The Sinful Scot

by Maddison Michaels

  Chapter Fifteen

  Shock rocked through Connie at Lorelie’s assertion. “You think he killed her?”

  “I do,” Lorelie said, slowly relaxing her fists and dusting some crumbs from her fingers. “The day before my sister died, I received a letter from her. Apparently, Duncan had spent all of her dowry, the estate was at risk of bankruptcy, and she feared the only way he could recover financially was if he married another heiress, which meant she had to die first.” Lorelie paused for a moment. “And wouldn’t you know it, she was dead the next day. But there was never enough evidence to prove Duncan pushed her, as much as my mother and I did try. And of course, he married you just over six months after her death. Not that any of it was your fault, of course.”

  Connie’s heart started to gallop. There had been whispers about the inappropriateness of Duncan traveling to London and searching for a bride so soon after the death of his first wife. But he was a man, and the rules were different for a man in mourning than for a woman. And, as Duncan had a child, it hadn’t been all that unusual when he had begun looking for a bride. At least that’s how Connie had reasoned it out in her own head at the time.

  How foolish she’d been to not consider he may have killed his first wife, especially as he’d very nearly killed her the first time he’d gotten carried away with his fists.

  “My sources tell me that Duncan was furious when your father insisted on a monthly dowry for the remainder of your life, instead of one lump sum,” Lorelie continued. “But I daresay it saved your life, considering Duncan was still suffering financial difficulties, and he relied on your dowry for his income.”

  “Sources?” Alec asked.

  Lorelie paused for a moment, and Connie could see she was weighing what to tell them. “Yes, sources,” she eventually confirmed. “After my sister’s death, I was determined to try to bring Duncan to justice, so I paid some of his servants to spy on him and gather information for me.” She shrugged. “I still get snippets here and there, even though I’ve long ago stopped trying to prove he killed my sister.”

  “Why did you stop?” Connie asked. Lorelie didn’t seem the type to let a murderer go free, and especially not someone she believed had killed her sister. The lady gave the term “stubborn Scotswoman” a whole new meaning.

  Lorelie’s eyes met Connie’s. “I had been so consumed with trying to prove he’d murdered my sister that I hadn’t been paying enough attention to how my sister’s death was affecting my mother. She, too, was consumed with wanting to bring him to justice—so much so that when it was the first-year anniversary of my sister’s death, and we still hadn’t found anything concrete to suggest Duncan had murdered her, my mother went for a walk and took a swim in the loch, never to resurface.”

  Connie had heard the rumors surrounding the late Lady MacKinnon’s death.

  “The doctor proclaimed it was an accident,” Lorelie continued, “but everyone knew the truth. My mother had been unable to bear the thought of Duncan getting away with murder and remarrying, seemingly untouchable, while rumors abounded that my sister had killed herself. Celeste was always my mother’s favorite, too, and her death turned my mother into a different woman.” She sighed, and her shoulders dropped a fraction. “My mother chose to drown herself in the loch that day. That I have no doubt about. And I had been too consumed with thoughts of revenge to actually notice what was going on right in front of me. It was then that I understood how badly I’d allowed Duncan’s foulness to penetrate my life, and that I couldn’t continue to be consumed by him, or thoughts of revenge, any longer. He wasn’t worth it.”

  “Damn right he wasn’t!” Angus said, slamming his fist down on the table. “That man was worse than excrement and I ’ope he’s rotting in Hell, the bastard.”

  So did Connie. But then the thought sent a niggle of guilt through her.

  “He’d already taken my sister from me, and then my mother in a way, too,” Lorelie continued, “and as I stood staring at my mother’s tombstone, which read ‘here lies Lady Mary Mackinnon, beloved mother to Celeste and Lorelie,’ I reasoned I’d lost enough already, and I had far more important things to give my attention to than that piece of excrement, as Angus so aptly likened him to. Plus, I knew that fate would eventually catch up to him. Which it has certainly done.” She smiled across at Connie. “It matters little to me if you killed him or not. I’m just happy he’s dead. Though I’m not happy if you’re being framed for something you didn’t do.”

