“Of course,” Rory said stiffly. He even gave a little bow. “You must be Duncan Aberdeen.”
“Pleased to meet you.” With his usual charming smile, Duncan offered his hand, which Rory shook, then stepped outside to put an arm around Mathilda’s shoulder. “I’ll explain later,” he murmured in her ear.
Mathilda gave up on understanding what was going on, and allowed the two men to guide her inside the cottage.
In the living room, she found her mother draped like a wilting lily across the bamboo couch. and her father stretched out in a wicker armchair with a washcloth on his forehead. Jamie was carefully carrying two cups of steaming coffee from the kitchen into the living room. In the kitchen, Lincoln was already pouring more.
Rory released Mathilda’s arm, leaving her in Duncan’s hands, and strode into the kitchen. He must have delivered the news about the crystal to Lincoln, because a string of muttered curses came next. They were followed by a whispered consultation between the two of them.
Meanwhile, Duncan eased Mathilda into a wicker chair like the one her father was moaning in.
“What’s going on?” she asked Duncan. “Why is everyone such a mess?”
“I have no idea. All I know is that we all passed out. Jamie and I woke up first, both of us flat on our backs on the grass. We tended to your parents first, but before we got to you, these two showed up.” He pointed at Lincoln in the kitchen. “I didn’t care for the way that one was talking. He sounded quite aggressive when he asked where you were. I told him it was none of his business, and how dare he barge in without an invitation. That’s when he took a swing at me.”
“He did that?” Now that she looked closely, she saw a mark on his cheekbone.
“Yes, quite rude of him, really. Jamie pitched in and between the two of us, we got him handled.” He directed a smile at Jamie, who was already back with more mugs of coffee.
She peered at poor Lincoln, who really did look a disaster. Both him and Rory had bruises and cuts all over their faces. “Did you beat them up?”
“No no, they came that way.” He gave a rueful laugh. “That might be why we were able to corral Lincoln. Jamie and I refused to let him near you, but the other one, Rory, he managed to sidestep us. But after all that, it looks like Rory was just trying to help.”
“Yes. Just trying to help.” That was all. Not trying to declare his love or win her hand or any of that crap. Just trying to help Lincoln find the crystal. “But thank you for protecting me.”
“Of course. I will always protect you. I threw the bit in about you being my fiancée to make sure they knew not to mess with you.” He smiled with complete heartfelt sincerity. “Mess with you. That’s another Americanism Jamie taught me.”
In the other wicker chair, her father lifted one corner of the washcloth off his face. “Hello, sweetheart.”
“Hi Daddy.” She struggled out of the chair and went over to give him a hug. “Are you okay?”
“Just dandy. Remind me never to drink passionfruit cocktails again.”
Duncan let out a hoot of laughter, and so did Jamie, but it took Mathilda a moment to get the joke. What was wrong with her brain? It was moving so slowly.
The laughter roused Charlotte, who sat up on the couch and picked up the cup of coffee Jamie had left for her. After a sniff, she said, “Well then, here we all are. I don’t suppose there’s a chance of some tea instead?”
Mathilda wanted to laugh, and then cry, and then laugh again. Her parents…they were a hoot, that was what they were. They weren’t perfect as she’d always thought. They were just two human beings with their own quirks and flaws. Maybe Charlotte had felt the need to appear perfect because she’d made the drastic decision to go against her family. Maybe Mark…well no, her father was just perfect. Perfectly amiable, perfectly kind, perfectly malleable. Born with a silver spoon, married to the love of his life, never a struggle in the smooth seas of his life. Perfect—but limited.
She loved them. The fact that she was able to see and feel that so easily, well, that was because she had a bit of distance from them now. Was that thanks to her time in the jungle or…no, she realized. Not entirely. It was also thanks to Rory and her feelings for him. She understood her parents so much better now.
The others were discussing the tragic lack of tea options, making her realize that her mind had been drifting for a few minutes while she stood aimlessly next to her father’s chair.
Rory strode into the living room, followed by Lincoln. Both wore very worried expressions along with their cuts and bruises.
Lincoln hadn’t been that beat up the last time she’d seen him, on the beach at Waipi’o. Who had done that? What was going on? She felt so out of it, as if she’d picked up a book several chapters after where she’d left off reading.
“We have a problem,” Rory told them. “Did anyone happen to pick up an object from the lawn? It’s about two inches, a jagged oval shape, and it looks more or less like a crystal.”
Everyone glanced at each other, then shook their heads.
“I’m afraid the last thing I would think about upon waking up from a fainting fit would be jewelry,” said Charlotte. “I’m almost vaguely insulted that you would ask such a thing.”
“Don’t insult my wife.” Mark winced at his own forceful words, then rubbed the spot between his eyebrows.
“Do you think we’re thieves?” Apparently her mother had decided to make a drama out of this. “Is that why you would ask such a thing?”
Lincoln scratched at his scruffy jaw. “No, of course not. But if you did happen to pick it up?—”
