Beyond the Highland Mist
Page 58

Adrienne was his immediate problem. Hawk snorted. Was she running off to discover the world in her smithy’s arms?
Aye. He was sure she was.
At that moment Grimm pushed the door open and ducked his head in, a silent question in his eyes.
“Is she headed north?” Hawk’s face was bitter.
“Nay,” Grimm puzzled. “ ’Tis what I expected too, but she goes east.”
“To the gatehouse? Alone?”
“Aye. Carrying only a wee pack.”
“He must be meeting her there,” Hawk mused. “The guard is following?”
“Aye, at a distance. Until you give your command.”
Hawk turned his back and studied the dying embers. His command. Should he let her go? Could he? And if she joined with Adam how would he keep himself from killing the smithy with his bare hands? No. Better to stop her before he had to know with absolute certainty her betrayal. “What have you learned of Adam?” Hawk kicked at the hearth.
“Nothing, Hawk. ’Tis as if he blew in on a fae breeze and put down roots. It’s the oddest thing. No one knows from whence he came. I think Esmerelda is our best bet for information, as she warms his bed. But I haven’t been able to track her down just yet.” Grimm rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “Seems Esmerelda’s people have moved their camp away from the north rowans to the far east pastures.”
Hawk spun on his heel, his dark eyes searching Grimm’s intently. “The Rom never move camp. They always stay in the north pastures through the summer.”
“Not this summer.” Grimm shrugged. “Verily odd. Said even the Samhain would be celebrated at a new site this harvest.”
“Strange.” Hawk pondered this new oddity. But he spared only a moment to consider the Gypsy tribe that camped Dalkeith—there were more important issues to attend to. His wife was leaving him. “Stop her at the gatehouse, Grimm. I’ll be there shortly.”
Adrienne knew she was being followed.
Escaping the castle was as hard as trying to break out of a prison. She had less chance of evading the guards than she had of wishing herself back to the twentieth century. This time she didn’t even have a gun.
Like the night Eberhard had died—a night she’d promised herself never to think of again.
She hadn’t meant for any of it to happen. She hadn’t even known what was going on until the night she’d finally discovered why Eberhard had been sending her on all those solitary vacations. So lovely and stupidly gullible. Wasn’t that how she’d heard him describe her that night she’d returned unexpectedly from London, hoping to surprise him?
And surprise him she had.
Slipping in the back door of the garage and into his luxurious home, Adrienne overheard a conversation not meant for her ears.
A conversation he would have killed her for hearing.
She hadn’t called out his name as she’d placed her hand on the door to his den. Gerard’s voice carried clearly through the door.
“Did Rupert meet her in London?”
Adrienne froze. They were talking about her. How had they known that Rupert was in London? She’d just met him there yesterday. She hadn’t even called Eberhard and discussed anything with him yet. She’d come back on the redeye and it had taken all day and half the night to get home. She pressed her ear to the door, listening curiously.
Eberhard laughed. “Just as we’d planned. He told her he was in town to buy a gift for his wife. You know Adrienne, she’d believe anything. She didn’t notice a thing when he swapped her luggage. She’s so lovely and gullible. You were right about her from the first, Gerard. She’s the perfect pigeon. And she’ll never catch on to what we’re doing until it’s too late to matter.”
Adrienne jerked violently, her hand frozen on the door.
“And when she finally gets caught, Eb? What will you do then?”
Eberhard’s laughter chilled her blood. “Ah, that’s the beauty of it. They’ll dig up the records from the orphanage. I took the liberty of having them doctored a bit. They now reflect a juvenile delinquent with a natural inclination toward criminal behavior. She’ll take the fall alone. There’s not a cop in my fair city who’d try to pin anything on Mr. Eberhard Darrow Garrett—generous political patron. I never leave the Kingdom of N’Awlins. She’s the one always in and out of the country.”
Adrienne’s eyes were wide with horror. What was he saying?
Gerard laughed. “We got a huge shipment out in her Mercedes last month, Eb. The Acapulco run was nothing but brilliant.”