Connie C. Scharon - Highland Legends 02

by Phantom Bride

  "Liam, what is it?" Devon asked. "Oh, it's my careless tongue again. Please forgive me for calling you by other than your given name. I meant no offense by it," she continued. He held up his hand for her to stop.

  "I'm not angry with you, Devon, just lost in my own thoughts. I apologize for being so distant."

  "Perhaps if something troubles you, I could help."

  He gave her small smile. "I wondered what beauty you hide from my eyes with that awful piece of netting," he confessed. "Unless you're ready to reveal yourself to me, there's little you can do to ease my curiosity."

  Devon sucked in her breath. "Why do you insist on seeing something that will cause you to turn away from me?"

  He stepped closer and ran his hand up under her covering to stroke her soft cheek. "If your deformity is so bad, how can you feel so beautiful?" he asked in a breathless whisper. "Share all of yourself with me. I'll cherish every part of you."

  He gave his deep, erotic promise and moved his hand to lift away the veil, but she cried out as if physically hurt by his tender assault. Dropping his hand to his side, he turned his back to her, a wash of emotion clouding his mind. "Devon please," he whispered. "I'm trying so hard to understand, help me."

  Liam felt her soft hand on his shoulder and his whole body shuddered with an aching desire to possess her. Her voice was shaky when she replied. "I'll try to shed my veil for you this evening… but I beg you not to force the issue if I suddenly lack the courage of my conviction."

  "Tonight," he breathed, cautiously turning back to face her. Her veiled head nodded in the affirmative. "Oh Devon," he murmured, pulling her into his arms. "Let me love you now." Before she could respond, he lifted her to him, finding her soft lips beneath the covering and seducing them to a fiery response.

  Fear of his power over her rose up in Devon's chest. She felt her whole body bending to his tender caress. Panicky, she planted her hands on his muscular chest and pushed away. "There's no time now," she insisted breathlessly. "It's nearly the dinner hour. Later tonight, I promise."

  Liam took a deep breath and stared into the filmy material obscuring her from view. "I'll hold you to your promise my love, and I'll pray with the removal of this flimsy barrier will come the openness we need to find the happiness we both deserve."

  He released her slowly, letting her body brush intimately against him as he dropped her gently to the floor. "I've arranged a rather strange dinner party this evening."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I've invited all the people I consider suspects in Fenella's murder and the attempted poisonings."

  "You what?" She whirled away from him. "Well, I'm sure to be included then, aren't I?"

  "Devon," Liam protested. "Don't take offense to my plan. I seek to clear you, not convict you."

  "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "Perhaps it's a good idea. No one would like this put behind us more than me."

  Liam looked at her, her choice of words haunting him with their reminder of the scrap of paper by the wine bottle. He sucked in his breath and took her arm. "If you're ready, I think it's time. May I tell you that you look absolutely ravishing this evening. I cannot wait until we again find ourselves in the privacy of our chamber. With any luck we may sleep in peace this evening, the murderer exposed."

  Devon cocked her head and looked up at him. "Do you have some clue that will help you discern the true villain?"

  "Aye, my love," he replied with a smile. Taking her arm firmly, he led her out of the room.

  A table was set by the hearth of the great hall and most of Liam's guests had arrived. Conversation stopped abruptly when Liam and Devon entered.

  "So good to see you up and about," Claire said with a sardonic smile. "In spite of your wife's attempts to rid herself of you," she added.

  Liam shot her an annoyed glare and Bryce grinned. "You should heed the Duchess," Bryce offered. "I still have some questions about my brother's unfortunate demise." He gave Devon an appraising leer.

  "These attacks on my wife won't be tolerated," Liam warned, fixing his jaw menacingly. "Besides, it's my hope I'll be able to sort out some of the mysteries surrounding Dunsmore Heath this evening. I believe all your accusations may be laid to rest." Liam felt Devon trying to back away, but her strength was no match for his and he held her firmly in place. Leaning down, he whispered into her veil. "I'll protect you at all cost."

  Nigel cleared his throat. "Milord, do you have some clue as to Fenella's murderer or the culprit in the poisonings?"

