Finally, however, she must have fallen asleep. She awoke to a scream so loud and high-pitched that it seemed to penetrate every nook and cranny of the huge castle.
“Sweet Jesus!” David gasped, bounding up.
He was still clad in his breeches, shirt, and stockings. He had only to pull on his boots. Shawna, leaping up as well, had a greater difficulty, seeking a gown and robe and slippers.
David was dressed and exiting the room. She eschewed the slippers and went tearing after him.
They raced down the stairs together, pausing at the landing to the great hall. As they stood there, Sloan Trelawny came silently behind them. Hawk, Skylar, and Sabrina nearly plowed into him.
Anne-Marie, her hand upon her heart, supported by Myer, stood before Gawain, Alistair, and Alaric at the hearth.
Anne-Marie spoke rapidly, gasping all the while, the words gushing from her lips. “I started bringing out the kegs with one of the lads…oh god! I say…by the Good Laird Jesus, I’ve never seen such a thing, never, in my days, so horrible…horrible…Oh god…it’s him…his corpse…the poor, dead corpse of David Douglas. Black and charred, laid out, laid out, oh god, it was there when I brought the basket, I didn’t realize…right on the Druid Stone, it was there—the corpse of David Douglas, laid out just like an ancient sacrifice.”
“The corpse was on the Druid Stone?” Gawain repeated in astonishment. “Now, Anne-Marie, perhaps it was just some dirt, a prank by the village boys?—”
“She’s probably telling the truth, Father,” Alistair said. “The corpse was stolen. Hawk and I found the coffin empty yesterday.”
“You what?” Gawain inquired. “You found that the crypt had been broken into—and no one mentioned it to me?”
“Hawk is a Douglas, Father,” Alistair reminded him.
“Aye, and we’ll not have a Douglas grave dishonored, not while we are caretakers here!” Gawain said indignantly. “We’ll have Master David reinterred immediately?—”
“That won’t be necessary,” David interrupted, walking across the landing to address Gawain.
Gawain, startled, looked over to David, and watched as he approached him.
“As I live and breathe!” Gawain exclaimed. “David Douglas.”
“Aye. And not dead yet,” David said.
“David!” Alaric said, gaping as he stared at the man who should have been a ghost.
“Aye, ’tis me. Back. We should, however, see to it that the corpse is removed from the Druid Stone. I’d not have the Night of the Moon Maiden ruined for everyone.”
A peculiar noise sounded.
It was a stuttering.
It was Anne-Marie.
David gently turned to her.
“’Tis most distressing that you should have found such a gruesome thing, Anne-Marie, and I’m sorry,” David said.
Anne-Marie, her eyes very wide, let out another scream.
This one was rather a tiny shriek.
Then she passed out cold, falling flat with such deadweight against her husband that she brought Myer crashing down to the floor beneath her.
Alistair and Alaric bent quickly to help the struggling Myer.
Gawain stared at David, blue eyes cold and fierce upon him.
“By God, indeed, it is you. David Douglas. Laird Douglas. Sir, you must take care—a ghost is far more frightening than a corpse.” His eyes remained hard upon David. What emotions he felt, he kept to himself. “David! Returned from the dead. Well. Welcome home, Laird Douglas. Welcome home.”
CHAPTER 23