian suggested.

"Or something else," Kara said softly. "May I?" When Jamee passed her the old tool, Kara"s fingers moved slowly over the surface. She stared at the tapestry on the far wall. "She made that very weaving with this." Her voice was low, jerky. "I can feel her sitting in a cottage.

There are pots of boiling dye and peat smoke in the air. She sang as she worked."

"Kara, I"m not sure you should be doing this," Duncan said. "I don"t want you taking any chances right now."

She went on as if he had not spoken. "The three marks represent the three prayers she worked into every cloth. Three unbroken lines that crossed over themselves, always connecting in the end. They were vows. Three vows." Her eyes dimmed and she swayed slightly. "For now. For tomorrow."

"And for all eternity," Jamee finished softly. "You saw her. It was Maire MacKinnon, wasn"t it? This washer shuttle."

Kara took a sudden, sharp breath and leaned against her husband. "Don"t fret, Duncan, I"m fine. And yes, this did belong to Maire. She was very much in love. Her small cottage held a lifetime of laughter and joy." She shook her head, pulling away from a world of shadowy visions, and then handed the shuttle back to Jamee. "Use it well. Her skill and joy go with it to you."

Silence filled the room, and with it came the sense of others pressing close. Unseen, unheard, their love still slid around the corners and tugged at the hearts of the friends and family gathered in Glenlyle"s warm library. It seemed that at any moment, the door might open again to admit a pair of lovers who had died centuries before.

When a log collapsed in the grate with an explosion of sparks, the mood was broken. Ian refilled Duncan"s glass, then sat down before the fire with Jamee close beside him. "Did you ever find that first edition of Dickens you were looking for, Duncan?"