A Good Scot is Hard to Find (Something About a Highlander Book 2)

by Angeline Fortin

  Once he was out of sight, the starch that kept him so rigid fell away. One didn’t need a servant to spread a rumor when the biggest gossip in England and Scotland combined could be found in Argyll’s duchess. Even a command from His Grace wouldn’t hold her tongue. Finn had accomplished all he could hope for unless he wanted to slap his glove across Etteridge’s cheek. Had the bastard been solely to blame, he might have. As it was, gossip and social ostracization would fulfill whatever punishment the law did not. Marta would have her comeuppance. Etteridge as well.

  “Finlay?” The strident whisper came from the anteroom. It was Lady Etteridge. Come to make amends? Berate him? “Finlay!”

  He should walk away. He’d said everything he needed to. Finn would much rather return to Aila. And he would have, if he didn’t hear Aila in his head insisting that he let Marta have her say. Probably with some nonsense about always wondering what she might have said.

  With a suffering sigh, he walked into Marta’s line of sight. He would do no more to encourage her. She threw herself against him with a wail and proceeded to weep piteously. There’d been a time when he would have been moved by her tears. That time was long past.

  “How could you do such a thing to me?” She beat her fists against his chest ineffectually. “You’ve always been a terrible brute. This is your fault. All of it! And now this? How could you?”

  “How could ye?” Finn caught her by the shoulders and set her away from him. “How could ye leave yer own bairns like that?”

  It was a chance for her to prove his assumptions wrong.

  Marta sniffled and looked up at him, chin wobbling. “It was a mistake. A terrible mistake. When Etteridge came to Rossmore, I…I…”

  She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. It smacked of more drama than Aila had been able to summon, and his lass was a gifted performer.

  “Did he force ye?” he demanded. “Coerce ye in some way? Dinnae think of lying to me.”

  “I was lonely. Unappreciated.” Her expression hardened. “It’s your fault, really. Everything. Etteridge adored me. Lavished me with all the attention you did not. You never loved me.”

  “I tried.” It was all he could offer now. “Yer reasons are nae excuse for yer duplicity. Do ye have any idea how Niall and Effie grieved for ye? ’Tis only recently Effie has begun to smile again.”

  The weeping resumed. “I miss them terribly. Ye said they’re here? I want to see them.”

  Finn recoiled from the suggestion. “There is nae chance in hell that will happen. Ever. I’ll no’ have them confused by yer reappearance and I’ll no’ let them suffer when ye’re gone again.”

  “Perhaps I don’t have to leave. I can stay and we—”

  He stopped her right there. “There will never again be a moment’s time when there is such a thing as we. What there will be is a divorce proceeding—”

  “Divorce!” she gasped. “No! Think of the scandal!”

  “Think of the scandal of yer bigamy trial, Lady Etteridge,” he countered. “I suggest ye prepare yerself as best ye can.”

  Finn spun on his heel and walked away. This time when she called for him, he did not stop. It was time he put the past with all its hate and grief and vengeance behind him and look toward the future with a lighter heart.

  And he had much to look forward to.

  Bugger it, Ian would be pleased with himself.

  Chapter 34

  “I cannae believe ye jumped down here.”

  Aila climbed down the ladder to join Rab in a tunnel about six feet tall and dark as pitch beyond the radius of light from her phone. Finn would have to duck his head if he were to come down. As would Ian or Tris. Besides that, it was creepy as fuck. She’d been right to wait for the others to join her before searching for the treasure.

  Rab ran a few steps ahead until the blackness swallowed him and panic flared. “Rabbie! Come back!” Relief flooded her when he did just that. “Oh, thank God. I cannae do this right now, laddie. Sorry, insulting I ken, but I need more than ye to stomach this.”

  She glanced back at the ladder and to the German shepherd. She really did need to work on these stupid impulses. Rab had to weigh between five and six stone if not more. There was no chance she could lift him off his feet much less heave him over her head.

  “What were ye thinking? Better yet, what the hell was I thinking?” Putting the poor lad’s need above her own, she set her phone on the ground so that the light shown upward. Better than leaving him in the dark. Going to the ladder, she put a foot on the bottom most rung. “I’m sorry, baby. I’ll go find one or two of the men to get ye out. Stay p— Och, of course, ye’ll stay put. How about try no’ to panic?”

