The Presence. Heather Graham

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СКАЧАТЬ anxious to ask him back to take the throne. Charles proved to be a very entertaining king, and a truly interesting man. He might have dallied with dozens of mistresses, but he steadfastly refused to consider a divorce from his wife. So after him, his brother became king, and that was another disaster for history to record.”

      It’s … horrible!” Toni said.

      He smiled grimly. “From what I hear, you didn’t mind fleecing the public with such a horrible story.”

      “But it wasn’t true when I told it!” she protested.

      He waved a hand in the air impatiently. “Say you’re telling me the truth—”

      “Are you accusing me of lying?” she demanded indignantly. The anger was back in her eyes.

      “I don’t know you, do I?” he asked politely. “But even if you think you’re telling the truth, it’s quite possible that you heard the story somewhere else. Because you made it up to a tee.”

      She waved a hand in the air. “The land belonged to the MacNialls. And if there is anyone famous in Scottish history, it’s Robert the Bruce. Bruce. A very common name here!”

      “Aye, that’s true. But you went a step further.”

      “How?”

      He stared at her. She was either the finest actress in the world, or she really didn’t know.

      “MacNiall’s wife,” he said slowly, watching her every reaction.

      “You just said that history didn’t know about her!”

      “Aye, that’s true enough.”

      “Then …?”

      “Her name,” Bruce said softly. “Lady MacNiall. That would be fairly obvious!” she said disdainfully.

      “No, Toni. Her first name. Her given name. Annalise.”

      3

      Could anyone act so well, or even lie with such aplomb?

      “What?” Her eyes were saucers, and her color was as close to pure white as he had ever seen on a human being.

      “Annalise. Our famous—or infamous—Bruce MacNiall was indeed married to an Annalise.”

      She shook her head. “I swear to you, I had no idea! It has to be … chance. Coincidence. Okay, the most absurd coincidence imaginable, but … I honestly have never heard this story before. Stories like it, sure—your ancestor wasn’t the only man to meet such a fate.”

      He wondered if she was trying to convince him or herself.

      “Aye, that’s true enough,” he said. She was an audacious interloper in his home, he reminded himself. And yet … At this particular moment, he couldn’t add to her distress. She needed some color back. Hell, she could pass out on him at any moment. She could be such a little demon, as self-righteous as Cromwell himself. But right now, she was simply far too vulnerable, and that vulnerability was calling out to whatever noble and protective virtues he might possess.

      “Yes, it’s true!” she said, desperately clinging to his words. “I’ve been to Edinburgh. I’ve seen the tomb built for Montrose, who was a Cavalier and who sided with the king, finally meeting his end in such a manner. And there were others … but I had no idea there was really a MacNiall! Or,” she added, wincing, “an Annalise. Look!” She sat up straight, finding her backbone again, and stared at him with sudden hostility. “We did not come here to mock your precious history or your family. I am telling you, I did not know about your MacNiall or that he might have even existed!”

      “Well, he did,” he said flatly, and stared at the flames, anger filling him again. He loved this place. Granted, he hadn’t given it much attention lately. Though he’d always intended to do so, there was always something else that needed to be done first. And now, with everything that had been going on …

      “Don’t you understand?” she demanded. “There’s never been anything the least disrespectful in what we wanted to do. Every one of us came here and simply fell in love with the country. Unfortunately none of us is independently wealthy. Gina, however, is a marketing genius. She decided that she could take all of our talents and market them. That way, we could acquire a castle, work hard and give some of the magic to the public.”

      “Stupid idea,” he murmured hotly, looking at the fire again.

      “It’s not a stupid idea!” she protested. “You saw how the people came.”

      “The locals will never enjoy such a spectacle.”

      “Maybe not, but the shows aren’t intended for the locals. They will help the economy all around, don’t you see that? People who come to the castle for the history, the splendor or even the spectacle will spend money in other places. It will be good for local stores, for restaurants … for everyone around.”

      “I don’t agree,” he said, fighting the rise of his temper again.

      “Then you’re a fool.”

      “Oh, really?”

      “Indeed, a blind fool!” She turned toward him, no longer ashen, passion in her voice, fire in her eyes. “You saw those people when they left here! They were thrilled. And they loved Scotland. Don’t you want people to love your country?”

      “Not a mockery of it,” he told her.

      “I told you, we’re not mocking it!” She shook her head, growing aggravated. “Others give tours of the closes and graveyards in Edinburgh. People are fascinated. We like to think that we’ve come far from doing horrible things to one another, even under the pretext of law. We’re not saying that the Scots were especially brutal, we’re explaining that it was just a different time!”

      “Voyeurs!” he said roughly, waving a hand in the air. “And that’s Edinburgh. A big city. We’re talking about a small village here.”

      “It’s hard these days to buy a castle in the middle of town,” she said sarcastically.

      “Many people don’t want to be reminded of mayhem and murder,” he said.

      She let out a sigh of exasperation. “Don’t you ever do anything for fun?” she asked him. “Have you ever seen a movie? A play? Gone to the opera?”

      He looked at the fire again. “The point is, this is a small, remote village. It could be a dangerous place for tourists to wander.”

      “Dangerous!” she said dismissively.

      He felt tension welling in him.

      “There are forests, crags and bogs. Hillsides. Crannies and cairns. Places where the footing is treacherous at best,” he said. “Places that are remote, dark and, aye, believe me, dangerous.” His own argument sounded weak even to him.

       Maybe he was a fool for being so suspicious, wary … when he need not be. But the lasses were gone, were they not?

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