Shattered Rainbows (35 page)

Catherine's heart almost stopped when Haldoran thrust his saber toward Michael's chest. Before she could cry out, Michael had parried the other man's blade.

"Are you mad, Clive?" she cried. "It's insane to fence with unprotected blades."

"Nonsense." Her cousin struck again. There was a piercing metallic shriek as sword slid along sword. "This is merely sport. No injury will be done. Will it, Captain?"

"As harmless as playing charades," Michael said with ironic humor. He blocked another blow. "What sportsman could resist?"

"Glad you agree." Clive punctuated his words with teasing jabs to test his opponent's skill. "But the finest sport is hunting in the Shires. Have you ever done that?"

"I've never had that privilege, but good hunting can be found elsewhere." Michael gracelessly warded off the other man's saber. "I've had splendid runs in Spain with local greyhounds."

"That sounds rustic but amusing." Haldoran advanced and there was a noisy clash of blow and counterblow. Conversation flagged, replaced by harsh breathing as they fought up and down the center of the gallery. Clive was a first-rate swordsman, quick to take advantage of any weakness. Michael was slower, his moves almost awkward by comparison.

Catherine watched in suffocated silence. Though her cousin claimed this was sport, if Michael failed to defend himself well enough he might end up seriously wounded, or worse. It took time to recognize that he was deliberately holding back. His offensive blows might be ineffective, yet somehow his sword was always positioned to protect him from his opponent's blade. Though he retreated again and again, he was never cornered. It was a performance of consummate skill. Only someone who knew him well would guess what he was doing.

The fight ended when Haldoran suddenly broke through his opponent's guard. Catherine gasped when she saw the blade stabbing for Michael's throat At the last possible instant, Michael jerked his saber up to ward off the blow. Clive's blade bounced and skidded downward. The tip grazed the side of Michael's wrist, leaving a trail of scarlet.

"My dear fellow, I'm so sorry." Haldoran stepped back, the point of his sword dropping. "I didn't mean to draw blood, but in the pleasure of engaging a worthy opponent, I forgot myself." His apology was belied by the triumph in his eyes.

"No harm done. It's a mere scratch." Michael set his saber on a cabinet and pulled out his handkerchief.

Heart pounding, Catherine swept across the gallery and inspected the damage. Luckily, it was as minor as Michael claimed. She bound his handkerchief around the shallow cut. When she had finished, she gave Haldoran a furious glance. "You have appalling ideas of sport, cousin."

"It won't happen again," he promised. "Next time, we can use the blunted foils. But it was a rare treat to cross swords with a skilled fighter. Once again you were unduly modest about your ability, Captain."

"I've merely learned to do what needs to be done." Michael tugged his sleeve over his bandaged wrist. "Thank you for an entertaining visit, Haldoran,"

"The pleasure was mine. Society on the island is often rather flat." Clive sighed with what seemed to be genuine regret. "Unfortunately, tomorrow I'm going to London for a few days. I hope you're still here when I return."

"Do hurry back," Catherine said with a bright, false smile. The longer he stayed away, the happier she would be.

They collected their horses and set off along the track toward Great Skoal. She held her tongue until they were walking their horses across the Neck. Then she said icily, "Why the devil did you allow that to happen?"

"Allow? One doesn't have a choice when attacked by a man with a saber."

She gave him an exasperated glance. "You could have ended it sooner. You're a better swordsman than Haldoran, but you pretended otherwise."

"You guessed that? I'm not as good an actor as I thought." Michael's mouth curved in a humorless smile. "Your cousin is skilled with weapons, but he is an amateur, not a professional. Unfortunately, he does not like to lose. After I made the mistake of outshooting him, he was bound and determined to prove he could best me at something. The sooner I let him win, the sooner we could go."

"Letting him preserve his pride could have resulted in you being badly injured," she snapped.

His brows rose. "I think this is the first time I've seen you angry. I didn't know saints could lose their tempers."

"I never claimed to be a saint, and I have no patience with a man who blithely allows himself to be used as a pincushion."

