Doon (Doon Novel, A) (8 page)

H
uffing and puffing like the big bad wolf, I staggered to the top of the tower and paused to revel in my accomplishment. I felt like I’d scaled the Statue of Liberty or the Eiffel Tower. One-hundred and seventeen steps—this place really needed to invest in some elevators.

Ahead of me, our rescuer paused to open a heavy wooden door. With a formal bow and a flourish of his hand, Prince Duncan MacCrae waited for us to precede him into the room. “After you, m’ ladies.”

With a murmur of thanks, Vee hurried across the threshold. All that climbing and she wasn’t even winded. I lumbered behind her, doing my best not to sound like a mouth-breathing phone stalker. Panting through my nose only made it worse, so I pretended to admire a painting on the wall until I could recover.

While I feigned an interest in bovine landscapes, Vee paced across the room, busying herself with our new surroundings. Despite the polite smile on her face, the corners of her mouth
pinched in tight lines, as if she were holding herself together by sheer determination. Her eyes slid across mine, threatening to storm as she bit her lower lip. Hastily fixing her focus on the opposite end of the room, she exclaimed, “Oh, wow!”

Tearing myself away from the riveting oil canvas of cows, I walked over to where Vee had paused in front of a wall of glass. Floor to ceiling diamond-cut panes sparkled in the sun. Vee pointed beyond them to the tranquil rolling hills. “I’ll bet you can see the whole kingdom from here.”

“Aye, that ye can.”

Sweet Baby Sondheim!
I nearly jumped out of my skin as Duncan’s words assaulted the back of my neck. While we’d been gawking at the sights, the sneaky prince had crept up behind us. Or, more specifically, me. He was light on his toes for a big guy. And a little too close for comfort.

With effort, Vee turned her attention away from the view. She flashed the prince a thousand-watt smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s spectacular—like being suspended in the clouds. Isn’t it, Kenna?”

Still trying to recover from being scared half to death, I managed a shrug. Which apparently wasn’t good enough for my friend, because she suddenly dug her stiletto elbow into my ribcage. “
Gaphf
—I’m breathless with admiration.”

Duncan chuckled. “So I noticed.”

“Would you look at this?” Vee spun me around so the ogre and I were nose to nose as she gracefully slipped between us. “This room is
amazing
!”

I supposed I’d have to take her word for it, since my vision was blocked by the Medieval Hulk. Didn’t this creep know about personal space? Up close and intimate with the prince, tiny details jumped out at me. His short dark hair contained some sort of styling product, giving his unruly waves an
effortlessly tousled look. The golden flecks sparkling in his brown eyes created an effect that reminded me of melted caramel. Laugh lines creased the corners of his eyes. And he smelled … like sun-warmed saddles.

His eyes widened at the same moment I realized that I’d sniffed him.
Fabulous
. Now he would think I was some deranged girl who went around smelling people. Before I could come up with some sort of plausible explanation, Vee made yet another comment about the decor. “Everything works together so well.”

With a silent smirk, Duncan retreated enough to give me an unobstructed view of the roaring fire opposite the windows and sitting area in between. But not enough space to pass without brushing against him.

Trapped, I watched Vee flit about the room like an over-stimulated hummingbird, flapping her wings just to survive. “Check out this massive hearth. It’s like staring into the mouth of a fire-breathing dragon.” Despite her admirable performance, her tone betrayed her.

Vee coped with life’s crap by smiling through it. Between the dungeon and high-and-mighty Jamie MacCrae, she’d faced more than her daily quota. And we hadn’t even gotten to the ominous and looming trial we were meant to face. She’d fall apart when she was ready. The most I could do was be prepared—which usually involved obscene amounts of Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey and the Harry Potter saga on DVD. I doubted I’d find either at the local farmer’s market.

She turned to survey the rest of the room, gliding across the plush navy and sage rugs that covered the polished wood floor. As she moved, she paused to manhandle pieces of elegant yet comfortable-looking furniture that captured her interest. Her path made me notice gleaming tables and overstuffed chairs in
shades of walnut and gold, artfully arranged into conversation groups for an effect that was both intimate and feng shui.

“This space is so inviting and—you have a library!” Like a magnet, she drifted toward the collection of books lining the back wall. Her fingertips explored the spines with growing enthusiasm.

