The House on the Shore (36 page)

He backed away from the statue
,
being careful not to make any noise
,
and walked quickly across the lawn to the front of the house, re-entering the grand dr
awing room a few moments later.

At least he could ha
ndle things his way from now on, a
nd now was the perfect time to sh
ow the Laird just who was boss.

He went straight to the bar.

“A double malt.
And don’t forget the ice.”

“I’m sorry, but you’ve already had your quota,” said the barman.

“What are you
talking about man?
G
ive me that drink.”

“I can’t.
The Laird told all the staff you were to have no more than two glasses.”

“Well, the Laird’s not here, is he?
Now fill my damn glass before I come round there and ring your scrawny neck!”

“Yes
—
yes, sir.”
The barman paled, and quickly re-filled the glass.

Mac leaned against the bar and scanned the dance floor.
Morag McInnes was dancing with
Angus Murray
.
He caught her eye and she turned aw
ay quickly, but not before she
looked at him as if he’d slithered out from under a stone.
He laughed
and tossed down his drink.

He slammed his glass down on the bar.
“Fill it again, laddie.”

“But, sir, I’ll lose my job.”

“No you won’t.
I’m the factor here
,
and I give the orders.
Now, pass me the damn bottle and the ice.”

The barman did as he was told and pushed the ice bucket toward him, the ice pick still inside.
Mac stared at it, a plan forming in his mind.
He swirled his glass.
It might just work.
He tossed back his drink, poured another, and drank it.
He weaved his way across the floor towards the exit, pushing the dan
cers out of his way as he went.

Luke’s dark and brooding eyes followed Anna round the room as she danced with the tall man in Highland dress.
While his expression was unreadable, his emotions were beating the hell out of each other.
Deep inside his chest, the little green warrior was hard at work.
His fists clenched and unclenched as his temper flared.
He was about to cut in on Anna and her
Highlander
,
when
an elderly
woman, with an enormous feather
pinned in her hair,
stopped him.

“Now
,
there’s a bonny couple,” she nodded in Anna’s direction.
“I met my husband at the village
ceilidh
.
We were married exactly one year later.
I was eighteen and he was twenty-five, and we’ve never spent a night apart since.
It’s our fortieth anniversary next month.”

“Congratulations,” Luke said, and left her still talking about who-knew-what.
He skirted the edge of the ballroom until he found a better vantage point
.
He
stood with his hands in his pockets, observing the interchange between Anna and her partner.
She was smiling and laughing, and obviously enjoying herself.
His temper went from simmering to
red-hot
.
Suddenly
,
her expression and body language change
d
.
When she abruptly stopped dancing, he decided that was his cue to intervene.
He strode purposely across the room
,
reach
ing
them just as they step
ped
though the French windows onto the terrace.

“Anna, honey, are you all right?”
Luke gave her companion an icy stare.

“Yes,” she said, with a grateful smile.
“I was just saying to Alistair that I n
eeded to sit down and cool off.
I
t
’s rather hot in the ballroom.”

“In that case, allow
me
to escort you outside.”

Annoyed at the untimely intrusion, Alistair released his hold on Anna’s elb
ow and nodded at the other man.

“Are you going to introduce me to your friend, Anna?”

“Alistair, this is Luke Tallantyre from Cape Cod.
Luke is staying with me for a while.”

“How do you do?
Grant, Alistair Grant of Killilan.”
His distinguished features settled
into an expression of contempt.

“Nice to meet you.
Wonderful place you have, although the upkee
p must be hell on
the
wallet.”

“Not if the well is deep.
What brings you to Scotland, Mr
. Tallantyre,
b
usiness or pleasure?
Or something else?”

“Pleasure, Mr
.
Grant, pleasure.
Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’ll take Anna for some fresh air.”

“Of course
, d
on’t let me detain you.
It’s about time I resumed my duties as host.
I don’t want my tenants complaining.
This is, after all
,
for their ben
efit.”
He strode away stiffly.

Anna felt Alistair’s sharp eyes boring into her
.

“What a phony!
I say,
I say,
old chap
!
”
Luke mocked.
“Who does he think he is, the King of Scotland?”

“Unfortunately, Scotland doesn’t have a
monarch
, although many of us wish it did,” Anna replied coldly.
“Alistair happens to have the benefit of a very good education.”

