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 that 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.”

“A rather nice way of describing the situation.”

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories. I know how both he and your mother hurt you greatly with their behavior.”

“It’s in the past, where it belongs.” His whole family had let him down, and if he was being honest, they’d hurt him deeply. Every single one of them. Although his father had since apologized for his reckless and rash behavior of falsely believing Alec was the product of his mother’s affair and not his son. And though Alec and his father had started to build a semi-relationship, it was still strained, and he suspected it always would be.

Much like Connie’s own relationship with her mother, though in Alec’s opinion, her mother’s transgressions of not protecting her daughter when she could have were far worse. “Seems I’ve simply had more ill luck with both my parents hurting me, instead of you with just your mother.”

“I suppose so,” she agreed. “Do you ever think of returning to Scotland permanently one day?”

A long time ago, Alec had often asked himself that question, too, once believing he belonged in Scotland, with the pull of the rugged Highlands thrumming like a steady beat in his blood. “Not really,” he replied, unwilling to go into great detail about why that was not going to be in his future.

“Don’t you miss them, though?” Connie asked. “I’m sure your brother and father miss you.”

Alec couldn’t help the scoff that left his mouth. “None of us McGuiness men are very good in the company of others. Family especially, considering they can hurt one another the most. You of all people should understand that, especially with your mother.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw a muscle in her jaw twitch as she nodded.

“Is it sad that a part of me still misses her, even after what she did?” There was a slight catch in her throat. “That a part of me still holds the smallest hope that she will change, and perhaps show me that she loves me, even just a little bit? That she regrets leaving me here, even after I pleaded with her to help me… Pathetic, I know.”

Alec felt like an out-and-out heel for even mentioning the woman. “It’s not pathetic at all. Sometimes even I…” He paused for a second, not certain he was ready to voice his thoughts about his own mother, but the forlorn expression on her face was tearing him in two, and he’d been the cause. “In truth, a part of me wishes my mother would contact me. At least to let me know she’s all right, and that perhaps she occasionally thinks about me, even after all these years.”

Her eyes widened. “She’s never contacted you after running off to Italy?”

“No,” Alec confirmed. As a twelve-year-old, he’d been unable to understand what he’d done to make her run away and leave him in England alone with his grandfather. He hadn’t understood what he’d done to make her stop loving him.

It wasn’t until he was older that he fully understood she’d placed her own needs and wants above those of her child. That she’d fled to the continent with her lover and abandoned him, all to become an Italian countess. “Not once.”

“We certainly drew the short straw for mothers, didn’t we?”

“We did.” He cleared his throat and pointed up ahead. “That’s the inn we’ll be staying at. Just around the corner is a small stable yard where we can keep our horses.” He motioned to the street just past the inn. Hopefully Connie would get the message that he didn’t wish to discuss his family anymore, nor further open up the old wounds of his past. “We’ll leave our horses at the stable first and then walk around to the inn.”

“Very well,” Connie said. “I must admit it will be nice to feel solid ground beneath my feet and have a respite from this uncomfortable saddle.”

“Your derriere a bit sore again, is it?”

She gasped and swiveled toward him. “Did you really just refer to that part of my anatomy?”

“I did, duchess,” Alec replied, a wicked grin accompanying his words.

“You’re outrageous, Alec McGuiness.” Connie shook her head, and he was certain she was trying to suppress her own smile. “Simply outrageous.”

“What can I say?” He shrugged. “I’m a doctor. I deal with anatomy all the time.” It felt good to tease a smile from her. She used to smile such a lot, but he noticed she rarely did now. Not that there was much to smile over in their current predicament.

They dismounted, and in short order Alec had arranged for the stable to house the animals for the time being. Then they both began to walk around to the inn.

“How long do you think we’ll be here in Inverness?” Connie asked him, her boots barely making a sound on the cobblestone walkway.

Alec felt like a big clunking oaf next to her, she was so petite. “Hopefully not long. As soon as we find anything to exonerate you, I think you should head to London, and I will stay and ensure the authorities are appraised of everything.”

They stopped just outside the front entrance to the inn, and for some reason Alec felt a slight wave of apprehension crawl up his spine. He glanced around, but everyone appeared to be going about their business, with none overly interested in Connie or him.

“Is everything all right?” Connie asked, placing her hand upon his arm.

He looked down at her hand, marveling over how delicate it appeared. Her whole appearance hid her underlying strength. An inner strength he didn’t think she even knew she possessed. He dropped his eyes down to hers, and for a moment he was speechless. The blue of her eyes was like a shimmering ocean, beckoning to him, and in that instant, he knew he could lose himself in her gaze. Alec cleared his throat and dragged his eyes away from hers. He had to keep an emotional distance, as he couldn’t practically keep a physical one from her.

“Everything is fine,” he answered, placing a hand on the door. “However, before we go in, I must warn you: I shall be saying we’re married.”

“You will?” she almost spluttered.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Which means we will have to share a room.”

“What?” She sounded like she was choking on the words and, combined with the expression of horror on her face, it cut down his ego markedly. “Pretending to be married? And sharing a room? That’s a terrible idea.”

Always nice to know what she really thought about the idea of being married to him.

Not that such a thing was ever in the realm of possibility, and of course she was horrified at the suggestion. She was, after all, a duchess, and though he was the younger son of an earl, he was without a title or a grand inheritance and actually worked for a living. The two of them marrying was ridiculous, let alone something she would ever want to have happen or be happy with.

Just like Elise, and just like his mother. Both had abandoned him for a title and wealth. And Connie would be no different. Even if she likely had chased a title only for her mother’s approval, she’d still lived a life as an earl’s daughter and then a duchess. There was no way she would settle for anything less. No woman would.

A black mood settled over him. He didn’t know why he was letting it affect him so, but it was. He suspected it was because a part of him was starting to care deeply for Connie, more than he ever had before, which scared the hell out of him.