CHAPTER 3

The ball ended in the wee hours of the morning. Many of the guests left for their homes in nearby King's Lynn and the surrounding area. Those who had travelled from places further off, stayed at Houghton Hall – there was more than enough room to accommodate them.

Duncan went to bed alone, despite what he'd told Fitzcairn. His mind was filled with the image of the blonde beauty. It was as if the girl had cast a spell on him – ridiculous, but that was how it felt. For a while Duncan rolled around, thinking about the ball and the girl, wishing that he knew who she was and where her room was. Finally he fell asleep...

...and woke up again. Duncan managed to light the oil lamp beside his bed and glanced at the clock standing there – only six-thirty in the morning! A glance out the window confirmed that it was still dark outside.

Despite the amounts he'd drunk at the ball and his morning-hour bedtime, Duncan was wide awake, his mind filled by the image of the blonde girl. All he wanted to do was to get out of his room, to go looking for her, with or (but preferably!) without Fitz helping him. But Duncan knew that the hour was very early – even Horace Walpole would not forgive him for knocking on every door in the Hall in search of the girl. Until everyone was up and less hung-over, Duncan was stuck.

Duncan washed and dressed slowly, killing time. He heard the sounds of servants moving about quietly in the passage outside his room and knew that someone was awake, at least. But he kept to his room, waiting for more people to stir. He tried to be patient, tried to sit still and read a book he'd found in the Hall's library a few days before. But it was impossible. All he wanted to do was to find the girl whose beautiful face was burned into his memory, even if it was the last thing he ever did. He was also very much aware of the fact that should he go banging on her door at this hour, she would probably never speak to him again. And that would certainly be the end of him. Just knowing that she was somewhere in the building where he couldn't find her, was driving him crazy. He didn't even want to know what spending the rest of his life without her would be like...

Finally Duncan gave up. He leapt from his seat and flung the book onto the bed. Quickly he pulled on his boots, tied his sword belt around his waist and fastened his cloak around his neck.

He had to get out of the house!

The sky was lightening towards the east when Duncan stepped through a door and onto a gravel road that led from the Hall to the stables situated a short distance away. He walked through the stables' arched entrance and immediately felt more at ease when his eyes fell on the busy quadrangle beyond it. He was surrounded on all four sides by stables and other horse-related rooms. This was probably his favourite part of the entire Houghton Estate, filled with horses and men who didn't put on weird airs and graces, men who weren't afraid to get their hands dirty with work. A number of stable boys mucking out the stables and feeding the horses whose stables had already been cleaned. Duncan made his way across the yard toward the communal stable where his mare was housed, smiling and nodding greetings to those he passed on his way there.

It was quite dark in the stable, the only light coming from torches that burned in sconces set in the wall on Duncan's left. To his right were the horses, each in its own bay, blankets over their backs, their muzzles buried in bags of oats. It was quiet in the stable, the silence broken only by the occasional whinny and snort.

For the first time that morning Duncan felt at peace. He sighed contentedly and walked to his mare's bay.

The next instant the 'buzz' hit. Another Immortal!

Duncan had completely forgotten that there was a third Immortal at the castle! He'd been so lovesick over the girl that he had forgotten everything else! He could kick himself for letting down his guard.

A split second later the Highlander had his broadsword drawn and ready. Warily he looked around, peered into the dark corners as he passed them. He saw nobody, but the 'buzz' of another Immortal's presence remained.

"I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod," he called. "Show yourself."

Nothing happened.

Duncan took a few steps further into the stable, his eyes still searching. Again he said: "I am Duncan MacLeod. I mean no harm. Show yourself. Now!"

"So there really is second MacLeod roaming the world," a voice said behind him.

Duncan spun around and came face to face with the blonde girl from the ball! She stood in the doorway to the tack room, wearing a long white tunic over brown riding breeches, knee-high leather boots and a thick brown cloak. Her hair was pulled in an untidy ponytail in her neck. In one hand she held a bridle and reins. In the other hand was a curved Oriental-looking sword with a dragon's head on the pommel. It was raised defensively. Judging by the expression on her face, she knew how to use the blade too.

For a moment Duncan was too stunned to speak. This was the last thing he had expected.

The girl smiled slightly, but it didn't move into her eyes. "I was beginning to think Connor was just making all it up," she said. "Some Immortals do that, you know, make up family. It makes the world less lonely… For a while, at least."

Finally Duncan managed to find his voice. "You know Connor?" he asked in disbelief.

The girl nodded. "Well enough to know to pay attention when he does mention something or someone very close to him."

Duncan nodded. "He does keep himself to himself, doesn't he?"

The girl nodded again, then looked at Duncan's broadsword. "Well, are you going to use that or not? Or can I go riding now? I'd really like to be back here and changed into a dress before anyone wakes up and sees me dressed like a man!"

Horrified that he had a sword drawn on a woman, Duncan nodded quickly and lowered his blade. He hesitated a moment, then put the sword away in its scabbard.

The girl smiled and hid her own sword in the folds of her cloak. She hesitated for a moment as well, then said: "I am Catherine Langton. From nowhere in particular." Her eyes sparkled mischievously. "And I'm not here for your head!"

Duncan grinned. "That's good to know!" He stepped toward her, extending a hand. "I am Duncan MacLeod. Pleased to meet you, Miss Langton."

Catherine shook his hand, extremely aware of how gentle his strong hand was when he held hers. "Catherine, please... If you like you can call me Kate. Connor does."

Duncan winced before he could stop himself. Kate! Instantly he was reminded of Kate, the pre-Immortal girl he'd married, then killed on their wedding night in an attempt to capture her beauty and youth forever. And then he watched her come back to life and run into the night screaming...

Duncan shook his head in an effort to force the image out of his mind. He looked up to see Catherine frown worriedly. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I knew a Kate once... Nothing good came of that acquaintance..."

Catherine nodded slowly. Gently she squeezed his hand. "What is past is past," she said firmly. "I am a new Kate. A new acquaintance." She smiled again. "Come riding with me," she ordered. "I promise I won't take your head! And you can tell me about the Highlands of Scotland. I've only ever heard Connor's version of it!"

Duncan smiled and nodded. Catherine left to fetch the rest of her riding equipment from the tack room. For a moment the Highlander found himself alone with the horses, not quite believing what had just happened.