“So do you, but you don’t talk like a jerk.
Anyway, what was that all about?”
He pulled her round to face him.
“Do you tw
o have a history or something?”

Anna closed her eyes, and wished with all her soul to be at home with the dogs.
“N
ot in the way you mean.
We’re old friends, that’s all.”

“
Friends
, eh?
You two look at lot closer than that.”

She let the comment go and rested her hand on his chest.
“Luke, what’s got into you?
I’ve told you.
Alistair is an old friend
, n
othing more, nothing less.
We’ve known each other since we were teenagers.
Besides, he
invited us here.
Did you expect me to be rude
to him?”

“No.
But I want to know why the
pompous ass was hassling you.”

She glared at him.
His tone infuriated her.
“
Y
ou
were
watching me?”

“Kind of unavoidable.
You two made a real spectacle of yourselves on the dance floor
, and afterwards.”

“
It was just a dance, something men and women do occasionally.
You’re
a stranger
in the village
.
You don’t understand the small community mentality
.
Y
ou can’t just stroll in here and
expect to
tell us how to behave.
”

“
Perhaps not.
I’m the
guy who makes love to you every night
.
Does that count for anything?
Ever think you might be stomping on my feelings?”

“
I wasn’t stomping on your feelings.
I was being polite
to our host
.
And if you must know,
Alistair
asked me out to dinner for old time’s sake.”

“Well, I hope you said no.”

Anna regarded him from under her eyelashes.
Why was he being so possessive?
Could he possibly be envious of her
old
friendship with Alistair?
Was th
ere a chance, a slender chance
that he saw their relationship as something more than a ca
su
al fling?
When she finally spoke her voice was soft, almost a whisper.

“
What do you take me for?
Of course I said no.
But w
ould it really m
atter to you, if I ha
d said yes?”

Luke pulled her into the shadows, crushing her to him.
His eyes never left hers for an instant, as his mouth took hers with a savage intensity.

“D
oes that answer your question?”

“No!” she wailed, bursting into tears.
She pushed him away
and turning on her heel, sprinted back towards the house.

T
he sound of singing floating over the crowded, hushed room brought her to an abrupt halt.
Morag’s pure, hauntingly beautiful soprano melted her frail composure.
She
closed her eyes
and tried
to shut out the pain, but the poignancy of the
Eriskay Love Lilt
sliced open her heart.
She fought back her tears as Morag sang the verse.

When I’m lonely dear white heart,

Black the night or wild the sea,

By love’s light my foot finds

The old pathway to thee.

Desperate to be on her own, Anna
wove
her way
through
the ballroom
into a long dark corridor.
Old portraits of long-dead Grants stared down at her
,
accusing her of abandoning their descendent so abruptly.
She tried not to look at the rows of eyes.
They almost seemed fixed on her.
A trick of the light?
The intent of the artist?

Artist.
Luke.

She didn’t want to think abou
t him now.
She had to get out.

After a couple of wrong turns
,
she eventua
lly arrived in the main hallway
and was
faced with a choice of four doors.
The first opened into a formal morning room, complete with lumpy-looking sofas and tired floral chintz curtains.
The second door she opened contained a chain-pull lavatory and small washbasin that looked as if they had been inst
alled when the house was built.

She pushed open the third door and was relieved to find a small cosy sitting room where a welcoming fire burned in the grate.
Settling back against the deep blue velvet sofa cushions, she forced herself to
relax
, breathing deeply until she was sure no more tears would fall.
She looked at her watch
;
it was barely ten o’clock and the
ceilidh
wouldn’t finish until well after midnight
.
S
omehow she had to find the strength to get t
hrough the rest of the evening.

The door creaked open.

Luke.

“Anna, we need to talk.”

“I
’m not sure I have anything to say to you right now.”

He squatted down in front of her and
took her hand in his.
“I owe you an apology.
I was way out of line.
These are your friends and I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”

She gave a choked, desperate laugh.
“And you think that flimsy apology makes it all right?”

“No
,
I don’t.
I hurt you, and I never intended that to happen.
Anna, look at me.”

She
swallowed hard, lifted her chin
and boldly met his gaze.

“I saw Grant’s hands on you and I got pissed.
He looked like he was going
to drag you off the dance floor
and with everything else that’s been happening to you, I was worried for your safety.
How could I know he was just an old friend?”

“You couldn’t, but this conversation isn’t just about your
behaviour.
”