Heart of the Druid Laird (4 page)

“Before I explain, I must have your promise. You canna share this with anyone, especially not with Sidney.”

“She’s my best friend.” She glared at him and snatched her hand back. “If this involves her, you can’t expect me to keep it to myself.”

“I must insist. You know how easy it is between us, aye? It’s no’ so between Sidney and Dermot. Theirs was no’ an easy match, ever. I believe it’s crucial they find their own way through this.”

“Find their own way through what? What do you mean by
ever?
You people showed up in our store yesterday—as in one day prior to today.”

“I’m talking about Dermot and Mairéad.” Thomas raked a hand through his hair.

“No. You said Sidney and Dermot.” She shook her head. “I’m not following you.”

“Aye, that’s clear.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You’ve come back to me.”

“I didn’t come back to you. I’ve never traveled to Scotland. You came here, remember?”

“Back to me as in reincarnated, lass. Just as Sidney is Mairéad reborn. You see? Mairéad gave up her birthright to be with Dermot, she wanted him that much. Dermot had no idea what to do with the lass once he had her, but the union gave our clan an alliance beyond any worth.”

“Again. No eff-ing clue,” Zoe muttered in an annoyed tone and scowled at him. “What has all that got to do with me?”

“It’s why I lost you, and why I can’t die. It all has to do with the curse. I’m trying to tell you about the curse.”

“Ohhh. There’s a curse. Of course there’s a curse.” She smacked her forehead. “Now it all makes perfect sense.” She glared at him. “Not.”

Thomas put his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. “Och, I’m going about this all wrong.”

“Ya think?”

“I swear I do no’ know where to begin.”

She nudged one of his elbows off his knee so he was forced to sit up. “Try starting at the beginning.”

“Aye.” He took her hand and placed a kiss in the center of her palm. “I must have your promise first. Will you keep this between the two of us?” He watched her think it over. Her natural curiosity battled with her loyalty and protectiveness toward Sidney.

She sighed, and her solemn eyes met his. “I will keep it between us unless I find out you’ve made all this shit up. In which case, don’t let my stature fool you. My temper
far
exceeds my size.”

He chuckled and put both arms around her stiff body. “That’s all I can ask, love. It all began the day Dermot was born.”

“Wait.” She raised her hand to stop him. “Is Dermot as old as you?”

“He’s a couple of years older.”

“Do we
have
to go all the way back to his birth?”

“Aye, we do if you’re to understand the curse. I want you to know all of it.” He paused until she agreed with a nod. “Dermot’s mother died giving him life, and his father couldna’ bear the sight of him because of it. He gave Dermot to the Druids to raise as a priest.”

“What an awful thing to do.”

“Nay. Remember, this occurred in the fifth century. Giving a son into the keeping of those responsible for a clan’s good standing with the gods was considered a noble sacrifice. Only those close to the family knew there was nothing noble about what Dermot’s father did that day.” He took her hand in his and played with her fingers.

“Anyway,” he continued. “Dermot’s mother was a Pict, the daughter of their king, and her people also looked after him. As Dermot learned the Druidic arts, his uncles on his mother’s side saw to it he also learned the ways of a warrior. He and his brothers were all prepared to lead their clan.”

Zoe rested her head on his shoulder. “You call him Druid because he was raised by Druid priests?”

“Aye. When Dermot reached a score of years, his father and one of his brothers were slain in battle. His only remaining brother succumbed to a fever shortly after. Their deaths left us without a laird. His mother’s people brought Dermot back and insisted he take his rightful place as our chieftain. From that day forward he became known as the Druid Laird.” Thomas tilted her chin up and looked into her eyes. “The next part of the tale might be a tad hard to believe, lass.”

Zoe snorted. “Harder to believe than your being…so much older than I am? Harder to believe than my being your reincarnated lover, and that you never, um…”

“I’ve never died.”

“Right.” She stood up, and paced around the room with her hands on her hips. “This is just swell.”

“
Leannan,
there’s more.” Thomas rose and took a step toward her.

“Not tonight there isn’t. Take me home, Thomas.”

Sidney put the finishing touches on the “enchanted” display and glanced at Zoe. “You’re awfully quiet. Is something bothering you?”