  "Yes," Liam replied, guiding Devon to a seat near his chair. "But I'll wait until everyone is here before I explain what we'll be doing this evening."

  Devon's eyes shifted around the table. Claire Hartgrove and Garyth were on one side separated by Nigel and Bryce. She noted Claire and Garyth looked at each other with cold disdain, a far cry from an evening not so long ago. Malcolm sat at the end of the table opposite Liam, and there were two empty seats between her and Lord Wycliff.

  The door to the great hall opened and Elspeth walked in with Archie on her arm. Decked out in finery befitting people well beyond their station, they came to the table. Liam stood and motioned them to the two empty seats.

  "You can't be serious!" Bryce growled, rising from the table in anger. "You invite my whore and your stableman to dine in the company of lords and ladies? You must be mad!"

  Claire rose to her feet, planting herself at Bryce's side. "I, too, must object," she snapped. "I don't dine with the servant class."

  "Sit! Both of you," Liam ordered. "Allow me to explain my purpose, and then judge its merit for yourself." Eyeing him angrily, they sank to their seats. Liam motioned for Elspeth and Archie to sit and cleared his throat. "I believe the murderer is at this table."

  Claire gasped and brought her fingers to her lips in shock. "Liam darling, how can you ask me to sit with such a person?" she cried, moving her hand to stroke Liam's muscular arm.

  He pulled away from her caress. "Claire, you miss the point. You're all suspects."

  "Ridiculous!" Bryce said with a snort. "I've already proved I couldn't have done the deed."

  "Have you?" Liam questioned. "Or is it more than coincidence you're the one with an alibi?"

  "You bastard."

  "Enough, I would hear more from Laird Liam," Lord Wycliff said. "Have you any proof for these wild accusations?"

  "I have one clue, found under Fenella's body, and unknown to anyone but me. While we eat, I'd be interested in hearing the whereabouts of each person at the table during the night of Fenella's murder. After dinner, I'll reveal what I found at the murder scene."

  "I'll see your evidence now!" Malcolm raged. "You play with all of us, and I for one, fail to see the humor in it."

  "There is no humor intended Malcolm," Liam said quietly. "I have only a clue to offer. It could prove to be quite useless, but… maybe it will solve this one mystery at least."

  "Are you saying you think there was more than one person involved, one committing the murder, and one attempting to poison you and Malcolm?" Wycliff queried.

  "The poisonings present more of a puzzle than the murder. In Malcolm's case, we don't know if he was the intended victim. It may have been for Devon and me, or Bryce. Perhaps someone doctored the wine thinking Bryce meant to drink it himself, and then Bryce gave it to us. This foiled the plan. If it wasn't for Devon and me, it could be the culprit did his deed after Malcolm had it in his possession. I was the only clearly intended victim."

  The servants arrived in the room carrying heaping platters of food, and Liam grinned. "Eat hearty," he advised. "After dinner you can each try to prove your innocence."

  Initially there was some fidgeting, but Liam began his meal and eventually the rest followed suit. "Milord, I should like to thank you for tryin' to find my mother's killer," Elspeth said, smiling into Liam's dark eyes.

  "Little fool," Bryce admonished. "He suspects you."

  "I think Laird Liam hasn't ruled out any of us," Garyth commented.

 
"Well, I certainly didn't kill this Fenella person, I wasn't here when she died," Claire said.

  "Yes," Liam agreed. "But I haven't ruled you out as a suspect in my poisoning. I think you'd do anything to separate me from my wife."

  "Kindly enlighten me as to how I would have accomplished this foul deed," Claire retorted angrily.

  "The night you arrived you wasted no time seducing Garyth so you could glean all possible information from him. Undoubtedly, you heard of Malcolm's poisoning and Bryce's groundless rumors about Devon murdering her first husband. A woman as clever as you could have easily attempted to kill me and been fully prepared to save me at the last minute and cast blame on my wife. You'd accomplish two things at once with this treachery."

  Claire dropped her gaze to her lap momentarily, and then glared at Liam. "No doubt you have equally creative explanations for everyone at the table."

  Lord Wycliff gaped at his host in amazement. "You cannot leave me in the dark," he insisted. "Go around the table and tell each person's reason."

