Page 26 of Single Desire
“We are on McBride lands, are we not?”
He looked at her oddly, then gave a nod. He pointed through the window to her left. “Gleneden Hall is several miles to the northwest.”
It was uncanny. Maura had known the instant they were on his lands. As they crested a small rise, she caught a glimpse of a building in the distance. Not a castle like McDonough…She saw aged timbers, stone chimneys, and a slate roof that protected the massive structure—a structure that appeared as dark as its owner.
A haze of mist began to drape over the earth, seeping into the hills and trees, when she saw lights from inside his home flicker, there one minute, gone the next, as the carriage traveled through dense forest.
An unearthly chill stole over her. Her father was right. She was right. The Circle was here. Somewhere. Somewhere close. Her ears buzzed; an odd sizzle flashed inside her. With aching heart, she remembered the night her father died, his words.
It calls to me. The Circle calls to me. It cries out to come home.
Oh, God. Now she knew what her father meant. How he had felt!
For she felt the very same—as if the Circle called to her.
The carriage door opened. Maura wasn’t even aware they’d stopped. She rose and started down the steps. Her knees threatened to buckle. The long hours in the coach had taken their toll—as well imparting a strange eeriness. Alec caught her around the waist and swung her around and to the ground.
Huge wooden doors were thrown wide. Maura stood as if mesmerized. This, then, was her home—at least for the time it took to find the Circle. She found herself pierced by a pang ofdread. Gleneden Hall was massive. In her eyes, it appeared dark and foreboding.
Alec led her up a series of stone steps. At the threshold he caught hold of her elbow. Startled, Maura looked up at him. His expression matched his half smile. Both reflected an almost smug satisfaction. Instinct made her start to step back; before she knew what he was about, Alec swung her up and into his arms and carried her across the threshold, past the doors and into a vast great hall.
He kicked the massive wooden door behind them closed. “Welcome to your new home, Irish,” he murmured, just before he lowered her slowly to the floor, one arm curled possessively around her waist.
A host of servants lined up to greet their master. Catching her hand, Alec raised it high, introducing her as the new duchess. Maura winced. She was certain she’d never forget those stunned looks, though they were quickly replaced by smiles. The only name she truly remembered was Mrs. Yates, the housekeeper.
When they were finally alone in the massive great hall, Alec’s smile, however, was anything but welcoming.
He tipped his head to the side. “Well, well, well,” he said softly, “it’s right into the belly of the beast you’ve come, isn’t it, Irish?”
The scathing look she granted him was blunted by the tremor of her lips.
“What do you think of your new home?”
“Well, I’ve hardly seen—”
“Did you expect more from a Scottish duke? A grand palace perhaps? My lovely lady, my duchess, my wife. I do hope your new home fits your expectations.”
Maura ignored his mockery. She craned her neck to gaze at the massive timbered ceiling, the peak at least four stories high.
“Impressive, isn’t it? It’s the original great hall, what was initially built as a hunting lodge for Robert the Bruce.” Alec stood in the very center of the enormous great hall, his hands behind his back. Tall, so very much the proud duke.
“King Robert II of Scotland created the first Duke of Gleneden for my family’s support throughout the wars for Scottish independence. It’s said the first duke and the Bruce were distant cousins. In fact, you may find this interesting, Irish. The Bruce’s second wife, Elizabeth, was the daughter of the Earl of Ulster. It’s possible that you and I may claim the same lineage, back through the ages.”
“You are smiling, your grace. You find that amusing?”
His half smile widened. “You are quick to take offense. Your nature is a fiery one, is it not?”
Maura’s jaw clamped tight. “You have not known me long enough to know my nature, your grace.”
Deliberately, she turned her face aside, letting her gaze drift around the room. Alec gestured. “The stag heads mounted on each side of the doors to the formal dining room are courtesy of my ancestor Duncan, the twelfth Duke of Gleneden. The headof the gray wolf on the wall beside the far window”—he waved a hand to his left—“was taken by the tenth duke in the 1600s.”
Maura couldn’t help but remember the howl of the wolf on the night her father died. Tingles went up and down her spine.
“The boar on the wall above you is a much more recent trophy, from one of my hunts as a boy,” Alec continued.
“The belly of the beast indeed.” Maura couldn’t resist a jibe. “The McBrides are great hunters, it would seem.” She looked him straight in the eye. “Any seafarers in the family, my lord?”
If he was discomfited, he showed no sign of it. He shrugged. “None that I know of.”
