An hour later, after escaping Castle Kilmaine without incident, Alec and Connie were astride their horses, navigating their way toward Inverness. The moon was full, which made seeing the path in front of them easier, but it also meant they would be as equally easy to spot if anyone were pursuing them.
Traveling under the cover of darkness had taken them longer than Alec had anticipated, but the sun’s rays were not long off the horizon, and the dawning light of the morning would help them pick up some speed and get to their destination.
After all, time was of the essence.
He glanced over to Connie, who was perched on her own horse, a small but agile white mare that seemed to be keeping pace with Alec’s stallion remarkably well, as they rode side by side along the dirt road through the hills bordering the edge of Campbell land toward Inverness. Though she appeared near exhausted, with deep shadows marring the porcelain skin under her eyes.
But they had to keep pushing on. A fact he knew both of them were intensely aware of. Hopefully, Fergus wouldn’t discover Connie’s escape for another hour or two, and he’d think she would be heading to London, instead of to Inverness, where they could blend in and become almost invisible in the third largest city in Scotland.
“Do you think the apothecary will tell us what substance was in the vial?” Connie asked, her eyes flicking over to him. “And that they might even remember who bought it from the store?”
“I hope so.” He felt the weight of the small bottle Mrs. Morgan had given him, nestled in his pocket, knowing it was basically the only thing they had to go on. “From what I gather, coins talk greatly in the apothecary, so I’m anticipating we may be able to entice someone into talking.”
“Yes, hopefully,” she agreed, though there was a frown marring her brow. “I wonder if Fergus has been told I’ve escaped yet?”
“I don’t know,” Alec answered her truthfully. “But as soon as we get to Inverness, we’ll be able to lose ourselves in the city, so it shouldn’t matter. Though while we’re out here we’re easy targets.”
Connie nodded in agreement before her gaze darted to the rising dawn. “Yes, the sooner the better. However, I must say, even though I’m acutely conscious that we could be caught at any minute, I’m also surprisingly elated.”
“You are?”
“Yes,” she said, her gaze staying locked on the distance. “For the first time in years, I no longer have the burden of being worried about being struck and beaten by Duncan. It’s liberating.”
To hear such painful words filled Alec with fury and helplessness. If that husband of hers wasn’t already dead, Alec suspected it would be he himself guilty of pummeling the lights out of him.
She released a hearty sigh, and Alec felt his heart twist.
“You’re the only person, apart from my mother, who I’ve actually told that to.” There was a hint of sadness in her voice. “Though I daresay many in Society suspected what he did to me, or at least the gentlemen did. Duncan was very good at charming the ladies, you see. Of course, everyone at the castle knew what was going on. How could they not? But they were powerless to do anything to help. Luckily however, in the past few years I’ve had Mrs. Morgan there to assist me. I don’t think I could have gotten through it without her. Or at least, not as well.”
“The housekeeper?” he asked.
“Yes,” Connie confirmed. “Mrs. Morgan was always the one to tend to my wounds and care for me after one of Duncan’s rages.”
The concern for Connie in the woman’s eyes, when she’d given Alec the empty vial yesterday, had been readily apparent. “She certainly seemed worried for you and did want me to help clear your name by traveling to Inverness to visit the apothecary.”
Connie smiled. “In the last two years, she’s been more of a mother to me than my own ever has.”
“Unfortunately, that is not too difficult to imagine.” Alec sighed heartily. Connie’s mother, the Countess of Abelard, was about as far from maternal as a mother could be. A cold and exacting woman, who demanded perfection in not only herself, but everyone around her, and most especially in her only daughter. A woman who was happy to criticize and belittle others below her station, as Alec knew only too well from personal experience.
“I did try for the longest time to live up to her wishes and standards. I suppose a part of me had always been desperate to gain her approval and her love.” She shrugged, and though she was trying to project a nonchalant expression on her face as she stared straight ahead, the hurt suffered couldn’t be quite disguised. “But I was never able to, and eventually I gave up trying.”
“You married a duke, Connie. Surely that would have satisfied her bloody high standards.” And for the first time, Alec realized why, perhaps, Connie had been so determined to marry into such a high title.