  “Don’t fret, Mistress Marshall, you’ll not be leaving him alone.”

  Aila gaped up through the opening into the ominous face of one Mr. Derne, then to the equally chilling barrel of the gun he had aimed at her. Gah, she knew he didn’t like her, but this was a bit much. He could not possibly know of her suspicions.

  Of course, it was Derne. A child could have made the connection. Frankly, she was surprised no one had seen it. The way he harassed Boyce with his visits to the mill? He had to be the one behind the miller’s death.

  Dismay chilled her. If he did suspect that she knew the truth, what better way to get rid of her? “Please dinnae lock me down here.” She couldn’t hide the desperation in her voice.

  “Stupid girl, I’m not going to lock you in. Now step aside.”

  Keeping the pistol pointed in her general direction, Derne descended the ladder. Rab’s vicious bark reverberated through the tunnel and he lunged forward, snapping at the old man’s heels.

  “Control your beast, Mistress Marshall,” Derne called above the uproar and trained the gun on the dog. “Or I will.”

  Panic flared, brighter than it had when he’d aimed the weapon at her. Aila caught Rab around the neck and dropped to her knees to anchor him in place. Another aspect of Donell’s plan occurred to her. To take Rab for protection.

  If that old dobber knew this had been coming, she was going to kill him.

  If Derne didn’t kill her first.

  “Rab, stop!” He continued to snarl, trying to lunge out of her grip. She buried her face in his scruff and held on. “Please stop.”

  Because she had no doubt Derne would do it, the vile man.

  “Did I not warn you?” he sneered as his feet found the floor. “That if I saw that beast in the castle again I’d have him on a spit?”

  “Actually, as I recall it, yer threat was that if he saw him again, ye would see me sacked,” she retorted, having subdued Rab to a menacing growl. “The other was a separate warning entirely.”

  “Yes, right you are. How fortunate for me you did not heed my warning. And lucky for you I came prepared.” He tossed her a length of rope. “Tie him tight. If he gets loose, I will not hesitate to shoot him.”

  Taking it, she looped it through the metal ring on Rab’s collar. His tags jangled as she did so. Aye, she’d be ugly crying if she lost her dog, more if she were responsible for his death. She should never have come down here alone.

  “I knew the moment I saw you at Boyce’s mill that you would solve my dilemma for me, Mistress Marshall.” The despicable man glanced around the small space, at her phone, and then squinted down the obscured tunnel. “I’ve been following you for days waiting for you to lead me here. I must thank you for accommodating me. Should you choose to cooperate further, I may even decide to let you live. Now pick that up.”

  He toed her phone then stepped back. Winding the rope around her arm to make a short leash to keep Rab with her, she crept forward and grabbed it. Oh, for a world one could dial 999 in!

  “Now move!”

  Terror streaked through her, combined with something she’d couldn’t quite put her finger on. It would serve him right if she turned Rab on him, let the dog tear him to bits. There was no chance she’d take the risk with Rab’s safety, however. Aila would bet Donell hadn�
��t anticipated that either. She followed the command and pulled Rab down the tunnel with her which was no mean feat as the dog continued to bare his teeth and lunge back at Derne.

  “Why would ye think I kent anything about it? I’d only just met Mr. Boyce.”

  “And he liked you. That’s when I knew.” Derne’s foul chuckle drew the darkness in closer. “Seeing you outside earlier was a bit of a revelation; I’ll admit I hadn’t expected that. That ridiculous costume.”

  She almost tripped over her own feet.

  “Yes, I recognized you,” he went on. “Even if I did not possess an excellent eye for detail, your beast would have given you away. Fine work on your disguise, by the by. Worthy of The Old Vic.”

  “Why hurt Mr. Boyce? He was a nice man.”

  “He was stubborn. Even more so than his father,” Derne snapped. “For months, I’ve cajoled and threatened to no avail.”

  A wooden door blocked the tunnel. Boyce had said the necklace hid the secret to the truth. She was curious to see what truth looked like, and was resentful of the fact that she couldn’t enjoy the moment. She stopped to glance over her shoulder. “All for some stupid necklace? It’s practically worthless.”

