Authors: Jane Toombs
The Bastard (16 page)
After the guests had departed for their own homes or to their rooms if they were staying overnight, Diarmid came up behind Angelica, who was making sure that none of the discarded cigar butts were still
smoldering
. He put his arms around her, pulling her against him and nuzzling her neck.
"You're drunk," she said, trying to free
herself
.
"A Scot is never drunk!" he exclaimed. He lifted her into his arms and started for the staircase.
"Put me down," she ordered, keeping her voice low. "You don't know what you're doing."
"Going to carry the blushing bride across the threshold of her bedroom, that's what." As he climbed the stairs, he burst into song:
"Her bosom was the driven snow
Taw drifted heaps sae fair to see
Her limbs the polish’s marble stone
The lass that made the bed for me..."
"Hush, you'll wake everyone," she warned.
"Will you make the bed for me?" he asked. "No, you never did, never will. But I'll make the bed for you, yes I will."
"Diarmid, do be quiet, you'll rouse the very devil with your noise."
"No doubt the devil enjoys Robbie Burns." He fumbled the bedroom door open and kicked it shut behind them. Staggering over to the bed, he dumped her onto it and began to undress her.
"Stop that!" she cried, trying to squirm away.
He held her firmly and continued to take her clothes off. "Who's the man in this house?" he demanded. "I'll tell you who he's not--that fancy French flute-player you flirted with all night."
"Monsieur Dubois is a gentleman!"
"Sum’s I."
Diarmed
stripped off the last of her under-garments, flung it aside, bowed so deeply he almost fell on his face, recovered and climbed onto the bed. "May I have the
honor
?" he asked.
Without waiting for an answer and without removing any of his clothes, he took her,
then
fell into a drunken stupor.
He was startled when he woke the next morning to find
himself
fully dressed and in his wife's bed.
Alone.
He had no notion of how
he'd
gotten there.
Margaret Mary Burwash was born on Christmas Day. Though the birth
wasn't
prolonged, afterward Angelica ran a high fever for two weeks. Though she gradually recovered, she never fully regained her strength. Diarmid was so enchanted by his bonnie little Meg that he
couldn't
regret the circumstances that brought her into existence. Though he loved
Davis
, Meg became the light of his life.
The Burwash family celebrated Meg's second birthday by having a quiet Christmas at home. After the children
were put
to bed, Diarmid retired to the library, leaving Angelica reading in the music room. Later
he'd
help her up the stairs to her bed for she couldn't manage the steps by herself. He poured himself a brandy and settled into his comfortable leather chair where he fell asleep...
Diarmid felt the heat of the fire before he saw the fiery tendrils reaching for him. He struggled not to turn his head toward the flames
but,
as always, in vain. When the second sight took him, he involuntarily finally looked and saw a wide stream flowing through the heart of the fire, sparkling in the sun as it cascaded in a waterfall, the stream tumbling down, down onto to sharp rocks, where the water foamed and swirled. The back of Diarmid's neck prickled in fear as he stared at the rocks. Death waited there.
Who for?
A cry cut into his vision and he roused, blinking, looking around the library in confusion.
"Diarmid!"
Angelica called.
He sprang to his feet and hurried toward the music room. She met him at the door, flinging herself into his arms. "I had the strangest feeling just now." Her voice quivered as she spoke. "Like someone walking over my grave."
He patted her back soothingly, wanting to reassure her but unable to find the words with his own unsettling vision still filling his mind with dread. Had his been a true vision? He feared so. All the others had been.
"I'm so tired," she whispered, leaning against him.
I'll carry you up the stairs," he told her.
After
he'd
laid her on her bed, he called Conchita to help her undress. Angelica clutched at his hand when he started to leave. "Don't go."
"I'll come back when
Conchita's
finished
,"
he assured her.
While he waited, he looked in on the sleeping children.
Davis
lay on his back, arms outstretched. The lad was handsome and strong--an open and trusting child, though with a fiery temper. Meg lay curled on her side, a favorite doll in the crook of one arm. Diarmid smiled down at her, so sweet and pretty. If she was more devious than her
brother
, he forgave her. Her coloring was not as dark
as
Davis
's, her hair a deep brown, her eyes hazel. When she smiled at him, Diarmid couldn't
resist her--she was the most charming wee lass in the world.
Angelica had taken her time about it, but
she'd
given him two wonderful children.
"Please ask Mr. Burwash to come to me," Angelica told Conchita as the
maid
tucked the covers around her. She
didn't
feel right, not right at all and Diarmid's touch would comfort her, would dispel some of her uneasiness.
Conchita nodded. Angelica could never get these Mexican
maids
to say, "Yes, ma'am," like they should but she was too used to Conchita to want a change. Besides, the woman did have a remarkable flair for hairdressing.
Diarmid stepped through the door as soon as Conchita went out; he must have been waiting in the hall. He strode to her side and stood looking down at her. She patted the bed in invitation and he sat down. After that terrible night when he forced himself on her, giving her Meg, he was careful not to come into her bedroom without
being asked
.
"How are you feeling now?" he asked. "Are you in any pain?"
"I can't describe what's wrong--it's as though something dreadful is going to happen and yet I have no pain, nothing like that, merely a fluttering inside my chest." She reached for his hand. "Please stay with me. When you're here I'm not afraid."
He held her hand between both of his. "I'll send for Dr. Murrieta."
"No, I don't want a doctor. Just stay with me."
Your hand is so cold."
"Yours are warm. They're always warm."
He brought her hand to his cheek. "I'm worried about you. The doctor--"
"He'd never get here in time."
"Angelica!"
His voice rose. "You don't know what you're saying."
"Hush. Don't wake the children."
Diarmid gazed wildly about the room. "There must be something I can do. Some way to--"
"I want you here next to me,
that's
what you can do for me." She reached up to touch his eyebrows and found the effort almost beyond her. "Don't frown so." She closed her eyes. "Stella," she said.
She heard Diarmid catch his breath and smiled. Did he think, after all this time, she meant to chide him?
"Stella's getting too old to work in the cantina," Angelica continued, finding each word harder to say than the one before. She was so weary. "Bring her here. The children will need her. And you, too."
"It's you I need," he said softly. "It's always been you."
I
know, she wanted to say. I know
you've
always loved me, but she couldn't speak, Couldn’t move, she was drifting away like thistledown, growing lighter and lighter.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jane
Toombs
, the Viking from her past and their calico
grandcat
,
Kinko
, live on the south
shore
of
Lake Superior
in
Michigan
’s
Upper Peninsula
wilderness. Here they enjoy refreshing
Springs
, beautiful Summers,
colorful
Falls and tolerate miserable Winters. Jane is edging toward ninety with her published books and has over twenty-five novellas and short stories to her credit.
She’s
been published in every genre except men’s action and erotica, but paranormal is her
favorite
.
She’s
a member of a closed twelve author promo group called Jewels Of The Quill, where she’s “Dame Turquoise” at
Also from Books We Love Publishing, Hallow House, Books
I
and II, and Ten Past Midnight.
Six stories and three poems on the dark side of paranormal.
Everything from ghouls to the heart-eating Egyptian beast who decides one's fate.
Even the touches of romance are definitely different.
But
what traveler can expect the norm when on the wrong side of midnight? Ten past midnight
All's
not well. Every road leads right To hell
..
NOTE FROM THE PUBLISHER:
Thank you for purchasing and reading this
Best Regards and Happy
Reading
, Jamie and Jude
The Beverly Hills Boutique of eBook publishers.
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New
from award winning authors.
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