Amazing, Gina said suddenly.
What? Toni demanded.
That he looks just like your MacNiallthe one in your phony family history. I mean its incredible that you could invent a man who existed down to the last de tail.
No, not to the last detail. The MacNiall I invented died centuries ago, Toni said bitterly.
Yeah, but apparently, there was one of those, too, Gina said.
Look, I dont believe it, either! Toni said.
Toni, Kevin said softly.
Yes?
We dont blame you just because you were the one who found it on the Internet and got us all going. We allevery one of usread the agreements.
She hesitated. They were staring at her sorrowfully. And despite the denial, she felt a certain amount of blame. Sure, theyd all wanted to do this, all been excited. But shed pushed it. Shed been the one to do the actual work. But what had there been to question?
She bit her lip, feeling a little resentful and a lot guilty. If this really was totally messed up, to herself, at least, she would be the fall guy.
Thanks, she said.
Get some rest. Well all get some rest. When were not so tired and surprised, well be much better at sucking up! Kevin said cheerfully.
Toni nodded, gave him a weak smile and departed.
In the great hall, she paused. They had been so happy here. This place had truly been a dream. And they had been like kids, so excited.
She hurried up the stairs to the upper landing. There were rooms on the third floor, as well, but the main chambers were here. Servants had once slept above. Her group had chosen rooms in the huge U that braced around the front entry to the main keep of the castle. Hers was to the far right and she had assumed that it had once been the masters chamber. It was large, with both arrow slits and a turret with a balcony that looked out over the countryside. After claiming the room she had discovered that it also had the most modern bath, and that the rug and draperies were the cleanest in the castle. Still, she remembered uneasily that her room also contained the huge wardrobe that had been locked tightsomething to explore at a later time.
As she walked to the room, she felt a growing wariness. She hesitated, her hand on the antique knob, then pushed the door open.
There was a naked man in her bedroom. Nearly naked, at any rate.
A fire was beginning to burn nicely in the hearth. The dampness was already receding. A reading light blazed softly near the huge wing-backed chair before the fire.
The chair was occupied. Bruce MacNiall was seated, already showered, his hair wet, smooth and inky-black, his form covered in nothing but a terry towel wrapped around his waist. He was reading, of all things, the New York Times.
Yes? he said, looking up but not setting the paper aside. Dont you knock in the States? Not when Im entering my own room.
Oh?
Ive been living in here, she informed him. But its not your own room, is it? he queried. So this was your room, she murmured. Is mine.
Suck up! They had all warned her. But she was tiredand aggravated.
If youre the one in the right, she reminded him, regretting her words at once.
I do assure you that I am, he said solemnly.
At this particular moment, I dont really have any legal proof that youre telling the truth, so Im not entirely convinced that it is your room, that you have the right to claim it from me, she said. Youll note my things at the dressing table. They do look like mine, unless you customarily wear womens perfume, mascara and lipstick.
He stared at her politely, and maybe a bit amazed.
My wardrobe, youll notice, he pointed out. Since youre ever so observant, Im sure you noted that when you came in and made yourself so thoroughly at home, you had no place to actually hang clothing since the wardrobe was locked.
He had won from the beginning and she knew it. She didnt know why she was still arguing. She loved this room, though, and she was settled into it.
Maybe she was just incapable of giving up a fight, or accepting the fact that they could have been taken, that their dreams had been dashed.
My suitcases, she said, pointing to the side of the bed.
He set the paper aside and rose suddenly. She prayed the towel wouldnt slip.
Would you like me to help you gather your things? he asked politely.
There was something about the man that irritated her to such an extent that she couldnt keep her mouth closedor prevent herself from behaving with sheer stupidity.
No. Id be happy to help you relocate, though. You really do have what it is the Americans say? Balls, he told her. She flushed.
Im not relocating, he said flatly. Unless you have the deed to this place right here and now, she said sweetly, neither am I.
He stared at her a long moment, and she found herself flushing.
Do you think I keep my important papers under a mattress or something? he queried. My documents are in a bank vault. He shrugged, then took his seat before the fire once again, retrieving his paper. If youre staying in here, do your best to keep quiet, will you? I have a hell of a headache coming on.
You are the headache! she murmured beneath her breath.
He had heard her. Once again, his eyes met hers. I believe that youre supposed to be sucking up to me, Miss Fraser. I am trying to be patient and understanding. Ive even offered a helping hand.
Sorry, she said swiftly, though she couldnt help adding a soft, I think!
But she had lost and she knew it. Now she just had to accept it. She entered the room, slamming the door behind her. After gathering up what she could hold of her toiletries, she headed back to the hall.
Next door down is the brides chamber for this room. Its very nice, he told her absently, studying his paper again.
Ive seen it. I got down on my hands and knees and scrubbed in therejust as I did in here.
Yes, very nice, actually, he told her. Good job. As I said before, I can help you move your things.
Wouldnt want you to have to get dressed, she said.
I dont have to get dressed, actually. Just go through the bathroom.
These two rooms share that bath? she murmured.
She felt like an idiot. She knew that. Shed also cleaned the bathroom!
This is a castle, with some modernizationnot the Hilton, he said. Most of the rooms share a bath. Since youve been living here, surely you know that.
She only knew at that moment that she wished she had chosen a room on the other side of the U.
He rose and grabbed one of her suitcases. Through here, he said, walking down the little hallway to the bath, and through it.
The next room was one of the nicer ones, not as large as the one she had vacated, but there was a fireplace, naturallyit was a castle, not the Hiltonand a wonderful curving draped window. Widows walk out there, he pointed out. Youll love it, Im sure.
Naturally, Ive seen it, she snapped.
Right. You cleaned that, too.
Yes, we did.
Yes, we did.
Lovely.
