Trish set her cup on the table and folded her hands in her lap. “Why don’t you two make it easier for all of us and just tell me what’s going on?”
Tightening her lips into an irritated line, Fiona spun on her heel to face her squirming husband. “Ye see, Brodie? I told ye this was a bad idea. Neither one of us has ever been any good at playing these games.”
Brodie groaned, set his untouched tea upon the table, and rested his head in his hands. “This isna going verra well at all. It just proves I shouldha’ never been chosen.”
“Never been chosen for what?” Trish leaned forward, glancing back and forth between each of the MacKays.
Fiona rose to pace about the room. She wrung her pale hands in front of her aproned waist as she fretted. “Trish, are ye an archeologist as well? Do ye know anything about the history of this area? Are ye familiar with any of the legends surrounding the clans?”
Trish frowned as she sat back in her chair and folded her hands across one knee. “I don’t have my doctorate but I do have my master’s degree in ancient history. Nessa hired me as her assistant when we met on campus years ago. I know it usually comes as a shock to everyone but I’m not just a pair of boobs with legs. If I do say so myself, I have a pretty sharp set of brains rattling around inside this gorgeous red head. What has the history of this area and the legends of the clans have to do with Nessa and Gabriel’s accident?”
Latharn chuckled as he relaxed against the wall. His brothers would’ve loved Trish.
With a curt shake of his head at his wife, Brodie took over the conversation. “I am sworn to secrecy regarding the duty with which I’ve been charged. I can only advise ye that it would be in the best interest for the safety of all concerned if ye looked up the history of Clan MacKay.”
“The best interest for the safety of all concerned,” Trish repeated, a look of confusion wrinkling her brow. “What in the hell are you talking about? Is it some curse about the dig? This isn’t some newly found mummy’s tomb we’re defiling. This site has been under research for years and there have been no cases of anyone ever dying of any strange curses surrounding the digs.”
Brodie ground his teeth as he yanked his hands through his hair. “It has nothing to do with the Durness research sites or any of the burial cairns. The legends of clan MacKay will answer a lot of Nessa’s questions. Not only about last night, but about herself as well.”
“Why can’t you tell me?” Trish rose from her seat and crossed the room, to poke her finger against Brodie’s chest. “If you’re insinuating that Nessa’s in some sort of danger, you’d best be letting me know!”
His teeth clenched; Brodie glared down his nose at the angry redhead fuming in his face. “I’m sworn to secrecy. I’ve taken a vow. I canna tell ye anymore.”
“Oh Brodie, enough! I’ve taken no oath. I’ll tell her what she needs to know.” Fiona edged her way over to the sphere and slid it across the table to Trish. “Trish Sullivan, I’d like ye to meet Latharn MacKay, the man who is in love with Nessa Buchanan and destined to be her husband.” As she turned the pulsating crystal toward the center of the room, Fiona acknowledged Latharn’s globe with a flourish.
Latharn straightened, every sense alert, watching Trish for any sign of panic. He bided his time, waiting to see her reaction before he made his presence known. Over the centuries, he’d learned the value of timing. It made all the difference in the world.
Trish looked at them with an expression that said she thought they’d all lost their minds. Stroking her chin, she circled the table, studying the ancient stand and the mystical carvings decorating every side of the stand supporting the globe. With a nod toward the crystal, she took a deep breath as she looked into the MacKays’ worried eyes. “Okay. I’ll bite. What’s the legend say about this thing? What exactly is it I need to know?”
His arms folded across his chest. Brodie gave her his back. He turned his face to the drawing room window and refused to speak a word.
As if on cue, Fiona stepped forward. “Six hundred years ago there existed a powerful young mystic by the name of Latharn MacKay.” Fiona traced her finger around the glowing crystal, her fingers shadowed in the violet light. “He was quite handsome and…shall we say, very skilled in pleasuring the lasses. All the maids fought to be the one to warm his bed each night.”
“Sounds like Latharn MacKay was my kind of man,” Trish interrupted with a grin.
Her eyes wide, Fiona shuddered as she continued. “He made the fatal mistake of bedding a powerful, dark sorceress. One who was determined to win his heart. When she found Latharn unable to share his love, she imprisoned him within this crystal instead.”
Trish planted her hands on either side of the globe and peered deeper into the crystal. Reaching out, she turned the orb in its stand, obviously studying the swirls of energy at its core. “So, if she couldn’t have him, then she made sure nobody else could. Why didn’t she just kill him?”
Brodie exploded as he whirled from where he stood at the window. “Do ye no’ have a vindictive bone in your body? Wouldn’t ye rather torture someone who’s done ye wrong instead of giving them a quick and easy death?”
Trish clasped her hands behind her back and remained bent over the crystal ball. With a shrug of one shoulder, she leaned even closer as if mesmerized by the energy whorls.
“I guess I never quite thought of it that way. But I must admit, what you say does have some merit.” She straightened and circled around the table, with a nod for Fiona to continue the tale.
With a shaking breath, Fiona drew closer to the table. “Before taking her own life, Latharn’s mother found the secret to the curse. Rachel was a powerful whitebana-buidhseachherself. But she only used her powers for good. She discovered that for Latharn to walk among his clan once again, he must be called forth by the one woman capable of winning his love.”
Trish frowned, looking up from the globe where her eyes met Fiona and Brodie’s watchful gaze. “Nessa?”
They nodded.
“Okay. There are just a few things I’d like for you to clear up.” Trish picked up the globe, turning it about in her hands as she squinted deeper into the swirling depths. “First, how do you know Nessa’s the one? Second, if she doesn’t know about him, how’s she going to call out to him in a loving way to somehow break this spell?”
“I’m no’ a child’s bauble to be shaken about. Set me down, and I’ll explain it to ye as best as I can.” Latharn stumbled against the glass as he released his voice to echo into the room.
“Holy hell! It talks.” Trish settled the globe on the table as though it were a ticking bomb.
“I am no’ an it. I am Latharn MacKay and I would appreciate it if ye would take a bit more care with the wee crystal tomb.” Latharn increased the violet aura as his energy pulsated throughout the room.
