Page 74 of Her Magnificent Mistake
No. Not Hawk. He wasn’t a man built to hate.
She sighed against Bull’s shoulder. Hawk couldn’t hate her oranyone. “I suppose I ought to go looking for him. I saw him riding off toward the burn.”
Bull’s fingers tightened on her arms. “The burn—was anyone with him?”
Shaking her head, she pulled away. “No, but he seemed upset.”
“He shouldnae be out there, no’ alone.” Frowning, Bull stumbled toward the window seat, and for the first time since he had burst into the room, Marcia noted how pale he was. “Nae one should.”
“What is it, Bull?” She followed him, reaching for her brother, helping him ease down onto the cushions. “You are still weak? Where is Gabby?”
“Och, she went to fetch me breakfast. When I told her my memory had returned, she said?—”
“Your memory returned?” Marcia shrieked, smacking his shoulder. She immediately rubbed it. “You remembered who attacked you? Was I right? Was it because whoever it was mistook you for Hawk? Dear Lord, and you let me prattle on—you remember the murderer?”
Nodding grimly, Bull gathered her hand in his. “Aye, and that’s why I ken ye cannae allow Hawk and Allie to be out there, running about unprotected.”
Her stomach dropped down around her knees.
“Who was it, Bull?” she whispered. “What happened?”
“When I arrived at Tostinham and learned ye were up Pook’s Glen with Hawk alone, I didnae ken about yer past with him. All I could think of was how vulnerable ye’d be, how ye’d appreciate my support, and how ye’d need backup. I rushed off, and I even found the place where ye’d left yer horses.” He winced and rubbed at the back of his head. “But as I swung down from mysaddle, I heard a noise above me. There’s a cliff up there, ye ken?”
She nodded eagerly. “About twenty feet above the spot where we left the horses! I remember that is what helped protect them from the wind.”
“Aye, well, it didnae help that day. I glanced up and saw movement. I didnae think much of it, until I saw the stone hurtling down toward me. Right before it struck, I saw a man standing up there, looking down at me, glee on his face.”
Her eyes had gone wide as her heart pounded with fear. “Who was it?”
Bull swayed, clearly not fully recovered, even as he met her gaze. “It was Artrip. The butler did it.”
CHAPTER 13
Hawk had never climbed Pook’s Glen so quickly before.
I dinnae even recall if I tied up the puir horse below.
But he couldn’t think about the horse. All he could focus on was climbing the slippery, mossy stone steps Grandda’s stonemasons had built. More than once his feet went sliding out from underneath him and he only missed falling by a quick grabbing of the wall. Twice even that didn’t slow him, and by the time he reached the top of the burn, the knees and arse of his trousers were soaked through.
Panting, he stumbled toward the cottage.
Please dinnae be locked in an intimate embrace. He had no desire to throw open the door and see Allie and Rupert kissing—or worse, the way he and Marcia had made use of this cottage. He was as enlightened as the next man as they tore toward the twentieth century…he just didn’t need to see his niece with her tongue down someone’s throat.
To his relief, Allie and Rupert were sitting outside the cottage, both of them bent over a big purple rhododendron bloom as if studying it.
Hawk told himself the panting he was doing was in relief. Not because he was exhausted.
The youngsters sat on a blanket that faced the cliff, a picnic spread around them, their clasped hands almost hidden by Allie’s simple skirt. They’d clearly been in the middle of an intense discussion. Judging by the way Rupert now pointed from the bloom to the sky, it had something to do with the Douglas firs that towered over the sheer thirty-foot drop to the burn below.
But now it was not the rhododendrons that consumed their attention, but himself. “Uncle Maxwell?” Allie prompted. “Is anything wrong?”
Hawk bent double, hands braced on his knees, as he fought to even out his breathing. “Are…are ye alone here? Have ye seen anyone else?”
Allie, clearly thinking he was judging them for sneaking in some time alone, rolled her eyes. “No, Uncle, we may be alone out here, but we are not being naughty.”
“Actually,” Rupert began slowly, “we may not be alone. When I was standing to fetch that bloom for ye, Allie, I thought I saw Marcia far below us. Did ye bring her?”
Straightening, Hawk peered down the burn but saw no one. Why would she have followed him? The cliff, and the way the burn twisted and turned, made it difficult to see who else was down there, but… “Well,” he sighed, “at least we’re alone up here.”