“Look at this, Ken. Shakespeare. Dickens. Chaucer. And Jane Austen.” That was my girl. Despite the hellish day—and the threat of more to come—she couldn’t resist the siren song of literature. She pulled a red, gilded volume from the shelf and delicately opened it. “This—this is a first edition!”

“They’re all first editions.” Finally, the prince moved toward Vee, his face beaming with pride. “And there’s a hundredfold in the castle library.”

With faintly trembling hands, Vee slipped the priceless book back into its rightful place before turning her questioning countenance toward the prince. “These books have got to be worth thousands of dollars. Why aren’t they in the library with the rest?”

“Because these particular volumes are mine. This is my personal collection. All my favorites.”

That didn’t make sense. I charged across the room to join them. “Why would you keep your favorite books in the guest room?”

“Guest room?” The prince blinked at me for a moment, his brown eyes puzzled. Like the proverbial lightbulb, something clicked into place, and his gut-busting laugh filled the room. “These aren’t guest rooms, lass. These’re my chambers.”

His chambers?

Besides being surprisingly refined for the lair of an ogre, the rooms were
occupied
. Did he really have the audacity to think we’d bunk with him? Not on his pampered royal life!

“We’re not staying in your rooms.”

“Relax, woman. It’s not as if I’m asking ye to share my bed.” He paused a second too long, peering at me from beneath half-lowered lids. “I’ll be stayin’ across the way.”

Before I could respond, Vee lightly touched my arm, her cue that my mouth needed to stay shut while she diffused the situation. “While we’re honored by your hospitality, your—eh—highness, we couldn’t possibly put you out of your own chambers.”

“Oh, but I insist.” He leveled his gaze at me. “This is the safest place in the castle. I’ll have one of my men stationed just beyond the door, and Fergus and I will be close by.”

A man stationed just outside the door. Like what? A jailer. “Now, look,” I began.

Duncan cut me off. “If ye won’t think of your own safety, think of your friend’s.” As if in agreement, Vee shivered.

I couldn’t argue with that. Gideon was skulking around somewhere—and the last thing I wanted was to wake with him standing over us. But that didn’t mean I had to be all grateful about the accommodations. “Fine,” I huffed. “As long as you have the servants change your sheets—
ugh!
”

Vee’s elbow dug between my ribs to pummel my kidney. When we got home, I was going to duct tape a pair of elbow pads to her arms. With a toss of her shiny chestnut hair, she curtsied to the prince. “Thank you, Prince—eh—your highness, sir.”

He reached for Vee’s hand. When she gave it to him, he bent to brush a chaste kiss across her knuckles. He straightened with a grin, his bewitching eyes darting from Vee to me. “You needn’t stand on formalities with me. Please, call me Duncan.”

Faced with his smug, lopsided grin, I couldn’t help but be contrary. “That’s very kind,
your highness
, but I couldn’t.”

“I must insist.” He offered me his hand, palm up. Then for good measure, he added, “If ye refuse me, I’ll have ye thrown back into the dungeon.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Is that a challenge?” The right corner of his top lip twitched in a way that made me almost completely certain he was bluffing.

The echoes of a long-forgotten incident floated up from my subconscious. Some kind of face off with a smug little boy—on the playground, maybe—but before I could capture it, Vee’s elbow struck again and the thought vanished.

“Duncan,” Vee interjected, all the while reprimanding me with her eyes. “You can call me Veronica. And she’s Mackenna—Kenna for short. Isn’t that right?”

And she accused me of being the bossy one.

“Fine. Call me whatever you want.” Feigning indifference, I placed my hand in the prince’s. His lips puckered as his head bent. Suddenly, I felt as breathless as when I’d stumbled into his room. I sensed the curse of the ginger—the blush of prickling heat—as it began to redden my neck and face. My only hope of controlling the affliction was cold water, and lots of it.

Giving his hand a firm single shake, I wrenched mine away before his mouth could make contact. In an overly loud voice, I heard myself babble, “Excuse me, but could you please direct me to the bath … ah … privy, the loo, whatever the heck you call it?”

He indicated a door along the back wall, next to his books. “Aye, it’s through there and to the left.”

“Come on,
Veronica
.” I tugged her away from the rare editions. “I’m not facing this alone.”

