Page 4 of Duncan

“You love me? The stray orphan kid your father decided to toss some scraps? Be honest instead of bullshitting me.” He looked her over, his expression becoming scornful. “You think I’m trash because my parents worked for Maxwell.”

Anger surged in her, hot and unexpected. “I’ve considered you my brother since you came to live with us. Dad’s always made sure you had the best of everything, just like me. If it wasn’t for him you would have ended up in foster care.”

“I’ve earned my place in this family, while you’ve just stood around and looked pretty,” her brother countered. “I’ve become the man he wanted me to be. I am the son you could never be for him.”

He seemed to be a lot angrier now, as if he hated her as much as he’d claimed to love her. This side of him always made her nervous, as it reminded her of how much bigger and stronger he was. Men she rejected sometimes became very angry with her, but she was almost sure it wasn’t that. Back when Hudson got angry when he first came to live with them he would throw and break things, and then try to blame one of the servants. Her father had finally taken him to a therapist, after which her brother seemed to calm down.

Hudson wouldn’t hurt her now, Nicole thought. He’d had too much to drink, however, and it was best she got away from him before he lost his temper.

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow, after you calm down,” Nicole said, and quickly walked away to the stairs, making her way below deck to her cabin. Only once she’d closed the door did she let out the breath she’d been holding.

Her knees shook a little as she went over to sit down at the little vanity. The paleness of her reflection in the pedestal mirror shocked her; Hudson had scared her more than she’d thought. She needed to talk to her father in the morning about this. The chain of her pendant snagged on a strand of her hair, so she took it off, untangled it and hung it in the mirror’s top finial. Her phone rang, and when she glanced at the display she saw her father’s name.

“Where did you disappear to, sweetheart?” Maxwell asked when she answered. “You still owe me a dance.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there soon,” she told him. “I just need to fix my face.”

As she switched off the phone, Nicole saw a ghostly image of a very handsome man with long silver-streaked black hair appear in the mirror. When she glanced over her shoulder she saw the face also appeared in the other mirror on the cabin wall. A miniature of the image reflected off the shiny surface of her pendant, too—or was it coming from the red stone?

A deep, mellow male voice murmured, Your face, ’tis quite lovely as ’tis.

That almost seemed to be coming from inside her head, although after drinking the cocktail she was probably imagining it. She eyed the small intercom speaker by the door; he was probably standing outside and speaking to her through that. As for his image, Brittany had always been a practical joker, and she had spent a long time in front of the mirror. Maybe she had set up some kind of mini-projector.

She might as well go along with the prank.

“Thank you.” She rose and walked over to stand where her cousin had, surreptitiously looking for whatever gadget she’d planted to make the illusion of the man appear. “Are you the magic mirror on the wall? Because I know I’m not the fairest of them all.”

I’m no mirror, my lady, only a healer from afar. His smile made his serious face transform with breathtaking masculine beauty. I dinnae reckon we shall ever meet.

He sounded like a Scotsman, Nicole thought, charmed. She couldn’t resist reaching out and touching the mirror, just as he seemed to do the same thing. For a split second she thought his skin pressed against hers, but of course she was imagining it. He was such a good-looking man it almost hurt to look into his pretty eyes.

Never again was she drinking on an empty stomach, Nicole thought. “Are you sure we can’t find each other?” she asked. “I think I already have a crush on you.”

His lips twisted. I’m no’ a fair prospect, my lady.

Her gaze shifted to the silver streaks in his hair, which hinted that the pain she saw flicker across his face might not be simply emotional. Either way he’d suffered deeply. He’d called himself a healer from afar; if that meant he worked in the medical profession then it might even be true.

“I know how that is,” she assured him. “All I have to offer is a little beauty, which will fade in a few years, and outrageous wealth, which turns everyone into snakes. I should just give it all away and live in a cottage somewhere.” Hot tears made her blink quickly. “Want to join me?”

Wistfulness replaced the pain in his dark eyes. If only I could.

“My name is Nicole Fairburn, if you change your mind.” If the guy was an actor Brittany had hired to play the part, then she might be able to meet him tomorrow. “What should I call you?”

The sound of a footstep behind her was all Nicole heard as a terrible weight smashed into the back of her head, and she blacked out.

Pain and cold wind roused her, and she opened her eyes to find herself sliding across the deck and out of the cabin. The back of her skull and both of her legs had gone numb, and something wet, hot and sticky was running down her neck and in between her shoulder blades. Above her Hudson held her by the ankles and was dragging her to the railing.

“Hud.” Her mouth didn’t want to work, and neither did her legs, which seemed as heavy as if they’d been cast in cement. How hard had he hit her? “No. Please.”

“As long as you live, Maxwell will never name me as his heir.” He grunted as he hauled her off the deck and swung her up into his arms, his feet shifting unsteadily. “You should have agreed to marry me, Nicole. Then all you would have had to do is look pretty for the family photos until the old bastard died.”

“Help.” He was lifting her above the railing, and then pushing her over it. The waves of the sea below her looked like an abyss of darkness. “Someone.”

“No one can hear you beg, Sis. Much as I’d like to listen to it, it’s time for you to get out of my way.” Hudson dropped her.

Everything that happened from there seemed to go very fast, as if time had suddenly shifted into high gear. She fell through light and shadow, and then her head hit something hard, knocking her out again.

Unconscious, but somehow still aware of what was happening, Nicole watched the dark, icy sea gulp down her body. Bubbles poured out of her mouth as she stopped fighting, and her hair and gown drifted around her like glittering seaweed. Was she drowning? Had she already drowned? She no longer seemed to be inside her body, but floated without any sensation at all. Perhaps this was the near-death experience so many people who temporarily died claimed to have. Could she be having one of those? Or could she somehow survive this?