Highlander's Trials of Fire: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel

by Lydia Kendall

Chapter 26

  Jonet was fast. He had known that quite early in their acquaintance, ever since that race. Back then, she had been driven by the need to win, to finally have a reason to remove him from her life. Now, she was driven by the need for answers, a quiet desperation that grew stronger with every step upon the cold floor.

  Her hair flew behind her like a dark cape, a magnificent figure darting through the hallways, not caring who saw her. It was very early in the morning, hours before the break of dawn, and it seemed the festivities had only recently concluded. Even so, there was a thrum of activity throughout the Castle, as if all the servants had been awakened in response to the nature of the unrest of the Laird and his family.

  Dougal’s death seemed to have opened their eyes—or rather loosened the tongues of those who might have known the purpose of the investigation. As Matthew rushed to follow on Jonet’s heels, he managed to catch snippets of whispers, of open wonder as to whether the girl they had known for so long was truly capable of such a thing.

  If Jonet were privy to the whispers, she did not make it obvious. She continued racing down to the dungeons, her steps firm and quick. Matthew did not have to work to keep up, but his chest clenched with unease, not knowing what they would be running towards.

  The dungeons were dark and dusty. The strong scent of mold slammed into them both when they arrived, slowing their steps. The distant glow of torchlight shone on the rusting metal bars barring whatever prisoners were kept there. It also revealed the location of the supposed culprit and as they drew closer, Matthew saw that the Laird and Jonathan was already there.

  The Laird was shaking in anger. His body appeared to vibrate, a force that would undoubtedly explode at any moment. Jonathan stood a few steps behind him, as if he did not wish to be caught in the fire once he did.

  The lethal iciness resonated from the Laird as he stared at the woman before him. His silence, his fury… even Matthew was a little afraid.

  Jonet did not seem to notice. She rushed to his side, coming to a stop when she laid eyes on the maid. The maid looked disheveled, dressed in dark colors with an earsaid around her shoulders.

  “Where did ye find her?” Jonet asked, her voice a whisper.

  Jonathan was the one who answered, his voice echoing around the dungeons. “She was caught tryin’ to leave the village. She had taken one of the horses from the stables and had been gettin’ supplies before makin’ her escape. We caught her before that could happen.”

  The maid was shaking like a leaf. Her eyes darted from the Laird, to Jonet, even to Matthew, then back to the floor.

  “Do ye recognize her, Jonet?” Matthew asked, coming to her side.

  “Yer name is Jamilyn, isnae it?” She nodded slowly.

  “A-aye, Miss Jonet.”

  “She claims she dinnae do it.” The Laird’s voice was sharp, yet low. It commanded the attention of them all and another note of fear ran through Matthew. He could not tell what the Laird would do, now that his brother had fallen at the hands of the woman before him.

  “I dinnae, Me Laird!” Jamilyn rushed forward, grasping the bars. “Ye have to believe me.”

  “Then why were ye tryin’ to leave the village?” Matthew demanded. “Why did ye leave the Castle after Dougal was found?”

  “I thought ye would think it was me,” she declared. In the light of the torches, he could see tears streaming down her face. Yet her voice was strong. “I was the one who found Mr. Anderson. I thought that ye would think I killed them if ye realized I found Mr. MacTavish as well. I grew frightened.”

  She surely looked the part. With a trembling hand, she wiped the tears from her cheeks, only for them to be replaced a second later. Matthew glanced at the Laird to see that his face was unmoving.

  “Have ye already spoken to the brigands?” Jonet turned to her father. “Do they recognize her?”

  “Nay,” said the Laird. “They daenae. They claim that they dinnae get a good enough look at her to ken for sure who the woman was.”

  Jamilyn was certainly petite. That did not work well in her favor.

  “Please!” Her voice came out as a rasp as she sank to her knees. “Ye have to believe me. I dinnae do it. I dinnae kill anyone!”

  “Silence!”

  She squeaked at the Laird’s scathing hiss. Her eyes grew round with fear as she stared up at him.

  “Ye have been found guilty for murder, lass. And I will have ye punished.”

  With such a cryptic sentencing, the Laird stalked away. After a moment, so did Jonathan. If he had said those words merely to strike more fear into Jamilyn’s heart, he had succeeded. Matthew had no doubt that she would spend the better part of the night thinking about all the ways he would try to punish her. All the ways she could be put to death.

  Jonet did not move, so neither did Matthew. Jonathan left the torch behind, casting a faint glow over the three of them. Jamilyn rose to her feet, gripping the bars once again.

  “Please, Miss Jonet,” she begged. “Ye have to believe me.”

  “How?” Jonet sounded broken, as if she wanted a reason to believe her. “How can I believe ye? What proof do ye have that ye dinnae do it?”

  Jamilyn’s mouth opened andthen closed. Her shoulders sagged with defeat.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Jonet.” She began to sob, wiping desperately at her eyes though that did not stop her tears. “But I really dinnae do it. Please…”

  Jonet took a step back. She looked pained and unsure. She took another step back, then another. She was retreating, putting distance between her and the maid who claimed innocence. Without words, she told Jamilyn that she did not believe. Or perhaps, she simply could not.