Duncan’s bedroom was equally as dazzling as the sitting room. To the right, another roaring fireplace crackled like a mythical beast, and I had to admit the cozy window seat at the
far end would make an excellent perch to contemplate the view of the mountains. I skimmed over an enormous four-poster bed that dominated the center of the room—refusing to consider what went on there—while in search of the bathroom. Just as our host promised, the door stood off to one side.

As I veered left, Vee broke from my grasp. She paused at the foot of the bed fit for a royal oaf and ogled the thick plaid-flannel comforter. Exhaustion accentuated the angles of her face, giving her purplish crescents under the hollows of her eyes. She teetered on her feet as she stifled a huge yawn. “I feel like I could sleep for a hundred years.”

I agreed. Since coming to this crazy place, time had gotten skewed. I couldn’t tell how long it’d been since we slept last, or how long until it was time to sleep again. But, unfortunately, some things were more important.

“No napping, Sleeping Beauty.” When her gaze turned somber, I quietly asked, “Are you okay? Really?”

Her eyes closed on a deep sigh and then snapped open. “I’m going to be fine. We both are.”

With images of the dungeon buckets still haunting me, I towed Vee toward the bathroom. How bad could it really be? I pushed through the doorway and froze in shock. “Whoa. Are you seeing this?”

“I would.” Vee gave me a light shove, sounding more like her usual self. “If you’d get out of the way!”

As I regained my wits, I walked forward to the item that had astounded me, and pulled lightly on an overhead chain.
Ta-da!
Water whooshed from a high tank into the open toilet bowl below and swirled down the drain.

“Modern plumbing!” Vee exclaimed as she turned an ornate faucet and watched in fascination as fresh water flowed out. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Neither was I.” I surveyed the rest of the spacious room. Blue and green ceramic tiling accented with little lion crests covered the floor and all four walls. While Vee turned her attention to the gold-plated mirror over the sink, I stepped farther into the room toward a sunken bath the size of a Jacuzzi. I tested the tap and hot water began to flow.

I couldn’t help but clap my hands together in delight. “Houston, we have hot water. I wonder if the ogre has any bubble bath.”

Rather than answer me, Vee made a small noise of alarm. Panicked, I spun away from the bathtub and toward my friend. But my alarm was unnecessary: She stared into the mirror, futilely rubbing a streak of dirt on her cheek. The wisps of hair that had escaped her high ponytail accented her face, giving her a sexy, windblown look. Attacking another smudge, this time on her forehead, she groaned, “I look disgusting!”

If by disgusting she meant flawless. It occurred to me for the umpteenth time in the course of our friendship that if I didn’t love her so much, I’d be obligated to hate her on behalf of Plain Janes everywhere. I also knew, thanks to Vee, that even the prettiest of girls could be plagued by self-doubt about their looks. “Impossible. You would still be stunning even after dunking your head in a pig sty.”

“Uh, thanks—I think.”

I placed my hand on her shoulder, careful not to encounter my own undoubtedly revolting reflection. “I wouldn’t worry about it, anyway. It’s not like you need to impress these people.”

As soon as I said it, I remembered the reason we were here. How stupid could I be? She thought she had some kind of cosmic connection with Kilt Boy.

Gently rubbing the streak on her cheek, I doubled back. “It’s not anything a bath won’t fix. Doesn’t a soak sound heavenly
right about now? Light some candles, maybe pour in a little lavender oil, just kick back with—
Duncan
.”

The slightly blushing prince filled the doorway. Clearly, he was uncomfortable being in the bathroom with members of the opposite sex. And since he’d caught me naked in my imagination … that made two of us.

“M’ ladies?” His strangled voice sounded like he’d just hit puberty all over again. “Supper has—ehm—been brought up for ye. I wanted to let you—uh—know before it gets cold.”

Before he could escape, Vee pointed to the sink. “Where did the modern plumbing come from?”

His demeanor instantly relaxed, and Duncan inclined his head toward me. “Contrary to what Mackenna may believe, we’re no’ barbarians.” With a wink, he left the room.

“Arrg! What a total jerkwad!”

I waited for Vee’s agreement, but she just laughed and said, “Let’s go eat.” Leave it to her to forgive any slight from brutes bearing casseroles.

In the main room, Fergus and a young woman with strawberry-blonde hair tucked into a white cap were busily arranging a feast. Gleaming platters overflowing with vegetables, fruit, bread, cheeses, and meat waited for us. My stomach growled in approval.