  No, neither was she. “Alec and I are hoping to find some evidence to exonerate me and hopefully implicate Fergus.”

  “Well, the man’s as bad as his brother, isn’t he?” Lorelie reasoned. “He may not have hit anyone, but he stood around and did nothing, all the while knowing that Duncan was beating first my sister and then you, along with his countless mistresses.”

  “Mistresses?” Connie didn’t know why the news came as such a shock. She’d suspected Duncan had had mistresses—how could she not? Especially with all the trips he took to Inverness and Glasgow. But still, she’d never known for certain, and hearing her suspicions confirmed made her feel somewhat used and stupid. “I hadn’t realized. At least not definitely. And he beat them, too?”

  “Most, apparently.” Lorelie nodded, compassion radiating in her eyes. “I’m sorry for blurting it out like that. I thought you knew that he’d kept them.”

  There were a lot of things Connie should have known. She was coming to understand that now. But over the last few years, it had felt like she’d been living in a nightmare, and she’d done her best to simply survive, paying little attention to anything else.

  But she was done with living in the dark now.

  Taking in a deep breath, she glanced over at Alec, who was watching her, his eyes steady and calm. What must he think of her? Very little, she imagined. How could anyone think highly of someone who allowed herself to stay in such an untenable situation, when she couldn’t even think much of herself for doing so. To have put up with a man who not only abused her but was cheating on her, too?

  Shaking away the morose thoughts, Connie considered what Lorelie had told her. “He hurt his mistresses?” Now that did not surprise her, though it angered her. How Duncan had gotten away with hurting so many women over the years was a travesty. Fergus had done them all a favor, really. Just a shame he hadn’t done it sooner.

  “Apparently.” Lorelie shrugged slightly. “I was only just starting to uncover the extent of his true nature when I abandoned my quest after my mother was lost to us. So I don’t know much more of the matter. But I imagine I shan’t be the only one to not shed any tears over the death of that monster.” The jade of her eyes shone fiercely as she stared at Connie, almost as if she could sense the inner war Connie was facing regarding the relief and the guilt she felt over her late husband’s demise. “And you shouldn’t, either. Now, I don’t know where you were both heading, but you are more than welcome to return with Angus and me to Dunrobin Castle.”

  Dunrobin Castle was the ancestral home of the MacKinnons, and the thought of seeing Amelie was desperately appealing, but she couldn’t. Not yet, anyhow. “I do thank you for the offer, but I cannot put you all at risk.”

  “Bah!” Angus scoffed. “Fergus wouldn’t dare to go up against the MacKinnons.”

  “I wish he would,” Lorelie said, an edge of anticipation in her voice. “But alas, you’re right, uncle. The man wouldn’t dare.” She turned to face Connie. “You’ll be safe at Dunrobin, and Amelie would be thrilled. We’d even make an exception for this McGuiness of yours.”

  A little flush of delight blossomed within her at the thought of Alec being hers. But he never would be, of course, because belonging to someone meant to marry them. And Connie was never going to marry again.

  She refused to be a man’s possession, without any legal recourse or independence. And though she knew Alec would never harm her, under the law, he
could do whatever he wanted with her. She was never going to give another man such power over her again. She was a widow now and could make her own choices.

  Lorelie flicked her chin toward Alec. “Though that offer certainly wouldn’t be extended to any other McGuiness, and especially not to that cretin you call a brother. No offense intended.”

  A small laugh escaped Alec’s lips. “None taken. I daresay my brother has gotten called a lot worse over the years.”

  “Of course he has,” Lorelie scoffed, flicking her hair from off one shoulder. “I was trying to be polite. Your brother is a pain in my backside more often than not, and you can tell him I said so.” She glanced back to Connie. “So, will ye be coming back with us, then?”

