“Why not?”
“Because I believe with my whole heart that she was in love with him.”
“Then we need to look suspiciously at the MacGinnis men?”
“Whatever we need to do, we can do in the morning. Douse those lights. And come to bed.”
“Demanding, aren’t you?”
He shrugged. “For tonight, my love, I am the laird of the castle.”
Skylar sniffed, then gasped slightly as he suddenly leaped past her, dousing all the lights within the room, then crashing upon her to land on the bed. For the longest moment they laytogether, entangled in silence as his lips found hers in a deep, slow, sensual kiss.
Then there was the strangest sound. A rasping so faint Skylar thought she might have imagined it.
But then, in the shadows of the room, so close to her she could almost feel his heat, she heard a muttered, “Damnation.”
Skylar nearly shrieked aloud. Someone was in bed with them.
Then she heard her husband speak, his voice trembling. “David?”
“Hawk?”
Skylar had been about to scream. She leaped up instead, grasping a match and lighting it in the fire to set the candles aflame once again.
As the glow illuminated the room now, she realized that she wasn’t Lady Douglas.
David did live.
As tall as her husband, as dark, as broad in the shoulder, as trim in the hips. Dark hair touched by auburn where Hawk’s was black, his green eyes incredibly the same, his features equally handsome in their European planes and angles as Hawk’s were with their Indian heritage. The two men stared at one another, then embraced warmly, and the seconds ticked by.
At last, they parted. With no introduction, David Douglas turned to Skylar at last. “Dear God, I am sorry. I was most anxious to meet you, but I didn’t intend to crawl into bed on you.”
“Why on earth did you crawl into bed?” Hawk demanded.
David arched a brow. “Well, I?—”
“You were expecting someone else?” Skylar suggested.
“Naturally,” Hawk moaned, staring at his brother. “Shawna. So, she knows you’re alive.”
“She does.”
“My god, then…does she know what happened to you, where—David, where the hell have you been all this time?”
“Shawna knows only that I’m alive. She refuses to see that someone in her family intended to kill me and is trying to kill her now. And as to where I’ve been…” He glanced at Skylar. “It can be a long tale.”
“By God! Then the MacGinnises are guilty!” Hawk exploded. “And Father and I handed everything over to them?—”
“Hawk, wait. I don’t believe that the entire family is guilty of evil. Oh, they will protect one another—they are Highlanders. But though I’m sure the entire family was trying to protect Alistair from the possibility that I might bring charges against him for tampering with the books, I’m equally certain that they are not all so callous as to ignore an attempted murder.”
“Alistair! I should slit his throat!” Hawk said passionately.
“Wait, now, I’m not at all certain that Alistair was guilty of anything more than being young and careless. From what I’ve discovered since I’ve returned, Alistair appears to have become a fastidious, hardworking businessman. And one willing to risk his own life for others.”
“Then who is guilty?” Skylar asked softly.
“I don’t know, but I will find out the truth. It’s a long story, but I’ll make it as short as possible. I met Shawna at the stables that night because she wanted to talk. Someone knocked me out before the fire started, yet someone dragged me from it alive, allowing everyone to believe that I was dead. I was given the identity of a Glasgow murderer and sent off on a ship bound for Australia. When I first woke up aboard the ship carrying me to Australia, I fought to convince the ship’s master that I was David Douglas, but I was nearly killed for my efforts. I’m not sure it mattered who I was once I came aboard that ship. The man whose identity I had been given was supposed to have been hanged. The captain of the ship thought himself God’svengeance, I believe, while he sold men into virtual slavery in a manner that was not quite legal, making escape all the more difficult. I worked as a convict in Australia for more than four years before finally escaping with a friend, Dr. James McGregor, the little fellow I sent to America with my ring. We escaped with nothing and began working our way across the seas as sailors. In all that time, I’d never been able to convince anyone—other than Jamie McGregor—that I was David Douglas and not the murderer, Collum MacDonald.” David hesitated a minute. “It didn’t help matters that we had finally managed our escape because I killed the guard on duty, a vicious fellow determined on whipping another man to death on the rocks. I had to get out of Australia quickly, and I knew that I was going to have to come back to Scotland in person to prove who I was, yet it was a long journey, and my friend Jamie was not well. When I heard from some Scottish sailors we encountered that Father had died, I sent Jamie to you while I came here as quickly as possible, took up residence in the caves, and began to keep watch at Craig Rock.”