He deposited her suitcase on the floor.
It was fine, it was lovely. But it attached to his room. How did she know that the man wasnt weird? What if, in the middle of the night, he came through the connecting doorway? No, there were other vacant rooms. She should choose one of them.
He must have read her mind, for a small smile of grim amusementand a touch of disdainsuddenly played upon his features. Rest assured, you can lock your side of the bathroom door.
I should hope so, she murmured.
Really? Seems Im the one who should be concerned about locking doors. Have no fear, Miss Fraser. Theres really not a great deal for you to worry about. From me, at any rate.
His look assured her that he found her less appealing than a cobra. For some reason, that was disconcerting.
Because the bastard looked good in a towel? she mocked herself. More than that, he had assurance and self-confidence. Sharp, intelligent eyes, well-sculpted, masculine, handsome features. And his other assets were well sculpted, too.
Ill keep my door locked, too, he assured her.
You do that, she said sweetly.
He turned and walked back through the connecting bath. The towel, amazingly, remained just as it had been tied.
Toni shut the door in his wake. She leaned against it, wondering how such a brilliant night could have possibly ended in such disaster. And how she had not only invented a historical figure who had actually existed, but one with a seriously formidable, modern-day descendant who was here, in the livingnear nakedflesh?
Fear trickled down her spine, but she ignored it. It was very late now, and she was determined to get organized and get some sleep. And that was that.
She looked around, trying to forget the man on the other side of the door and keep herself from being cowed by him in any way. Surveying her surroundings, she decided it was more than just a fine room. Really. It was a better room.
She moved away from the door, telling herself that she liked it just fine, that she was going to move right ineven if it did prove to be just for the next few nights.
So determined, she went about arranging her toiletries
and unpacking some of her belongings. But despite her resolve to settle in and get some sleep, she was restless and disturbed. First, this really was one total mess. She couldnt believe that they had been taken by some kind of a shyster. But worse, it bothered her that his family history, which she thought shed made up, had turned out to be true.
Finished with hanging a number of her garments, she gathered up her toothbrush, toothpaste and flannel nightgown and headed for the bathroom. She hesitated at the door, then decided that for whatever length of time shed still be in the castle, she had to take showers. She gritted her teeth, knocked tentatively and heard nothing. She went in. The shower-tub combination was to her left, and a large vanity with double sinks to her right. The last time anyone had redone the bathroom had been many years ago, but it was still decent with artistic little bird faucets and a commode and bath and shower wall that had surely been state-of-the-art at the time.
The doors to the masters chamber and the brides room were directly opposite one another. She stared at the door to the other room for several seconds, then walked over to it and tapped on it.
Yes?
She opened the door and peeked in. He was still in his towel, deeply engrossed in the paper, and he had a fire going. The entire room seemed much warmer than hers.
A little resentment filled her until she remembered that there was a fireplace in her new room. She could build her own fire.
I was going to use the shower. I just wanted to make
sure that you didnt need it. And that you dont intend to barge into the bathroom.
She had a sudden, absurd image of him riding the great black stallion into the tiny bathroom.
He arched an ebony brow. My apparel would seem to show that Ive already bathed, he said.
Right. Well, Ill unlock the door from this side when Im done.
Yes, please do, he said, and looked back at the newspaper.
She couldnt resist. The Times, huh? You apparently like American newspapers better than American people.
I usually like Americans very much, he said. There was the slightest accent on the second word he spoke.
She closed the connecting door and locked it, swearing beneath her breath. The situation was bad enough. If there had to be a living MacNiall, why couldnt he have been eighty, white haired and kind!
Fighting her irritation, she stripped and stepped into the shower. The hot water didnt last very long; she was probably the last one getting to it that night.
Still swearing beneath her breath, she stepped out, towel-dried quickly and slipped into a flannel gown. In her room, she debated the idea of attempting a fire. Shed had one herself in the other room, but David and Kevin had built it for her. Despite her Chicago homeland, shed never built a fire.
Using the long matches from the mantel, she tried lighting the logs in the hearth. But nothing happened. Some kind of kindling was needed. Perhaps a piece of newspaper or something. Looking around the room, she saw nothing to use.
Lightning suddenly flared beyond the gauzy drapes that covered the door to the widows walk. It was an actual balcony, she thought, not a little turret area, as was found in the masters chambers.
Immediately after, thunder cracked. The wooden door that led outward to the old stone area swung in with a loud bang as the wind blew it open with a vengeance. She hopped up and hurried over to the door. It was a nasty night, not the kind she had imagined here!
She closed the door with an effort and bolted it. Staring through the slender openings of the arrow slits, she saw another flash of lightning. She should count her blessings that they hadnt been thrown out that night.
She gave up on the fire and curled into the canopied bed, then hopped up again. The only light switch for the room was apparently right next to the bathroom.
With it out, she was plunged into a darkness so deep it was unnerving. Shaking her head, she opened the bathroom door, turned the light on, hesitated, then left the door on her side of the room ajarshe would have killed herself trying to get into bed in the pure ink that had filled the room.
Was she being an idiot? No, this fellow truly had no interest in her. Maybe she should be insulted, she thought wryly. At five-nine, with deep blue eyes and light hair that had deepened over the years to a dark blond, she was usually considered to be attractive. But apparently not to the ogre in the next room.
Bruce MacNiall. She must have heard the name somewhere.
Lying in the great bed, she shivered as she hadnt shivered in years.
No! It was not some kind of precognition coming
back to her. She had stopped all that years ago, closed her mind, because she had willed that it would be so! Still
She tossed and turned, wishing that there was a television in the room. Or a fire. Watching the flames would have been nice.
Her mind kept racing, denying that this could be happening when they had tried so hard to do things right. There had to be a mistake. There had to be something to do!