"There was no danger of that." He gave her a slow, intimate smile. "You're being unreasonable. I rather like it."

The tenderness in his eyes disarmed her temper. He was right; she was overreacting to the incident. If she wasn't careful, she might realize how deeply her feelings were engaged.

She released her breath in a slow exhalation. "I couldn't bear it if you were hurt while helping me. I feel guilty enough about enlisting you in this mad scheme of mine."

"Don't waste your time on guilt," Michael said with a hint of bitterness. "It doesn't accomplish a damned thing."

They had reached the end of the causeway. He linked his hands together to help her into her saddle.

When she was back on her horse, Catherine said gravely, "Be careful around Haldoran. He's a strange man. I must be grateful for the way he helped us in Brussels, but I can't like him."

"I'm not fond of him myself. I've met similar would-be heroes in the army. They rarely lasted long." Michael mounted his horse. "You needn't worry that your cousin will provoke me into a fight. There's no one like an old soldier when it comes to avoiding unnecessary battles."

She smiled, her fears allayed.

Unfortunately, his own were not. During that impromptu duel, he had sensed that Haldoran would not have minded causing a lethal "accident." But why would the other man want to kill?

It could be from sheer bloody-mindedness, of which Haldoran had more than his share. But there might be another motive. Michael had noticed a hungry possessiveness in Clive's eyes when he gazed at his beautiful cousin. Could desire have created a secret wish to see Catherine's alleged husband dead? Perhaps.

One thing was sure: Haldoran should be watched carefully.

When Catherine and Michael went into the castle, they came across the butler with a tea tray. Guessing it was for her grandfather, Catherine said, "Olson, may I visit the laird now?"

"I shall inquire," the butler said grandly.

After he left, Michael said, "Shall I go with you, or should I leave you to the lions while I take a bath before dinner?"

She considered. "It might be better if I go alone. I suspect that an old rooster like my grandfather feels the need to crow and proclaim himself king of the hill if there's another male around."

"A trait that runs in Penrose men."

"I've never seen you do that kind of posturing."

He gave her a wicked smile. "I don't have to."

She laughed, but after he left, she realized it was not really a joke. Michael had the quiet confidence that didn't need to prove anything to anyone.

Or did he? Remembering how he had looked when telling her of his father's recent death, she realized that his confidence lay in physical skills, at which he was a master. In the murkier areas of the emotions, he was less sure. She found the knowledge that he was vulnerable oddly endearing.

Soon Olson returned. "His lordship will see you, ma'am."

She followed him through the house to a sitting room that adjoined the laird's bedchamber. The butler gestured toward the French doors. Through the gauzy curtains, the outline of a wheelchair was visible. "His lordship is outside."

She stepped through the doors onto a sunny balcony with a fine view over the
island. Her arrival was watched by both her grandfather and a large brown hound.
The dog looked rather more friendly. Not bothering with pleasantries, the laird growled, "Here to see if I'm ready to turn up my toes?"

She smiled, less intimidated than she had been at their first meeting. "I'm pleased to see you, too, Grandfather." She settled in a straight-backed chair. "You're looking well today. Naturally I'm devastated by such signs of health, but I shall endeavor to hold up under the disappointment."

His jaw dropped. Then he gave a reluctant smile. "You've a wicked tongue, girl."

She grinned. "Who do you think I inherited that from?"

"A
very
wicked tongue," he muttered, but there was amusement in his eyes. "What do you think of my island?"

"There's an amazing amount of diversity for an area so small. Meadows, moors, wooded valleys. I was impressed at how nearly self-sufficient the island is."

"And the people?"

She turned her hand palm upward. "The ones I met were rather reserved, but that's only natural."

"As well they should be. Feudalism is a damned fine system, but everything depends on the character of the overlord. They'll want to know you a good deal better before they trust you."

"Speaking of feudalism, I was startled when we passed some men working on the road and Davin said every male over fifteen on the island owes the lord a fortnight of labor a year. I thought that sort of thing was abolished centuries ago."

