Free The Presence by Heather Graham Page A

mean something, no matter how far the world moved along.
    Bruce had been his friend for years.
    â€œWonder if he knows what I’ve felt all these years?” Jonathan asked out loud. “You’re a decent chap, Laird MacNiall, that y’are! Slainte, my friend. To your health. Always.”
    He smiled slightly. Aye, he could have told the Americans easily enough that there was a Bruce MacNiall. Then again, why the hell should he have done so? Bruce had never seen it necessary to explain his absences from the village, or suggest that Jonathan keepan eye on things or, heaven forbid, ask his old chum to keep him informed when he was away. And that was often. Bruce spent time in Edinburgh, confiding often enough with Robert, his old friend from the service, delving into matters though he’d been out of it all long enough himself. Of course, with the events of the last year or so…
    Then there were his “interests” in the States. Kept an apartment there, he did. Well, money made money, and that was a fact.
    Hell, who had known when he would return this time. It was all legitimate that he hadn’t said a word to the new folk about there being a real Bruce. And those folk had, amusingly enough, done real work at the place. Bruce sure hadn’t kept up the place. In fact, there were times when it seemed that he hated the castle and the great forest surrounding it, even the village itself.
    That, of course, had to do with Maggie….
    â€œWell, old boy,” he said aloud softly, “at least you had her once. She loved you, she did. She was my friend, but she loved you.”
    Maggie had been gone a very long time. There was no sense thinking about those days anymore.
    Impatiently Jonathan stood, bringing along his tea as he walked to the window. There it was, the castle on the hill. Bruce’s castle. Bruce was the MacNiall. The bloody MacNiall. Laird MacNiall.
    â€œTo you, you bloody bastard! These are not the old days, my friend. I am not a subject, a serf, a servant. I’m the law here, the bloody law.”
    He stared at the castle and the forest, the sun shining on the former, a shadow of green darkness enveloping the latter.
    â€œThe bloody law!”
    A crooked grin split his lips.
    â€œY’may be the MacNiall, the bloody great MacNiall, but I am the law. I have that power. And when it’s necessary for the law to come down, well…friend or nae, I will be that power!”

4
    â€œW hat are we going to do about tonight? ” Gina asked Toni.
    They were alone in the kitchen. Gina had been the first up. Ever the consummate businesswoman, she had apparently been worrying about the tour they had planned for Saturday night since waking up. In fact, she might not even have slept.
    Toni was still feeling fairly haggard herself. When she woke, she had found the chair empty and the dividing doors shut. She’d tapped lightly at the bathroom door, but there had been no answer. She had entered, locked the other side, gotten ready and unlocked it. She hadn’t heard a sound and assumed that he was at last sleeping. The night seemed a blur to her now.
    Even the absolute terror that had awakened her seemed to have faded. And yet…something lingered. A very deep unease.
    â€œToni, what on earth are we going to do?” Gina repeated.
    â€œMaybe he’ll just let us have our group in,” she said.
    Gina folded her hands in front of her on the kitchen table, looking at Toni. “We could have had our buttsout on the street last night. You have to quit aggravating the guy.”
    â€œWait just a minute! I was actually in the right last night. How did we know—until the constable came—that he really was who he said he was.”
    â€œYou have to quit being so hostile to him,” Gina insisted.
    â€œI talked to him again last night. And I wasn’t hostile,” Toni told Gina.
    Gina instantly froze. “You…talked to him