  The offer was tempting, but it would be too easy, to once again not take her life in her own hands. And it was time Connie stopped hiding. She had to find out what truly happened to Duncan.

  “I thank you, truly I do. But I must clear my name, and I cannot do that safely tucked away on the MacKinnon estate. It would be only a waiting game until the authorities came to arrest me.”

  Lorelie was silent for a minute, her green eyes carefully assessing Connie’s own blue ones. The woman finally nodded. “Very well then. But know that you are always welcome.”

  “I appreciate it,” Connie said.

  “So, are you two heading for Inverness, then?” Angus asked, picking up his napkin and wiping away some of the bread crumbs that had gathered in his beard.

  Alec straightened slightly in his seat, and Connie could tell he was still wary of Angus and Lorelie’s presence. Odd how she knew what he was thinking. But even as a girl, she’d often been able to guess his thoughts and reactions, when others could barely read him. Which was why when he’d chastised her for her selfish behavior, it had often cut her to the quick.

  “Best we not tell you,” Alec replied. “Then, if you are stopped by the authorities, you can honestly say you don’t know.”

  Connie could have sworn Lorelie rolled her eyes at Alec, but the woman stood too quickly to be sure, sweeping her skirts aside as she walked around the table to where Connie sat. “It won’t take a genius to guess that’s where you’re both heading, especially if Connie is wanting to clear her name. But at least let’s get you out of this travel-worn dress and into something warmer and more appropriate for gallivanting about. I have a spare riding habit in my luggage upstairs, and though it may be a bit too long, we can easily cut the hem shorter, and we can also swap cloaks. The hood of mine may help to provide some disguise from your easily identifiable hair.”

  “You’re not the first to suggest that,” Connie grumbled in reply. Hopefully it would help conceal her, because the very thought of being hunted down, by either Fergus or the authorities, brought with it a sobering sense of reality. For, at the end of the day, tomorrow wasn’t promised to anyone. A premise Connie was starting to understand with stunning clarity.

  And if she didn’t have tomorrow, then she had only today.

  Which begged the question, what would she do if today was her last one of freedom?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Inverness Castle loomed large in the distance, an imposing facade of red sandstone turrets perched on a low cliff overlooking the River Ness. The castle itself was only a few decades old, after having been rebuilt on the site of an eleventh century ruin, but the new edifice was now home to the High Court of Scotland and one of the few court venues in the country that a woman could be tried and sentenced within.

  An ominous venue, Alec supposed, considering Connie’s situation, and that the site the castle sat upon carried with it centuries of bloodshed, treachery, and punishment.

  Glancing across to Connie, who was riding abreast of him, Alec noticed that she, too, was staring at the castle. He couldn’t tell if it was trepidation or anticipation in her gaze, or perhaps both, as Alec himself seemed to be feeling.

  In traveling to Inverness, they may have put distance between themselves and Fergus, but they’d certainly brought themselves into the vicinity of the authorities.

  Their horses clattered across the cobblestones of the bridge, and up ahead in the distance the stone gate and old drawbridge leading into the city glared imposingly large. At one stage in centuries past, that gate would have been closed to keep unknown travelers out, but now its hinges and chain were covered in rust, and the archway of stones served only as a visual reminder of days gone by, rather than an actual barrier to provide protection to those within the city walls.

  Alec pulled his jacket in closer to his chest as the crisp afternoon air swept in across the river, bringing with it an iciness that could only mean snow was falling farther north, and though it was spring, snow in the Highlands was certainly not unheard of at this time of year.

  Connie looked warm enough with the riding habit and cloak Lady Lorelie had given her, and her glorious hair, the color of soft snow, was well hidden beneath the cloak’s hood. A good thing, too, as by now, Fergus would have certainly discovered Connie gone, and if he was smart, he would have sent a telegraph to all the surrounding towns and cities, offering a reward for her capture.

  It’s what Alec would have done.