"Why shouldn't men work to maintain their own roads and harbor?" her grandfather said. "The island's customs originated for good reasons. Only the laird can have a dovecote because pigeons eat the grain in the fields, endangering the crops. I'm also the only one permitted to have a bitch." The hound rose and rested her head on the laird's knee. He ruffled her long ears. "If anyone could have a bitch, the island would be overrun with dogs in no time. You'll understand it all eventually."

She tilted her head to one side. "Are you seriously considering me as your heir, or is your summons merely a game? After all, Clive is male and has known the island all his life. Surely he is the obvious choice."

"Yes, but…" Her grandfather glanced away. "This is not Clive's primary home. He has many other claims on his time. I would rather leave Skoal to someone who will put it first."

It was a good answer. Nonetheless, she sensed that the laird was not entirely comfortable with Lord Haldoran.

Abruptly the laird said, "Tell me about your parents."

She looked at him warily, not sure what he wanted to hear.

He plucked at the blanket that lay over his lap. "I didn't dislike your mother, you know. She was a delightful girl. But I didn't want to see William marry an islander. Skoal is too inbred. It needs regular doses of new blood."

That might explain why he had also opposed Harald's liaison with an island girl. "I can understand the need for new blood in theory, but my parents were very happy together," she said. "My mother loved following the drum. I suppose that's why it never occurred to me to do anything else."

She went on to describe her family's life. Her father's high reputation among his fellow officers and men, her mother's ability to make a home anywhere. How Catherine had learned riding from her father and nursing from her mother; the way both of her parents had loved the sea. Now that Catherine had seen Skoal, she understood why.

Her grandfather listened in silence, his gaze on the horizon. When she stopped speaking, he said, "A pity the boy was so stubborn. He didn't have to leave and never come back."

Having met the laird, she could understand why her father had assumed he would be unwelcome. Tactfully she said, "Their world was each other and the army. I was glad they died at the same time." Her voice broke. "It… it would have been hard for one of them to go on alone."

She blinked back tears, knowing they were grief not only for her parents, but for herself. She had wanted a marriage like her parents'. Indeed, she had assumed she would have it. That expectation made her failure all the more crushing.

Her grandfather cleared his throat. "Your husband isn't what I expected. He seems steady."

"Colin and I were very young when we married. I won't deny that he had a wild streak, but he has never failed in his duty to his family or his men." That was the truth. It was equally true when she went on, "If I were to become your heir, I promise that Colin would bring no harm to Skoal or its people."

"Davin says he had sensible comments about how my land is farmed, and what changes might be good."

"He has an impressive range of knowledge." Unlike Colin, Michael had grown up on a great estate, and apparently he had paid attention to how it was run. Wanting to get away from the subject of her husband, she went on, "Davin pointed out Bone and told its history. Is it really such an unlucky place?"

"Its past speaks for itself. Besides Viking raids and plagues, Bone has always been popular with pirates and smugglers. Have Davin get a good boatman to take you over for a visit. The largest sea cave in the islands is at the west end." He smiled reminiscently. "It's quite unusual. There's even a hot spring inside. Be careful, though. The cave can only be reached at low tide. If you stay too long, you'll be trapped until the tide falls again."

"Sounds interesting. I'm sure my husband would like to see it as well. I hope there's time to visit before we leave."

Her grandfather drummed his fingers on the arm of the wheelchair. "How long do you mean to stay."

"Perhaps a fortnight?" She gave a hesitant smile. "Unless you decide we're hopeless company and sling us out."

"A fortnight isn't very long. You've much to learn here."

More and more, it sounded as if he intended to designate her as his heir. Trying to conceal her pleasure, she said, "I'll study whatever you think necessary, but we can't stay indefinitely. Colin must return to duty."

His heavy brows drew together. "You can stay without him."

Her grandfather was lonely. It was a state she understood very well. "For now, my place is with my husband and daughter."

He scowled. "What if you inherited and Melbourne decided he didn't want to live in such an isolated place? Would you stay with him and let Skoal rot?"

She regarded him steadily. "If you make me your heir, I will put the island first. My duty to a whole community must come before my duty to my husband. But truly, you needn't worry that Colin will try to keep me away."