“It did initially,” Connie agreed, flicking the reins of her horse, to redirect the animal from wandering off the path. “Leading up to my wedding was one of the happiest times I’ve ever had with my mother. She was so thrilled I was betrothed to a duke that she actually wanted to spend time with me; something she’d always been too busy to do before. Well, apart from the times where she felt she had to correct my posture, my diction, my choice of attire, or even with whom I danced.”
“Your mother does like to correct others.” The woman was a veritable dragon.
Connie glanced briefly over at Alec. “She was furious when she saw your name written on my dance card that time at the Melville’s ball. Do you remember that? When we bickered on the balcony after I told you I’d changed my mind about dancing with you?”
“I do.” It had been before Connie had been betrothed. The last ball Alec had seen her at, where he’d been extremely annoyed to discover his attraction to her. He hadn’t been intending to ask her to dance, but when he’d caught sight of her gliding down the staircase that night, dressed in her jade silk gown, a glint of mischief in her blue gaze, he couldn’t stop himself from approaching her and asking. “You teased me when I asked you to, but you said yes, only to change your mind later in the evening.”
She pressed her lips together for a moment. “I’m sorry I was so cruel and didn’t tell you the truth of why I changed my mind.”
“I recall you said that being seen dancing with me would ruin your marriage prospects?” Alec remembered the words all too well. He’d been furious and more than a little hurt that she considered him not good enough. That she’d changed that much from the girl he’d spent a great deal of time with when he was younger. “I’m sorry I called you nothing more than a title grabber. I should have known your mother was behind your change of mind. She’s always loathed me and especially detested our friendship.”
Connie nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t have the nerve to stand up to her more back then. I think she was scared there was something between us…” Her voice trailed off. “Which I thought rather hilarious, considering I always thought you were somewhat in love with Sophie.”
“You thought I was in love with Sophie?”
“I did,” Connie replied. “And I don’t think I was the only one. Your scowl would always disappear whenever she was near.”
Alec was silent for a moment as he thought back to those times. Of course he cared for Sophie—who wouldn’t? The lady was kindness personified. But love? No. After Elise, he hadn’t allowed himself to come close to falling in love again. “I think a small part of me was hoping I was in love with her,” he eventually replied.
“Hoping you were?” She appeared confused by his words, and in truth so was he.
“I did admire her greatly back then, and I still do,” Alec tried to explain, perhaps as much to himself as to Connie. “After Elise shattered my heart and I returned to England, I was, let’s just say, extremely jaded about women. But Sophie was so different from society ladies. She didn’t care about a title, she didn’t care about getting married, in fact, she actively didn’t want to. Traits that were so opposite to everything Elise was, that I found myself thinking if I could find someone like her to love, then I would never be hurt again.”
“Sophie is a very special lady,” Connie said.
“She is,” he agreed. “So, for a time I think I may have appeared to be slightly infatuated with her. But it was more the idea of her that I was infatuated with. That there was someone so good and pure out there, who would never betray me. And after being betrayed by my entire family, that was very entrancing.”
“Yes, Sophie would never betray anyone,” Connie agreed. “And who could blame you for admiring her? Sophie is all that is good in the world.”
“She is. Though I can honestly say I’ve never been in love with her, Connie.” Alec didn’t know why it was important Connie believe him, simply that it was.
“You weren’t?”
He shook his head. “No, I wasn’t. And if I’m being honest, I think I was so upset when you had changed your mind to dance with me because I was so bloody attracted to you that night.”
A searing heat jolted through him as her eyes glanced over to his with such an expression of questions and possibilities in her gaze.
She flicked her eyes forward at the approaching horizon. “Well, if we’re both being honest, I was very attracted to you then, too. I can still remember the snow-white cravat and midnight black suit you were wearing. You’d never looked more handsome, but I was still too afraid of displeasing my mother to stand up to her. I wish I’d had the courage to do so, but a small part of me was desperate to gain her love. I should have known she’s not capable of such an emotion.”
“I’m sure she loves you.” Alec supposed that there had to be some vestiges of humanity and love within the cold hard shell that was the countess. “She most likely simply has a difficult time displaying emotions.”
“I used to think so, too, but after the first and only time she visited me, around six months after my wedding, I changed my mind.” Connie continued. “I confided in her that Duncan was beating me, constantly, and I actually begged her for help.”
“What did she do?”
There was a heavy silence.
Eventually Connie shook her head in the negative. “She did nothing.”
