Beyond the Highland Myst(88)

"Without her what?" Lydia asked faintly.

The Hawk just shook his head and walked away.

* * * * *

Adrienne walked slowly through the bailey looking for the Hawk. She hadn't seen him since he'd left their bed early that morning. Although she knew she'd be standing beside him soon pledging her vows, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to go wrong.

She approached the mossy stones of the broch. Looking at it reminded her of the day Hawk had given her the first lesson in how a falcon was tamed.

How deliriously a falcon was tamed.

She opened the door and peered inside, a faint smile curving her lip. How frightened and fascinated she'd been by the Hawk that day. How tempted and hopeful, yet unable to trust.

Was that the flutter of wings she heard? She squinted into the gloom, then stepped in.

A part of her wasn't surprised at all when the door closed swiftly behind her.

As she was plunged into darkness she had an abrupt flash of understanding. This was the danger she had so feared—whatever or whoever was behind her.

Adrienne felt as if she'd been balancing on the edge of a razor since last night, waiting for something bad to happen. Now she understood perfectly what had kept her awake all night—it had been her instincts again, warning her of impending doom, clamoring that it was just a matter of time before her world fell apart.

And whoever was behind her was certainly the harbinger of her destruction.

"Beauty."

Adam's voice. Adrienne's body went rigid. Her jaw tensed and her hands fisted when he grabbed her in the darkness and pressed his hips hard against the curve of her rump. She lurched forward but he tightened his arms around her and dragged her back against his body.

When his lips grazed her neck she tried to scream, but not a sound came out.

"You knew I'd come," he breathed against her ear, "didn't you, lovely one?"

Adrienne wanted to protest, to scream denial, but some part of her had known—on a visceral, deeply subconscious level. In that instant, all her strange encounters with Adam Black were suddenly washed crystal-clear in her mind. "You made me forget," she hissed, as memories flooded her. "The strange things you did—when you took the Hawk's face at the fountain—you made me forget somehow," she accused.

Adam laughed. "I made you forget when I took you to Morar too, even earlier than that. Do you remember lying in the sand with me now, sweet Beauty? I'm giving them back to you, those stolen times. Remember me touching you? Remember when I took you to my world to cure you? I touched you then, too."

Adrienne shuddered as the memories unfogged in her mind.

"I take from you what you don't need to recall, Beauty. I could take from you memories you'd love to lose. Shall I, Beauty? Shall I free you from Eberhard forever?" Adam pressed his lips to her neck in a lingering kiss. "No, I have it, I shall erase every memory you have of the Hawk—make you hate him, make him a stranger to you. Would you like that?"

"Who are you?" Adrienne choked as tears filled her eyes.

Adam turned her slowly in his arms until she faced him. His face was icy and definitely not human in the grayish half-light. "The man who's going to destroy your husband and everything at Dalkeith if you don't do exactly as I say, lovely Adrienne. I suggest you listen to me very, very carefully if you love him."

* * * * *

Hawk couldn't find Adam. He couldn't find Grimm. And now he couldn't find his own wife. What the hell kind of wedding day was this?

The Hawk paced through the lower bailey calling her name, his hands clenched into fists. On the ridge, people had already started to gather. Clanspeople were arriving in droves from miles around. Come twilight there would be nearly seven hundred plaids gathered on Dalkeith's shore; the Douglas was a large clan with many crofters tilling the land. Earlier in the morning the Hawk had sent his guard into the hills and vales announcing the laird's wedding this eve, thus ensuring the attendance of every last person, young and old.

But there wouldn't be any wedding if he couldn't find his wife.

"Adrienne!" he called. Where the hell had she gone? Not in the castle, not in the gardens… not at Dalkeith?

Nay!

"Adrienne!" he roared, his pace quickening to a run. Calling her name, he sped past the falcon broch.

"Hawk, I'm here!" He heard her cry echo behind him.

"Adrienne?" He skidded to a halt and turned.

"I'm right here. Sorry," she added as she closed the door to the broch and stepped outside.

"Don't ever leave me again without telling me where you're going. Didn't you hear me calling you?" he growled, fear roughening his voice.

"I said I'm sorry, Hawk. I must have been woolgathering." She paused where she stood.