  “For the key.” Derne gestured to the door with the barrel of the gun. “Do not play stupid with me, girl. It’s taken me fifty years to get here. To discover this place even existed, that the necklace given to Boyce’s father was actually a map to locate it. My patience has run thin. Now open it.” When Aila hesitated, he aimed the barrel toward Rab. “Open it!”

  She bristled under his derision. Admittedly fear might be slowing her thought processes a fraction, but she wasn’t stupid. His finger tightened on the trigger.

  “Ye leave him alone!” She searched her pocket and pulled the key out frantically. There was something so wrong about all of this. What? “I’m doing it. I’m doing it.”

  “I’ve searched the castle high and low for this place. I was so close I could taste it.”

  That explained why he was lurking in the passage the night she’d left the castle. He was right. He’d been close. Better for her if he’d found it that night.

  While she fumbled with the lock, he savored his moment of glory. “To discover it was Boyce and his father before him who held the secret? Given to the elder for exposing me so long ago! I may have been stuck here for fifty years, but he came to a rather abrupt, tragic end.”

  An admission of murder? Chills snaked down her spine. Hopefully he wouldn’t be inclined to go to such extremes again.

  “Those plans of the castle the first duke set aside?” Derne went on conversationally. “It’s taken me all this time to convince the consecutive dukes to carry on with them. To build the new castle so I could destroy the old one. Brick by brick if need be to find my way out of this hell hole. And now, finally, I will have my reward!”

  All that was missing was the villain’s maniacal laughter as the door swung open.

  And the treasure revealed. No immediate revelations. No Cave of Wonders. It was a bit of a letdown, to be honest.

  “In! In!” Derne prodded her in the back with the barrel of the gun, careful not to get too close to Rab. “Into that far corner with you, where I can see you.”

  Aila dragged Rab along with her, the dog fighting her with each step. A dozen or more plain leather trunks of varying sizes were set around the small room. Some very small, some the size of steamer trunks. No mountains of gold coins to roll in or gold statues. No rare jewels sparkling in the light.

  Until Derne kicked over the first trunk, at any rate. What a treasure it was! Aila couldn’t help but gape as coins spilled onto the floor. The second, more of the same. The third was a combination of jewelry and gold.

  “Why kill Boyce?”

  “What?” He tipped over another. “Where is it? Where is it!”

  Unlike her, her captor was not thrilled by the sight. No pause to ogle the bounty, no hint of glee. What was he looking for, then? He continued to kick them open, proving himself to be rather spry for such an old man. Even so, Aila thought she should be able to take him in a fair fight. If she could get the gun away from him.

  Unfortunately, even while Derne rifled through the bounty spilled on the ground, he kept the gun pointed at them or close enough that she was hesitant to release Rab, though the dog was eager to take a go at the fiend. He strained against the lead until the ropes burned her arms, salivating to sink his teeth into Derne’s stringy calf.

  The next trunk got the same treatment, this time revealing the moth-eaten remains of military uniforms.

  And swords.

  If she could get her hands on one, she could even up this fight. Aila inched toward them.

  Another trunk was upended. “Here, girl, shine that light over here.”

  She turned the phone in his direction. Then it hit her, what had been bothering her the entire time. He hadn’t given the source of their light more than a cursory glance. The Old Vic theater in London wasn’t set to open for another sixty or seventy years. And he was holding a compact pistol in a time where they didn’t exist.

  Reveal the truth.

  “Ye’re from the future, aren’t ye? From my time?”

  “I’m far beyond you, stupid girl,” he spat out, digging with one hand through the myriad of trinkets dumped from the next trunk. “I’m only here because I was sent to assure that the first duke was not given his peerage. He would have gone on to even greater things given the proper guidance.”

  He’d better stop calling her stupid. “Ye’re no’ too bright yerself if ye’re still here after — what was it? — fifty years?”

  “Only because the old bastard took my controller when the elder Boyce found me out. Wanted to string me up as a witch,” he spat out as he moved to the next trunk. “But they paid, the both of them. I had to wait out a whole generation and slit a few throats to regain a position in the castle without suspicion. Years of searching for this room.”