  Whichever it was, Jamilyn broke. She slid to the floor again, stifling her cries behind her hand. Jonet turned on her heels and walked away, plunging herself into the darkness of the dungeons. She made her way out safely, Matthew behind her.

  The moment she was out, she let out a shuddering breath, putting her back to a wall. “I cannae believe this…”

  “Are ye all right?” He could not tell how many times he had asked that question over the past few days. Every time he did, he was a little tense, wondering if this would be time she would break. She was withstanding so much that he would not be surprised if she did.

  “She’s convincin’,” she said sadly. “I daenae ken if I can believe her or nae.”

  “Ye cannae,” Matthew refused strongly. “She escaped right after she found the body. She must have known that she would be found out soon and was tryin’ to make a run for it before we had the chance to catch her. It makes sense.”

  To escape right after she had found the body? That had only made her seem even more suspicious. Wouldn’t it have been smarter to escape in the dead of night? Suspicioun continued to nag at Jonet.

  “Aye, it does.” Jonet closed her eyes, sighing. “But it doesnae feel right. Does it to ye?”

  She peered up at him at the question, imploring. Yet Matthew knew it made more sense to rely on what he knew. He knew she appeared guilty. He knew she had little to say in her defense. He knew, from his own experience, that people could be very adept at lying.

  For Jonet’s sake, he hoped she was the culprit. He hoped that they had finally locked her away, to put this entire ordeal behind them.

  “I do,” he nodded. “It’s what makes the most sense. I ken ye ken that too.”

  She sighed again.

  “Daenae worry about it too much,” Matthew went on. “I’m sure the Laird will do whatever he can to make sure he’s gotten the right person.”

  “He will,” she confirmed with a nod. “He was angry tonight, but I’m certain he willnae allow that to confuse his decision. He’s a good Laird. He’ll do a fair trial.”

  “Then we daenae have any reason to worry. Let’s leave this in his hands.” He wrapped his arm around her waist, steering her away. “Come. Let’s return to bed.”

  “I want this to be over, Matthew. I want us to finally be happy.” J
onet allowed him to lead her away.

  “So do I. I daenae if ye ken this about me, Jonet, but I daenae give up easily.”

  She huffed a laugh. “Oh, is that so?”

  “Aye, if I want somethin’, I go after it, no matter what gets in me way.”

  “Believe me, Matthew, I’m nay likely to forget that any time soon.”

  “Good, good. Because if ye ever hope to leave me…”

  “I daenae see that in me near future,” she said musingly. “But then, who kens what might happen. Ye might succeed in annoyin’ me so much that I kick ye back to the village.”

  “Ye wouldnae dare.”

  She lifted a brow. “Ye ken I like a challenge.”

  Matthew’s heart thudded at her wicked grin. He gave into the urge to scoop her into his arms, listening to her excited giggle. She was much more energetic than she had been before they had gone to sleep.

  “I have another challenge I’d like to issue to ye,” he whispered to her. Gratefully, the hallways were free of others, allowing them their privacy.

  “Oh?”

  “I wonder if yer up for it.”

  She grinned. Jonet kissed him on the mouth, letting her tongue slip past his lips and dominate. When she pulled away, he was a bit breathless. “I’m up for anythin’ with ye, Matthew.”

  Matthew matched her grin. “Now that’s what I like to hear.”

  Matthew went to visit Georgie the next day. There was a hop in his step, a grin on his face that he could not wipe away no matter how many times he tried. It was impossible when he had woken with the most beautiful woman in his arms, the weight from the events of the night on his shoulders gone.

  She had looked so peaceful while she slept. Matthew realized he had rarely had the chance to gaze upon her serene picturesque face, her lips parted slightly while her even breathing whispered through the room. She slept deeply, even though sunlight shone on her face, bringing alive those dark lashes that cast shadows on her cheeks. His heart had swelled with such love in that moment as he gazed down at her.

  It had been a while since she had slept so peacefully and so he had not wanted to risk waking her as he crawled out of the bed. She did not stir as he left, slipping out when the morning rose to go back to his own bedroom.

  “I brought ye breakfast,” he declared as he entered Georgie’s room.

  The boy was sitting up in bed with his gaze out of the window. He grinned brilliantly the moment he spotted Matthew and winced.

  “Relax,” Mattew told him, laying Georgie’s plate on his lap. “There’s nay reason for ye to be so excited to see me.”

  “I havenae spoken to anyone but the maid who helps me and the physician who comes to check me wounds. I’ve been longin’ for some conversation.”

  “Well, daenae let the maid or the physician hear ye say that.”

  Georgie laughed. “Ye arenae plannin’ to eat? Or have ye already?”

  “I’m waitin’ for Jonet to wake,” Matthew told him. He sat on the edge of the bed, one large enough to prevent him from sitting on Georgie’s feet. He took in the boy’s bare chest, his wrapped shoulder, and realized that stable work was more strenuous a job that he had thought.