“I can be quiet. I’m frequently quiet.”

“Hah! Since when?”

“Since right now,” Zoe muttered. “Can I ask you something?”

“That’s it. I’m taking your temperature. You must be sick if you’re asking if you can ask.”

“Be serious.”

She stopped fussing with the T-shirts and stepped back to take a good look at her friend. Serious? Zoe was rarely serious. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been thinking lately…about stuff.” Zoe straightened the dragons on the shelf in front of her. “Do you, um…”

“Spit it out.” She frowned.

“Okay. Do you believe in reincarnation?”

“Not you, too.” She rolled her eyes. “What made you think of this now?”

Zoe shrugged. “It’s just that it feels like Thomas and I have known each other forever. I’m usually so shy around a man I’ve just met.”

She laughed, and once she saw Zoe’s disgruntled expression she laughed even harder. “I’m sorry. Have you forgotten our go-to-bars-to-meet-guys days?
Shy
is not an adjective anyone would use to describe you.”

“Fine,” she snapped. “I’d appreciate it if you kept that little bit of shared history to yourself.” The door chimed, and she gasped. “Especially from Thomas.” She ran her fingers through her curls and smoothed her blouse. “They’re here. I’m having lunch with him. I’ll be back in an hour.”

The pinball machine inside Sidney started up, and she forced herself to take a deep, fortifying breath.
Be firm.
She turned to find Dermot already close at hand. His intense gaze took inventory of her body. She swallowed. “Mr. MacKay, I thought I made myself clear yesterday. I have no time for lunch.”

“Dinner, then. I can be flexible.” He slid his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, widened his stance and blocked her escape route.

“Not dinner either.” His nearness made it difficult to speak, or breathe for that matter.
Be firm.
“I’ve already made my decision. We aren’t going to do business, and if that’s the only reason you made the trip to the U.S., I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“It’s no’ the only reason. I need your help.”

“I can’t imagine anything you could possibly need from me.” She lifted her chin. “Legally, that is.”
When he comes begging your help, refuse him.
None of it made sense. How could she help someone like him? He reeked of money and power. She reeked of…too much debt. What did she have that he wanted?

“Och, are we back to the Scottish Mafia?” Dermot laughed.

“Who is this, Sidney?” a feminine voice behind her asked.

“Oh, God.” She felt a headache coming on.

“Not God. Just the next best thing,” her mother replied dryly.

“Hi, Mom. What a surprise.” Lunch with Dermot MacKay versus another lecture about her marital status, the store and her vocation—which would be harder to bear? Sidney watched her mother give Dermot an intense once-over.

“Mrs. St. George, what a pleasure. I can see where Sidney gets her beauty.”

“Why, thank you.” Her gaze traveled from Dermot to Sidney and back again. “Sidney, why haven’t you returned my calls?”

Her mother’s avid interest made her cringe. Sidney took a deep breath and pasted a smile on her face. “I’ve been busy. Susan St. George, meet Dermot MacKay.”

“How very lovely to meet you, Dermot.” Her mother graced him with a brilliant smile. “Call me Susan.”

Dermot could feel the tension between mother and daughter and wondered at the cause. That is, until Susan St. George focused her speculative gaze upon him. Mothers were not so different in the twenty-first century than they were in the fifth. Aye, and it suited him just fine. He’d use anything at his disposal to get his way. “I was about to take Sidney to lunch. Perhaps you’d like to join us?” He crossed his arms over his chest and sent Sidney a triumphant grin. As expected, her mother’s eyes lit up.

“Thank you.” Susan patted his arm. “I’ve already eaten. You two go on.”

Sidney gave him a defiant look. “I just told him I can’t get away for lunch today.”

“Oh, go on.” Susan turned back to her daughter. “Have some fun. I’ll stay here and help out for a bit. After all, I did work here for thirty years. I do know how to help customers and ring up a sale.”

“Fine.” Sidney’s face suffused with color as she stomped off.

He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep the grin off his face. “You used to work here?” He turned back to Sidney’s mother.