  "Yes Liam, tell me why I could be the villain," Bryce said with a sneer.

  "Why Bryce, you surprise me. Your motives were more direct. You have wanted my wife for years. Even when she was married to your brother you coveted her."

  "Liar!"

  "Would you deny what everyone sees?"

  "I wanted her, so what?"

  "By casting suspicion Devon was involved in your brother's murder, you isolated her completely from the people around her. Then I came and foiled your plan to marry Devon. In anger, you sought to poison us in revenge. Fenella never passed up an opportunity to be paid for her silence, perhaps she guessed your motives, and you killed her."

  "So, in one swoop you pin everything on me. But you forget I was in Glenfinnan the night Fenella was killed," Bryce reminded Liam.

  "It's not so far away you couldn't have made your presence known, then come back to do the deed and returned," Liam pointed out.

  "Well, I'd like to know why I was included in this farce," Nigel piped in.

  A slow smile crossed Liam's face when he looked at the man. "Because of your problem of course—the problem Fenella tried to help you with, then threatened to reveal to everyone. Maybe you tried to do away with your domineering cousin with the poison wine. After all, you would be his only heir."

  "And what would my motive be for killing you?" Nigel asked.

  "Your suspicion that I was on to you," Liam replied evenly.

  "What is Nigel's problem?" Lord Wycliff asked.

  "I won't discuss it in front of the ladies," Liam replied. "It's sufficient he knows what I speak of."

  "Well, it appears to be my turn," Garyth said, shooting Liam an angry look.

  "You also covet my wife. Under the mistaken impression she killed Frazer, you would do anything to protect her, even commit murder."

  "I suppose that would be my motive as well, protecting my daughter," Malcolm interrupted.

  Liam nodded slowly. "Exactly, misguided though it would be."

  Lord Wycliff leaned back in his chair. "This is most entertaining. Am I also to be a suspect?"

  "No," Liam assured him. "You, of all those seated here, had no reason or opportunity to kill Fenella or poison anyone."

  Archie shifted uncomfortably. "And I'm here because I'd do all of it to protect Devon?"

  "Aye," Liam replied.

  "Then I should like to confess," Archie announced. "I did it all."

  "I think not, but I appreciate your loyalty to my wife."

  "What of this young beauty?" Lord Wycliff asked, gazing at Elspeth. "I couldn't have heard right earlier, surely such a lovely lass is not lying on her back to make a living."

  "Elspeth's virginity was sold by her stepmother, Fenella, to Frazer Forbes when Elspeth was twelve. Because of Fenella, Elspeth suffered rape and abuse at the hands of both of the Forbes brothers. Elspeth, more than anyone, had reason to kill Fenella, but the timing of the act leads me to suspect others more strongly." Elspeth's face colored with a blush when Liam made his statement.

  "Dear God, what rank debauchery," Lord Wycliff announced, reaching over to squeeze Elspeth's hand.

  "Thank you for yer confidence in my innocence, Laird Liam," Elspeth murmured.

  "And what of your lovely wife," Bryce asked. "Do you have confidence in her innocence?"

  "I don't believe Devon is a murderess, but let's examine her possible motives. Devon had good reason to kill her abusive first husband, or Bryce, who sought to take Frazer's place in her bed. But Devon loved and trusted Fenella. She was unaware of the woman's evil side."

  "How do you know this?" Wycliff asked.

  "Devon sent for Fenella to cure Malcolm when she found him ill, but Fenella was killed the night before. As for the rest, the same evil man that raped Elspeth abused and tormented Devon. When she grew heavy with Frazer's child, he beat her so she would lose the baby. If Devon was capable of murder, she would have killed Frazer."

  "Maybe that's just what she did," Bryce accused.

  "If you believe that, it gives you more reason to be responsible for everything that's happened."

  "Dinner is over. I would see your clue now," Bryce insisted.

  Liam motioned for the servants to clear away the empty plates. A hush fell over the group as he fished in his pocket and hid the tiny bead in his hand. In a deliberate motion, Liam sent the single, gold button rolling across the table. "Fenella plucked this from her murderer's clothing while she struggled under the knife. We'll go as a group and check each person's clothing," Liam announced.