“Nothing?”
Licking her lips, she shrugged. “She refused to, instead blaming me and saying that I must not be behaving in a proper manner, and basically that my willfulness was most likely the cause of his wrath. So she told me that I needed to improve myself as a wife and stop vexing him to the point of anger.”
A sick feeling pitted in his stomach. “She blamed you?” The woman had always belittled Alec, refusing to even acknowledge him at several assemblies, and that behavior had hurt. But to ignore the fact that her daughter was being beaten? Absolutely inexcusable.
Connie nodded. “She did. Anyhow, it was a good lesson for me, that there was no point in trying to please her or earn her affection. And I haven’t spoken to her since. She’s never even written to see how I was faring.”
“You should have told someone else, then.” Alec tried to keep the frustration out of his tone, though it was hard. “Your brother would have put a stop to it. Hell, if I had known, I would have, too.”
“My brother would have killed Duncan.” She pulled out a flask from the satchel he’d prepacked for her and took a swallow of the water.
The thought of her brother killing Duncan didn’t bother Alec nearly as much as it should have. “Men who abuse those weaker than themselves are lower than bottom dwellers in my opinion. I can understand your brother wanting to thrash the living daylights out of any man who would dare to raise a fist against you.”
She smiled, though there was a wistfulness in her expression. “Richard would have literally killed Duncan, not simply thrashed him. Particularly if he’d ever found out how close Duncan had come to killing me.”
“What do you mean, came close to killing you?” He felt every inch of himself tense at the thought.
Connie sighed. “After he first struck me, I tried to flee but didn’t get very far. When he got me back to the castle, he wasted no time in demonstrating his displeasure that I had dared to try to leave.” She took in a somewhat shaky breath and stared off into the distance. “Apparently the doctor he eventually summoned, after Fergus insisted, mind you, didn’t think I’d make it. But I did. Eventually.” She returned her attention back to him, and he could see the brief flash of pride in her eyes before her expression became shuttered. “Sometimes, though… I wish I hadn’t.”
“Don’t ever think that, Connie.” He was aching with the knowledge of the pain and suffering she’d gone through, and not just physically. He had to restrain himself from hauling her from her horse onto his lap to hold her and comfort her. But he knew that would only spook her, and he didn’t want her to ever be afraid of him.
Not to mention having her on his lap would be highly inappropriate, especially as his darned body seemed to be so physically aware of her. “You are one of the most determined people I know, and quite frankly, I couldn’t imagine this world without you in it.”
“You couldn’t?” There was a note of hope in her voice.
“No, I couldn’t,” he confirmed.
There was silence between them, as their eyes stayed locked on each other and their horses gently wandered down the path, side by side. Alec couldn’t drag his gaze away from her if his life depended on it. He had to ensure she knew how special she was. Not many women could go through what she had and keep their mental spirits intact.
“Even though perhaps my behavior didn’t quite reflect that in the past,” he continued. “Because as much as we used to clash before you went off and married that bastard, and I always chided you—”
“Yes, you certainly did that.” She was quick to agree. “Though I think I rather deserved it. I was horrible to you at times. Treating you the way I did.”
Alec smiled, glad that she didn’t sound as despondent as she had a minute ago. “I did. But I realize now that I may have not been entirely fair to you in doing so.”
“Excuse me? Is that a semi apology from you, Alec McGuiness?”
He could hear the hint of incredulity and slight amusement in her tone. And he couldn’t blame her—he was rather stubborn about certain things. “Yes, I suppose it is. Your behavior as a debutant reminded me too much of someone, that I think I transferred my anger for her onto you. So for that I am sorry.”
“Oh.” She gulped. “I knew something must have happened in the Highlands all those years ago, because you returned…changed, at least from what I remembered. Though I hadn’t realized it involved a woman.”
Alec sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Doesn’t it always?”
She smiled warily. “I suppose it does. I’m sorry she hurt you. Was this woman the Elise you mentioned earlier?”
“It was,” Alec replied. “But a broken heart is nothing compared to the hurt you’ve had to endure. How long did it take you to recover from that first beating?”
“I was laid up in bed for more than two months,” she answered.
His fists started to clench, and Alec had to once again make a concerted effort to calm himself down. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her. “Two months?” She hadn’t exaggerated when she’d said she’d been beaten to within an inch of her life.