“Yes, only it was a hardware store then. The business supported three generations of St. Georges before it became the boutique it is now.” She sighed and looked around. “This building holds the history of my husband’s family, may he rest in peace.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” He watched Sidney emerge from the rear of the store. Something about her drew him in a way Mairéad never had, and yet their souls were one in the same. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. The very way she moved affected him. Susan St. George’s presence at his side barely registered.

“It’s been two years,” Susan continued. “I wanted to sell the business and the building. My daughter persuaded me to let her turn it into a venue for local artists, designers and crafters. Here’s Sidney.” She turned to smile at him. “Enjoy your lunch.”

He nodded, and followed Sidney out of the store. He had to quicken his stride to keep up with her pace. The thin, tight line of her mouth warned him to tread carefully. “Where are you leading me, lass?”

“Thai food.”

“So, Panache à Trois used to be the family hardware store?”

“Yep.”

“Your mother seems very pleasant.”

“Mmm.”

Dermot wasn’t sure what the sound she made meant. “You have only the one brother?”

“That’s right.”

“Your mother told me your father passed two years ago. That must’ve been difficult for you. I’m sorry.”

“Of course it was difficult.”

Dermot racked his brain for something to draw her out. “You’re very lucky to have your mother.”

She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to frown at him. “I know I’m lucky. I love my mother, even if she does make me crazy.”

Never having had a mother, he found the dynamics a fascinating study. The relationships between mothers and their offspring were always complex and fraught with archetypes and symbolism. “How does she make you crazy?”

“She just does,” she huffed. “Whenever we talk, it seems we’re limited to two subjects.”

“What might those be?” She remained silent, and he wondered if she’d answer.

“Well, there’s the hardware conversation. Everyone who lives inside a building needs hardware, Sidney. Not everyone needs an original watercolor painting or handmade soap.”

“Ah, I see. Yet, she agreed to the boutique?”

“Sure she agreed.” She gave him a wry grin. “Just so she’d have something to torture me with.”

“And the other topic?”

“Yes, the other topic.” Sidney pushed her hands deep into her pockets. “She asks if I’ve
met
anyone. She’s become very determined to see me married and producing grandchildren.” She glanced at him. “Funny, huh? I mean, this is the twenty-first century. Women don’t need marriage to be successful. There’s nothing wrong with being single.”

“I canna say what women need today. Meeting me should make your mother happy, aye?” He grinned. “She knows you’re on a date.”

“This isn’t a date, MacMud. This is more akin to a stalking.”

Dermot chuckled. “If your mother’s nagging is the worst of your burdens, you’re a sight better off than most.” He heard her breath hitch before she turned away. “There’s more,” he prodded.

“Of course there’s more, and it’s none of your business.”

“Sometimes it’s easier to share your problems with a stranger.” Dermot shrugged. “I’ve a willing ear.” She gave him a skeptical look. “And, I live an ocean away.” He smiled and nudged her with his elbow. “Tell me.”

“I don’t think so, MacKay. It’s personal and I don’t know you.”

“What’s the harm? I swear no’ to share it with a soul, and if you like, I’ll share something equally as personal with you.”

She seemed to ponder his offer for a moment, and then the tension in her body eased. “Okay, but it has to be something really mortifying.”

“I already shared my most mortifying secret. Do you think I tell everyone my father gave me away like a pair of unwanted shoes?” The truth of his statement struck him between the eyes. He had told her. Why had he done so, and why had it been so easy?

“Yes, you did, and I’m still having trouble believing that story.” Sidney glanced up at him through her long lashes.

“Ask any of my men. They’ll confirm it’s true.”

Sidney sighed. “All right. Like my mother said, I lost my father two years ago.”

Dermot couldn’t help himself. He put his arm around her shoulders, careful not to hold her too close. His heart soared when she didn’t move away. “May I ask how he passed?”

“A freak accident. He slipped on a patch of ice, went down hard and hit his head on the sidewalk. He suffered an embolism and died.” She paused, swallowing a few times before continuing. “I hold a Masters in fine art. I attended the Minneapolis College of Art and Design, and then the University of Minnesota. When I first started school, my father never let an opportunity pass to tell me what he thought of my plans.”

“I’m sure he was proud.”