  Aila crept toward the sword. “Did ye ever stop and think that if someone wanted ye to return to yer time, they would have sent someone back for ye? Face it, ye’re expendable.”

  He turned to scowl at her and she froze. “You know nothing. You cannot even see how demeaning your behavior here has been.” With a cringe-worthy leer, he waved the gun in her face. “I’ve amused myself with the locals a time or two myself over the years, but never with such zeal as you.”

  Her cheeks burned. Not with embarrassment but with loathing. “I’m surprised ye could convince any woman to sleep with ye. Och, is that what this money is for? Nay, that would only get ye a few hours. At most.”

  His leer turned to a sneer. He lashed out, striking her low on the temple with the butt of the pistol. Aila stumbled back and lost her grip on the rope. Rab lunged forward and knocked the elderly man to the ground. Derne’s screams filled the room.

  Then gunshots.

  Her baby yelped with pain while Derne scrambled out from beneath him bleeding heavily from the side of his face. He crawled forward on his hands and knees. Then groped through the blanket of treasure beneath him.

  “Aha, I’ve got it!” She hardly heard him over the ringing in her ears.

  Without enough time to unsheathe the sword she’d grabbed, Aila swung it like a cricket bat at his head just as he straightened in triumph. Her blow hit him in the ribs below his upraised arm and he staggered to the side before falling on his back.

  Rab was on him again in an instant. “Rabbie!”

  Another shot reverberated through the small chamber, adding to the cacophony bouncing around her head. Like ripples in a pool.

  “Nay!” She ran toward him only to realize the dog was still alive and had his jaws locked around the man’s arm. Unfortunately, Rab had gotten the wrong arm. Another shot rang out and this time the dog released Derne with an aggrieved series of yaps.

  “Nay!” Aila caught him as he staggered to the side and pulled him on to her lap. The dog whined and peered up at her with wide plea
ding eyes. Blood seeped from a wound on his hindquarters. Her heart bled, as well. She had no idea how bad it was.

  “Ye shot a dog, ye bloody bastard! Who’s the beast now?”

  “You set him upon me, I ought to shoot you as well.” The old man climbed to his feet and pointed the gun at her while he cradled his injured arm against his narrow chest. She should have been able to take him, the withered auld bawbag.

  With Rab’s heavy weight draped over her legs and Derne armed with what was clearly a multi-shot weapon, she wouldn’t get another chance.

  “Ye willnae get away with this! Ye were found out once before and ye will be again!”

  “In ten minutes, I’ll be gone from this place for good,” he spat out. “How I would love to be there when Donell learns that his weak counteroffensive has failed.”

  Donell? Hadn’t she specifically asked whether there was something more than finding the treasure he wanted from her? Yet here she was, facing an assassin, righting wrongs he’d denied existed. He really was all about manipulation. Even armed with the foreknowledge of his wily ways, he’d managed to play her like a character in a live action video game. Och, she was going to kill him when she got back.

  Aila hardly had time to consider what she might do if she ever got the chance. Derne picked up her phone and backed away toward the door. Realizing his intent, her heart tripped over itself and she lunged out from under Rab who struggled to his feet. “Nay! Dinnae lock me in here!”

  No one knew where she was. There would be no one to save her.

  No light to banish the dark.

  She scrambled to her feet and leapt forward, tackling him back against the door hard enough to hear the whoosh of breath come out of him. He didn’t release his hold on the pistol. Aila jabbed her elbow into his jaw and tried to pry it out of his skeletal grip. Gasping for air, he wouldn’t give it up. He pulled the trigger, the blast deafening. She barely heard her own cry as burning pain shot through her thigh. Derne shook her off and leveled the gun on her as he backed away.

  Even in pain, bleeding, an evil smile stretched his lips, rendered even more grotesque by the light shining upward from his hand. Catching his breath, he turned the phone over and looked at the screen. “I’ve been stuck in this time for close to fifty years with no technology, no medical care. My biggest fear has been that I’d get cancer or have a heart attack. The butchers here would be able to do nothing for me other than finish the work. Even after all that time, I recall the importance of charging my electronics. Twelve percent.” He clicked his tongue contemptuously. “Now, now, Mistress Marshall, one must always be smart enough to charge their batteries before going into the dark.”