“Yes. They thought I wouldn’t be able to walk again, but thankfully, I eventually recovered. Though my legs still pain me occasionally, especially when it rains.”
He could see that her hands were tightly gripping the leather bits of the bridle as she relived the horror. Alec had never wished violence on anyone before, but in this case, he hoped there was some justice in the afterlife for what the bastard had done.
“In a way, though,” she continued, “it obviously scared Duncan enough, so that he never beat me as badly again. At first, I naively believed that he’d been contrite over his actions. But I later realized that he couldn’t risk losing my monthly dowry payments if I died. A small comfort, I suppose.”
Alec nudged his horse closer to hers and gently took the reins from her hands, then eased both horses to a stop.
Connie turned and raised her face to him, defiant against the tears silently trailing down her cheeks. He had to take in several deep breaths himself. Hearing of all she’d suffered was nearly his undoing.
Whenever he’d thought of Connie over the years, he’d always imagined she’d be in her element as a duchess and living a life of luxury. Never could he have anticipated she’d been living in her own private hell.
“If I’d known this on the night of the ball, I never would have left you there alone with him.” Alec’s voice was a rough whisper. “Never. Not even for one more second.”
Slowly she nodded, a soft smile spreading across her face.
Courage shone in her expression, and Alec had never felt such a compulsion to kiss anyone more than he did Connie right at that instant. But he couldn’t. She was too emotionally fragile; kissing her would be tantamount to taking advantage of her. And Alec would never do that. “I wish you had told me what was happening.”
“I couldn’t.” She shook her head, and some tendrils of her blond hair brushed across her cheek.
He had to resist reaching his hand over and gently brushing the wisp of hair back behind her ear. Her skin appeared so soft and delicate, he couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to mar its perfection. Belatedly, he realized he was holding his breath. “You could have told me.”
Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, and Alec nearly groaned. He had to get his entirely inappropriate thoughts in check, or he’d be lost.
“After I told my mother and she did nothing, I didn’t feel I could really confide in anyone else,” Connie whispered. “Some of it was misplaced pride, I can see that now. Though I was also protecting Amelie.”
“Amelie?” He’d not heard her use the name before.
“My six-year-old stepdaughter,” she explained, a smile spreading across her face. “She’s such a darling little girl, but Duncan threatened to beat her if I so much as dared tell anyone what was going on.”
Alec could understand her reluctance in light of that. What an absolute bastard her husband had been. “Is the girl safe, though, with Fergus?”
“She’s currently on the way to her grandfather’s, in the company of my maid Sarah and the coachman,” Connie replied. “Fergus has no idea, and I doubt he will realize she’s even gone, especially once he discovers I’ve escaped. Though I suppose it’s possible he’ll think I have Amelie with me. Which I must say, I’d thought about doing, but in the end, she will be far safer with the MacKinnons than she would be fleeing with me. As much as I already desperately miss her.”
“The MacKinnons, as in Clan MacKinnon?”
“Yes,” Connie confirmed. “Her grandfather and aunt will protect her.”
“That they certainly will.” Alec had never met a more independent and fiercer lady than Lorelie MacKinnon, the current earl’s daughter. If anyone would ensure the girl was safe, it was that she-devil, as his brother liked to call the woman. Alec himself had been impressed at the amount of annoyance she stirred in his brother. A woman who could ruffle his brother that much was a woman with admirable qualities. “Come, we best keep moving.”
They both turned their horses and urged them into a swift trot toward their destination, falling into a comfortable silence. The sun was slowly rising and turning the sky into a brilliant canvas of colors: hues of bright orange, tinged with pink and purple shimmered along the horizon. It was easy enough to lose himself in the stunning vista, but for the fact that a niggle of awareness had begun to twinge at the nape of his neck.
And whenever he felt that niggle, trouble usually followed.
He casually scanned the edge of the clearing, first to his right and then to his left but could see only the softly swaying trees of the forest in the distance. For all intents and purposes, it appeared they were alone in this rather forlorn part of the country. And he’d been often looking behind them, to ensure they weren’t being followed.
Even though he couldn’t see anything, he had the strong sense that they weren’t safe. Almost as if he could feel someone’s eyes watching them as they rode across the countryside. But that was impossible.