“Hardly.” She shook her head. “He referred to my career choice as an artsy-fartsy waste of time and money. His money. He urged me to go into something more legitimate, like marketing or business. My dad said I couldn’t make a decent living in the arts.” Sidney studied the store front they passed. “He didn’t believe in me.”

“I’m sure he was only concerned for your welfare, Sidney.”

“Like I said, he didn’t believe in me. I got tired of hearing it, so I stopped letting him pay my way, and I started taking out student loans. Let’s just say I have some debt.”

“Aye, that’s no’ so uncommon is it?” Where was she going with this?

“When my father died, Mom wanted to sell the hardware store, building and all. She had a buyer lined up.” She started to twist a strand of her hair around a finger. “Neighborhood hardware stores can’t compete with Home Depot, Menard’s, or any of today’s large chain stores. My father had mortgaged the family business to the hilt to keep it going. My brother and I didn’t know any of this until he died. The building and the business have been in the family since the St. Georges settled here. Selling didn’t seem right.”

She shrugged. “I talked my mother into letting me and Zoe turn it into a boutique. Grand Avenue has changed over the years. It’s trendy and upscale with some very distinctive shops. I believe we can be profitable, and because most of our inventory is consignment, overhead is low. At least it will be once we’ve paid off the mortgage.”

“Seems like a very sound move. So what’s the problem?”

“What if it fails?” She shrugged. “What if my father was right, and it turns out to be an artsy-fartsy waste of time and money? What if my mother is right, and people don’t need watercolor paintings and handmade soaps?”

“It seems to be doing well.” He didn’t like seeing her upset. Every cell in his body urged him to protect her, to fix the problem immediately. He wanted to see her smile.

“Does it?” She sighed. “Not nearly as well as it needs to. Don’t you see? I have way more debt than assets. David is still in college, and my mother needs the retirement income selling the place would’ve given her. My family is depending on me.” She shook her head. “There’s so much debt, I wonder if we’ll ever see black.”

Just like that, she handed him the missing piece to the puzzle. He could offer to pay off all her debts in exchange for her help in lifting the curse. For some reason, having the key didn’t make him as happy as he thought it would.

Thomas started the SUV and reached under the driver’s seat to grab the book he’d brought with him. “Don’t forget to take this with you after lunch, Zoe.”

“What is it?” Zoe took the book from his hands and read the title out loud. “
Scottish Myths and Legends.
Why are you giving this to me?”

“We’re in it. I’m in it.
The Legend of the Druid Laird
is about Dermot and my clan.” Zoe made no response. He glanced at her, and found her staring out of the car window with her chin propped on her fist. “Zoe?”

“I almost wish you hadn’t given me this book.” She tossed it to the floor by her feet. “Now I’m thinkin’ you’ve made the whole thing up based on some stupid story you read.”

“I thought I already proved I didn’t make the whole thing up. What’s it going to take before you believe me? Shall we go back to the hotel so I can cut myself again?” Thomas scowled at her.

“Point taken.” She sighed.

“I want to get past this. I need to tell you the rest of the tale and have done with it.” He reached out to wrap one of her blond curls around his finger. “You always were a stubborn little thing.”

Zoe turned to face him, her eyes wide. “Do you mean in my other life?”

“Aye.” Thomas grinned. “Stubborn and bossy.” Zoe’s disgruntled expression made him laugh, and she moved her curls out of his reach.

“And beautiful beyond compare.”

“What was my name?”

“Iselda. My lovely Iselda, as fair as a sunny day in spring you were.” A lump formed in his throat. He remembered everything, even after all these centuries.

“Of course,” Zoe snapped.

Her tone brought him back fast. “What is it, love?”

“I’m feeling jealous…of myself.” She turned to gaze out the window again. “I don’t want to be with someone who only wants to be with me because of who I used to be…even though both are me. I want to be with someone who wants to be with me—the me I am now.” She huffed. “This is so eff-ing confusing.”

“I understand what you’re trying to say.” Thomas reached for her hand. “It’s you I want, Zoe LeBlanc. I canna wait to learn everything there is to know about you. I canna wait to make love with you and have our first fight.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “Your spirit is the same as it always was, though you are a different person altogether. Does that make sense?”