  "This is preposterous!" Bryce argued. "The button could have dropped off any one of us while we innocently visited Fenella."

  "Perhaps," Liam allowed. "But it was closely enmeshed with her brutalized body, and I believe it belongs to the murderer." Nigel shot Bryce a look of sheer terror. "We'll check your room first, Nigel," Liam said.

  "It isn't mine," Nigel objected.

  "Fine, then you won't mind if we check."

  The group headed up the stairs that led to the sleeping chambers occupied by Nigel and Bryce. When they came to the door, Nigel pushed past Liam and led them all into his room. In frenzy, he began throwing all of his clothing in a heap on the bed. Liam picked up each piece one at a time and examined it for matching buttons. They finished in short order and Liam turned his attention to Bryce.

  "It seems your cousin doesn't have what I'm looking for," Liam said quietly. "You're next."

  Bryce shot Liam a hateful scowl and led the group to his room where the same search ensued. They inspected all his garments and Bryce turned on Liam. "You owe me an apology," he announced with a sneer.

  "Milord," Elspeth interrupted. "He also keeps clothes in this trunk by the door."

  "You little bitch," Bryce choked, moving to backhand the girl. Liam caught his hand mid-stroke and twisted it painfully back to his side.

  Jerking Bryce by the collar, Liam threw the man against the wall. "I will tolerate no more abuse of women at Dunsmore Heath."

  Malcolm threw back the lid of the trunk and tossed the garments to Liam one at a time. In the very bottom of the trunk was a velvet vest with one gold button missing. Liam scowled as he held the button found with Fenella up to the others… a perfect match. He showed those gathered around him. Bryce broke for the door, but Malcolm grabbed him.

  Wycliff looked questioningly at Liam. "Lock up Bryce until we can have an inquiry," Liam ordered.

  "He does have witnesses that say he was in Glenfinnan that night," Lord Wycliff reminded Liam. "I'll not find him guilty until I've heard all the evidence."

  "I'm in agreement, but he's become my prime suspect. There's no need to search further. I suggest we all retire. Garyth, please place Bryce under house arrest."

  "With pleasure, Milord," Garyth responded, dragging Bryce with him toward the dungeon.

  "You'll pay for this," Bryce railed. "I'm innocent, and when I'm exonerated, you'll all pay!"

  The group disbanded quietly,
each seeking the shelter of their chambers. Elspeth lingered briefly.

  "Milord, thank you," Elspeth murmured gratefully, staring with adoration into Liam's eyes.

  "It was my pleasure, Elspeth," Liam told her, gently grasping Devon's arm as he spoke. "Now if you'll excuse us, my wife and I have a few things of our own to take care of." With that, he wrapped his arm possessively around Devon and headed for their chamber.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Devon's heart thundered with anticipation as he led her through the door and pulled her into his arms. "Fulfill your promise and drop that ugly veil from your face," he urged, toying with the end of the netting obscuring her from him.

  Devon backed away hesitantly. "Please don't rush me," she begged.

  He moved toward her again, his body's urgency apparent in his voice. "Devon, I want you so badly… want to see your lovely eyes when we join our bodies in love. Don't deny me now. There's nothing left to threaten you."

  Gathering all her courage, Devon stopped her flight from him and allowed his muscular arms to encase her. She leaned her veiled head against his massive chest listening to the impatient rhythm of his heart. "I'm still afraid," she admitted. "You inflame me so completely…. all my protective barriers are washed away by your scalding touch. It frightens me to be so vulnerable… so out of control."

  "Would you deny me out of fear? All I want is to love you."

  In answer, Devon strained up on her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and brought her lips to his. He gave a satisfied groan as she played the aggressor in the intimacy of their kiss, her tongue flicking boldly inside his mouth to tease his impassioned response. She felt his whole body quiver. His hands raked over her, freeing her from her clothing so quickly she barely was aware of it slipping away. He stopped his tender assault and stepped back from her.

  "The veil," he whispered. "Remove the veil."

  Devon's hands were shaking. She stood with firelight bathing her creamy flesh, completely exposed except for her veiled head. She tried to make her hand tear away the covering, but it wouldn't move.