  And if that was the case, then many would be actively paying close attention to those traveling into the city. Which was why they’d need to secure lodgings first and then visit the telegraph office and apothecary.

  Scanning the horizon as they passed under the drawbridge, Alec was glad for the anonymity that cities offered. He doubted that Fergus knew yet that Connie wasn’t traveling alone. Which meant with them traveling together, she might go unidentified for a bit longer. He motioned for Connie to follow him down a street to their right. The sooner they left Main Street, the better.

  “Have you been here before?” Connie asked in a low whisper as they stayed side by side on their horses, having to dodge only a few of the afternoon vendors carting the last of their wares.

  One woman was carrying two half buckets of fresh milk hanging from a plank of wood, one bucket on each end, with the plank balanced at the back of her neck, across her shoulders. It looked darned uncomfortable, but people had to make a living.

  “A few times over the years,” Alec replied. Briefly, memories of the few years he’d spent in Scotland when he was younger flickered across his mind. He’d been a young man, and Inverness was the closest city for miles from the McGuiness estate. He, his brother, and Malcolm had often ridden from dawn till dusk to spend the weekend in the city, where there’d been a great deal more amusements to be had than up in the rugged northern Highlands.

  Yes, he’d spent some wild weekends in the city, becoming a man, as his brother had called it, though those times were mostly spent in the more rambunctious parts of the town. “I wouldn’t consider myself an expert on the lay of the land, but I’ve been here enough to get around comfortably. And I did stay here on my way to the Campbell estate from my father’s just the other day.”

  “Are you like him very much?”

  “Who? My father?” He was somewhat baffled by the change of topic. But he did remember she’d always been rather curious about his Scottish relatives, though he’d always refused to discuss them in the past.

  “Yes.” She nodded. “I don’t mean to pry, but from all accounts, they say you’re the spitting image of him.”

  They rode past some more people walking briskly through the streets, hurrying about their business and paying little attention to them, leaving Alec to consider Connie’s statement. He could still remember when he was eighteen and he’d traveled back to Scotland to see his brother and father again after so many years. “Aye, I look enough like him that when he saw me again when I was eighteen, any rumors that I wasn’t his son were very quickly laid to rest.”

  He’d never intended to return to his homeland when he was a lad, not after his father had banished him for his mother’s sins, suspecting t
hat Alec wasn’t actually his child. But after Alec’s grandfather’s death, he’d found a pile of letters from his father begging first his mother, and then later, after she’d fled the country with her Italian count, begging Alec’s grandfather to allow Alec to return to Scotland. Neither his mother nor grandfather had ever said a word to him about the letters.

  “He must be a handsome man, then.” Connie gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth. “Oh, I can’t believe I just said that.”

  There was a delightful flush of pink starting to spread up across her cheeks. “You think I’m handsome, do you?”

  She raised her chin in the air, staring pointedly ahead. “It’s simply a fact. Not an opinion. So do not be getting an overinflated opinion of yourself, Alec McGuiness.”

  He couldn’t help the chuckle that came out of his mouth. She looked captivating, with a combination of embarrassment and defiance crossing her beautiful features. And he didn’t know why the idea that she thought him handsome filled him with such male satisfaction. But it did.

  She was silent for a minute as they continued to ride down the street. “You rarely talk about your father, you know.”

  Alec raised a brow. “Why would I? He has nothing to do with any of this.”

  “No, I suppose not,” Connie agreed. “But, well… Since losing my father the other year, I regretted not writing to him more often or seeing him more.”

  “He was a good man, your father.” Alec could still remember the late Earl of Abelard often pulling him aside at a ball or assembly to discuss the latest medical advances. The earl had been especially keen on all things scientific and medical related, and he loved to discuss them with Alec, never treating him as anything less than his equal. Unlike the man’s wife.

  “The best.” Connie sighed wistfully. “I miss him every day. You must be happy to have your father still around, even with all of the, um…issues of the past.”