  “How is Miss Jonet?” Georgie asked as he shoveled a hearty scoop of oats porridge into his mouth.

  “She’s better,” Matthew answered honestly.

  Georgie leaned over. He tried to mask the flinch of pain as he lifted his brows. Matthew held back his grin.

  “I heard the servants talkin’ about the Laird catchin’ the culprit. They say it’s Jamilyn? How can that be?”

  “Ye kent her?”

  “I certainly did. I think she started workin’ at the Castle around the same time I did. She would come by the stables sometimes to give us the leftovers from the scullery. I always thought she was rather nice. It’s hard to believe that she’s the one who has been doin’ all the killin’.”

  “Well, ye never truly ken someone’s true colors. She may truly be green with envy.”

  “May?” Georgie blinked, but he resumed his eating without missing a beat. Christal had told Matthew to make sure he ate every bit as she handed over the large bowl. Matthew did not think he would have a problem. “Are ye nae sure she did it?”

  “She claims she dinnae.”

  “And do ye believe her?”

  “I ken I should believe the facts. She looks guilty.” Yet Matthew could not ignore the feeling in the back of his mind that perhaps they should not be so ready to jump to conclusions. He understood why they wanted to believe that Jamilyn was the culprit. He understood how vital it was too, not just for Jonet’s, but for everyone’s peace of mind.

  Nay, she is guilty. She has to be.

  He shoved the nagging thought aside and nodded. “She was caught tryin’ to sneak out of the village. She was tryin’ to run away because she thought we were gettin’ close to findin’ out that she killed Dougal, especially since she had been the one to find Mr. Anderson. I’m nae surprised she would try to deny her guilt either.”

  “She was the one who found them?” Georgie was already halfway through his porridge, his head bent as he concentrated on eating. “And she found Dougal too? This daenae sound odd to ye?”

  It did. That was what had kept him up last night, as he held a sleeping Jonet in his arms. He could easily believe that she was lying, that she had truly done those terrible deeds and was trying to leave before she was caught. Yet when she had said that she was the one to find Mr. Anderson’s body, and that was why she left, fearing she would be labelled the murderer, it felt odd. Matthew could not determine where such a lie would fit in. It might have been much better if she had not mentioned that at all.

  Georgie exclaimed suddenly, drawing Matthew out of his thoughts. He looked at the teenage boy to see him scraping his spoon against the bottom of the bowl, trying to gather what was left of his porridge. He shoved the spoon into his mouth and sighed.

  “When I’m finally able to get out of this bed, I’m goin’ straight to Christal and I’m givin’ her a big kiss.”

  “She just might hit ye over the head with a spoon,” Matthew pointed out.

  “It would be completely worth the trouble. She should be made a queen, I tell ye.”

  Matthew laughed. A knock came at the door and when he turned, he saw a fresh-faced girl peeking her head in.

  “Ah, Mr. McDulaigh,” she said, coming all the way into the room. “The Laird have asked that ye see him in his office.”

  Dread coiled in the pit of his stomach. He could already tell what the Laird would want to talk about, and Matthew was not looking forward to that conversation. That rising feeling that Jamilyn might not be the one who had killed Dougal was growing too intense to ignore.

  He nodded and flashed Georgie a grin, hoping the boy would not notice his falling mood. The maid came over to fetch Georgie’s bowl and Matthew took that moment of distraction to leave the room. He took a deep breath as he made his way to the Laird’s office, bracing himself for what was to come.

  The room was empty.

  Matthew frowned and ventured further into the room, looking around for signs that the Laird had been here and would return shortly. When he found none, he decided to sit and wait, thinking that the Laird might have sent the order before he had arrived at the office.

  A few minutes passed and that coiling dread morphed into deep unease. Matthew left the office and made his way down to the dungeons, wondering if he would find the Laird there. Yet it was empty, save for the sleeping brigands and Jamilyn sitting in the corner of her cell. She did not see him, and he chose not to make himself known, slipping away silently.

  The unease grew. Matthew went to the Castle’s entrance and found the guards stationed there. He asked if the Laird had left the Castle and they confirmed, saying that it had been about an hour since he had been gone.

  Matthew grew incredibly agitated. He took off, racing back to Jonet’s bedroom with this heart in his throat. He pushed aside the f
rightened thoughts, telling himself that he was only overthinking. Perhaps the maid had been mistaken. Perhaps the Laird had forgotten he had sent for him. Perhaps Matthew had taken too long to arrive, and the Laird had grown impatient and left. No matter how odd the explanation seemed, he kept repeating them to himself, wanting to be assure that all was fine.

  When he arrived at Jonet’s room to find her gone, he knew there was no longer any chance of that.

  Chapter 27

  It was the sunlight that had woken Jonet in the end, the same annoying rays she had been trying to escape and to ignore for what felt like an hour of her life. She tossed and turned in her bed, rolling from one side to the other in a failed attempt to escape the sun’s ruse to tear her from the bed. When she finally gave in, Jonet stared up at the ceiling above her, a calm settled over her body and then she realized that she was alone.