The Dream Catcher by Marie Laval Page A

mantelpiece to stop himself falling. His heart galloped and beads of perspiration pearled on his forehead.
    â€˜About why you’re as pale as a corpse and need to hold on to that mantelpiece for dear life, for example? You’re dizzy, aren’t you?’
    â€˜So what if I am?’ Bruce tightened his grip on the oak mantelpiece.
    â€˜What else is wrong?’ Kilroy asked.
    Bruce snorted.
    â€˜Let’s see. Where shall I start? Headaches, insomnia, nightmares, memory loss, heart pounding like I’m charging on a god-damned battlefield… Oh, and I forgot the visions of mayhem and destruction and the voices of the dead calling to me even when I’m awake. You see, it’s nothing your tonic or a tumbler of whisky can’t cure,’ he finished.
    Immediately, he let out a ragged sigh and added. ‘Sorry, Kilroy. I’m being an ass.’
    He took a deep breath. The weight on his chest shifted. The dizziness eased off and his heartbeat slowed, returning to normal.
    â€˜These attacks, do they occur at any particular time of the day or night? After you’ve been riding hard or engaged in strenuous work? Or do they strike even when you’re resting? Are they getting worse, more frequent?’
    â€˜Forget it. I’ll be all right.’ Bruce shook his head, already regretting having said so much. Kilroy would never leave him in peace now.
    He could have answered yes to all of the doctor’s questions. The symptoms were indeed getting worse and more frequent. His mind was playing so many tricks on him these days, he had probably just imagined seeing the Algerian girl in Inverness. Yes, that’s what it was. It didn’t make any sense otherwise.
    Perhaps the time had come to put someone in charge of the estate, ready to take over. MacBoyd would be the best choice. They’d been friends since they were boys. Together they’d ride across the heather and wild thyme-covered moors, fish in burns or hidden creeks, and dive in deep lochs set like gems in empty glens. They climbed up the rocky slopes of Ben Hope in the summertime, watched eagles soar in the vast blue sky, camped out in the open at night and dreamt under the stars of adventure and girls.
    That was before his grandfather sent him away to the army.
    Yes, MacBoyd would take over. His grandfather would have approved. In more ways than one, his friend had been more of a grandson to Doughall McGunn than he ever had.
    â€˜I don’t understand why you’re being so evasive,’ Kilroy said. ‘I know what strain you’ve been under. It can’t have been easy for you to go through the enquiry at Whitehall after fighting so hard in the Punjab, and listen to these fools blaming you for the debacle at Ferozeshah and Sobraon when they were nowhere near the battlefield.’
    He must have seen the dangerous warning in Bruce’s eyes because he stopped short.
    â€˜And you haven’t had an easy time here either, with all the new people coming from Westmore and the financial pressure on the estate.’
    Bruce’s face hardened. He walked across the study and opened the door.
    â€˜I said I’d be fine. Listen, can you keep Lady McRae company tonight?’
    â€˜Where are you going?’
    â€˜To the harbour, where the Sea Eagle docked earlier today to carry out repairs. I heard that Angus Mackay was causing trouble again, trying to get villagers to attack the ship and set it alight.’ He shook his head. ‘Poor man. He is overcome by grief and claims that Rose McRae and the crew were responsible for throwing Fennella and Malika overboard after killing them on the Sea Eagle . It’s all nonsense, of course, but I’d better go down there and make sure Captain Kennedy and his crew are safe.’
    The wind had blown the clouds away, but despite the stars, the night seemed as dark and desolate as her heart. Malika was dead. Her mutilated body lay on a cold slab in the