by Marie Laval
Afterwards, she lay naked and blissfully content in his arms. The moonlight danced on his skin, catching the reflection of his crescent-shaped medal. His mouth nuzzled the side of her neck, his fingers stroked her hip and sent delicious tingles all over her body.
‘Will you tell me what happened after I left Wrath?’ she said. ‘The letter I received from Doctor Kilroy in February was very succinct. I only know that Lady Patricia died shortly after the trial started, that the judge cleared you of any wrongdoing and convicted Morven of abduction and murder.’
Bruce nodded. ‘That’s right. Although he denied being involved in Malika’s and Fenella’s death at first, Morven changed his story as soon as he was told of Lady Patricia’s death. He said he abducted Fenella MacKay on the moors and held her captive in the hunting lodge for months, then confessed to killing both her and Malika, and to getting McNeil to dispose of their bodies and incriminate me. He even confessed to hiring McNeil to poison me.’
He paused and added in a bitter tone, ‘It was as if nothing mattered to him any longer – apart from keeping the McRae name untarnished, of course. He categorically denied either McRae or Lady Patricia had any knowledge of the whole thing, even if you and I know that they were implicated too.’
‘Why didn’t you call me back from Algiers to testify at the trial? I could have told the judge how Cameron conned me into a fake marriage to get hold of my father’s diary, and reported what the Ouled Nail told me about him forcing Malika to come to Scotland because she’d seen him hit that poor dancing girl in Algiers, the one who was later found dead in the harbour.’
‘I didn’t want you to be part of it, stand and be humiliated in front of everybody.’
‘But I could have made a difference! I knew about my father’s diary, I had read Niall McRae’s letter to your mother. I was there when Cameron said you were his half-brother and tried to kill you during that terrible last night at Wrath Lodge.’
His arms tensed around her. ‘I told you. This was my battle, I didn’t want to drag you into it and force you to reveal what McRae had done to you.’
She moved on top of him and kissed his chest where the tattoo had been. ‘Oh Bruce, I wouldn’t have minded if it had helped you.’
He sighed and ran his fingers through her hair, toying with the wild curls. ‘I know, love. Anyway, the judge asked the two madames from the brothel to testify in person, and they weren’t quite as vehement with him as they’d been when they confronted me at Westmore. They soon broke down and declared that Malika and Fenella had been brought in by Morven, and that I would have been quite incapable of doing anything to either of them because I had been too badly beaten up to even stand on my own. They also confirmed it was Morven who’d paid them to go to Westmore and claim I had killed both young women.’
A fist of steel closed around Rose’s heart. ‘So how did Fenella and Malika die?’
‘Morven said he and McNeil killed them on the way back to Wrath then disposed of their bodies.’
‘What did he have to say about Capitaine Pichet’s murder and the way he and Lady Patricia blackmailed Morag into killing you and your mother all those years ago?’
‘He said it wasn’t true and he was never aware of any involvement between Niall McRae and my mother. When McRae’s lawyers Longford and Stewart were called to the witness box, they too denied ever meeting Capitaine Pichet or knowing of McRae’s amended will and testament. I am afraid in the absence of any written evidence, the judge believed them over me.’
‘What happened to Morag after she ran away from Wrath Lodge?’
He drew in a shaky breath. ‘Her body was found in the graveyard at Balnakeil church, near the grave of her husband and son.’
The pain in his voice brought tears to her eyes. ‘Oh Bruce, I’m so sorry.’
‘Not as much as me. It was my fault she died there all alone. I treated her cruelly and unjustly that night at Wrath Lodge. In a way, I was the one who killed her.’
‘No, you weren’t. She was very ill, and she was plagued by remorse. When I met her at Doctor Kilroy’s house she said she wanted to make amends. She said the Dark Lady was waiting to take her away.’
He kissed her forehead, her lips, and wrapped her more tightly in his arms. ‘The Dark Lady … it may sound crazy but I do believe she was the one who saved me from Morven and McRae that night at Wrath Lodge. She was the shadow they saw dancing on the blade of the claymore.’
She nodded. ‘You’re right, it was her. Noelie was watching over you.’ She laid her cheek against his chest, listened to the strong, regular drumming of his heart. ‘If you didn’t inherit any of McRae’s fortune,’ she asked after a while, ‘then how did your repay Wrath’s debts?’
‘All thanks to you, my love, and the note you sent the morning you sailed away, and that Kilroy kept for me.’
She lifted her head and looked into his eyes, a smile on her lips. ‘You mean, you found the French gold – the gold meant for the Jacobites?’
‘I did, after much digging around. It was buried under a great pile of rocks at the bottom of a pit in the ruined tower. There was just about enough for me to repay the bank, commission new fishing boats and modernise the fisheries.’
‘In his last letter, Niall wrote that he had planned to use the money to start a life with your mother in the New World. He really sounded as if he loved her, you know. And he loved you too.’
Bruce closed his eyes and sighed. ‘Maybe he wasn’t as bad as I’d thought,’ he remarked at last. ‘It is high time I left the hatred and bitterness about the past behind. McRaes or McGunns, who cares any more, as long as I have you by my side?’
A little over six months later, they stood on the deck of The Garnett as it rounded the north coast of Scotland. It was the end of a long, gruelling journey during which they had travelled from Bou Saada to Djanet where Bruce wanted to meet her mother and her brother, former scout and rebel fighter-turned-philanthropist, Lucas Saintclair. The man with eyes the colour of a cool dawn sky had taken Bruce for a long walk around the oasis and submitted him to a thorough grilling before giving him a hard tap on the shoulder and declaring that he’d better look after his sister or else. Rose’s mother, however, had only had warm smiles and kind words for him, and on the morning of their wedding had told him she trusted him unconditionally with her beloved daughter’s happiness.
They had started on the long trek back up to Algiers a few weeks after the wedding. And now, they were almost home, at Wrath Lodge.
The June dawn was crisp and clear, and the sky was a pale, almost luminescent blue. Pink and orange hues bled into the water along the line of the horizon. Sea spray flew upwards every time the ship bounced up and down. Birds circled above the surface of the sea and dived into white-crested waves. Their shrill, high-pitched calls filled the air, together with the sounds of the sails flapping in the breeze.
In the distance, the cliffs glistened in the rising sun and at the top stood Wrath Lodge in the transparent morning light. Bruce felt light-headed, and almost drunk on sea air and happiness. He was home, at last, and he had brought back the greatest treasure a man could ever wish for.
Rose snuggled into his arms. ‘I’ll never forget the first time I saw Wrath Lodge.’ She chuckled. ‘It was so dark and horrid I was sure I had died and gone to Hell.’
He held her more tightly. ‘Do you think you’ll ever get used to living here? Perhaps I have been selfish and you’d be happier in Djanet with your family, or in London or Edinburgh where winters are less wild.’
She turned to face him and smiled. ‘I am not afraid of snow and gales, Bruce McGunn. Wrath is where I want to be, where I belong now and …’ She lay her hand on her round belly, ‘… where our child will be born in a few weeks’ time.’
Her hair flew around her face, golden curls catching the sunlight. Her iris blue eyes appeared deeper and more bewitching than ever. His heart was so filled with love and wonder that this woman should be his that it ached, and he had to take
a deep breath before he could speak.
‘You may have believed you had arrived in Hell,’ he said, ‘but I knew as soon as I met you that my long, cold and lonely winter had finally ended.’ He lifted her hand to his mouth, brushed his lips to her soft, orange-blossom-scented skin and whispered, ‘And that life by your side would be like a never-ending summer’s day.’
THE END
Marie Laval
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Marie Laval
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