Chapter Forty

“She’s been killed as you requested, my lady.” Tom O’Shea stood holding his hat against his chest, his head bowed in deference to the woman in front of him.

“Very good, Mr. O’Shea, very good indeed,” she praised him. “It was unfortunate that Seraphina had become a liability.” The black crepe of her cloak and hood concealed her carefully, and not for the first time, Tom wondered who she was. Though he had an idea, he still wasn’t certain.

But she was the one who had actually been bold enough to put a plan into action that ensured justice would be done, and that’s all Tom cared about. Justice for his darling daughter—and soon they would have it completely.

“Aye, she was threatening the mission, she was.” Tom hadn’t believed it at first, as Seraphina had been one of the founders of their little pact to seek revenge for the death of their loved ones at the hands of the late Duke of Kilmaine. To think that Seraphina had been about to confess all, and ruin all they had nearly achieved, had been unacceptable. Especially as they were so close to finishing what they’d started and ensuring all those who needed to be punished were.

The lady smiled; at least Tom thought she was smiling, it was rather hard to tell for certain with the lady’s hood covering most of her face and the dim light casting a soft glow in the back room of the tavern where they were meeting.

“She certainly needed to be silenced,” the lady confirmed. “She dared to threaten us, saying she would go to the authorities? The very nerve of the woman, after all I had done for her. She ended up being a traitor to our cause, and traitors must be punished, mustn’t they? Otherwise how else will we obtain justice for those we have lost?”

“Exactly, my lady!” Which was why Tom had happily crouched in the shrubbery at the back of the Campbell town house in Inverness, peered through the sights of the rifle until the back of Seraphina’s head had been perfectly aligned, and then pulled the trigger.

No one ever said God’s work wasn’t messy. But someone had to do it.

“But my dear Tom, we still have more to accomplish. Tell me, did you ensure that Lord Fergus has been made aware that her grace and Dr. McGuiness have fled Inverness, heading to the McGuiness lands?”

“Aye, my lady, in a roundabout way, I did. Lord Fergus is definitely aware of it, and I believe he intends to set out this very day to follow them. He’s right furious after Seraphina’s death.”

“Oh, excellent.” There was such satisfaction in the lady’s tone that Tom felt his chest puff up in pride. “It was well past time Fergus felt the pain of losing a loved one. We did him a favor killing his brother, but now it’s his turn to feel our wrath.”

“Are we going to follow them?” Tom asked.

“Indeed,” the lady replied. “Our plan is nearly complete, and all those who had a hand in the death of our loved ones will soon meet their maker in Hell.”

…

They’d finished their supper, and Alec had just shown Connie to her room, leaving her there to dress for the evening in a gown that Malcolm had borrowed from one of his lady friends, considering Castle McGuiness was rather barren of any lady’s accoutrements.

After all, it was predominately just his father and brother in residence, along with the household staff. Which was clearly evident in the lack of feminine touches around the place. Everything was rather stark, though the staff were perfectionists in ensuring that not a speck of dust was anywhere to be seen and that everything ran with precision and order. Which included the meticulous preparations for this evening’s celebration, which the whole clan would be attending.

Alec really didn’t want to take part in all the revelry, but Connie had seemed excited by it, and he knew he’d have to be there to protect her. The men of Clan McGuiness got rowdy at such occasions, and though they’d always be respectful to their women, when the wine flowed freely and the music was loud, sometimes they got overexuberant. And when they saw Connie, and how bloody gorgeous she was, not one of the single lads there would leave her alone. They’d be hounding her all evening, asking her to dance. Which obviously meant Alec had to be there and stay close to her, to ensure she wasn’t getting bothered.

His footsteps slowed as he got closer to his brother’s study. He hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Iain since they’d arrived an hour earlier, but he needed to be sure Iain was aware of the risks and had taken suitable precautions to ensure Connie was safe while she was with them.

The door to Iain’s study was closed, but there was a light shining from the gap underneath it. Alec steeled himself for the pain that always seemed to hit his chest whenever he saw his brother and the memories of Elise being in Iain’s arms resurfaced in vivid detail. By this stage it was mattering less and less that it had been Elise herself in his arms—it could have been any woman—but the betrayal still cut deep.

He knocked his knuckles against the wood and then pushed open the door. Sitting there behind the massive desk was his brother, his usual scowl etched across his face. They both shared the same dark brown hair and broad physique, but unlike Alec’s chocolate colored eyes, Iain’s were the color of freshly forged steel. The gray depths disturbing in their intensity, causing many men to squirm in discomfort when he stared at them. The same eyes as their father, and generations of McGuiness men before him. Perhaps that was why their father had been so readily able to believe Alec wasn’t his own son.

Glancing up from the paperwork he’d been buried in, Iain saw it was Alec and dropped the pen with which he’d been writing in his ledger, into an ink pot. A look of uncertainty, perhaps, seemed to cross his expression, though Alec doubted anyone but himself would say Iain looked uncertain. Confidence and command radiated from his brother like a damn halo.

Iain opened his mouth to say something but then seemingly changed his mind. Instead, he stood up and slowly walked across to where Alec had stopped inside the room. The two brothers eyed each other for a moment, nothing said between them, the moment thick with tension.

Eventually it was Iain who broke the silence. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to greet you earlier.” He motioned over his shoulder at the pile of papers on the desk. “As you can see, there was a great deal to get done before tonight’s festivities.”

His brother was always immersed in running the estate and had a particularly good head for figures. Which was why the McGuinesses, along with their clansmen and village tenants, had been able to come out of the great Highland clearances relatively unscathed. The sound financial stewardship Iain possessed had ensured all on their lands received good incomes, instead of having to flee to faraway colonies in order to survive.

“You’re aware, then, why I’ve returned, in relation to the duchess?”

“Aye,” Iain confirmed. “Malcolm sent a telegraph ahead outlining the issues. Though what he failed to mention was that your duchess is now wanted for murder.”

“Is that a problem?”

Iain raised an eyebrow. “This is Castle McGuiness, brother. It’s withstood centuries of sieges. I think it can handle Lord Fergus if he dares to try to come here, and my men can certainly handle the police, should they dare to as well.”

“Your confidence has always been your biggest asset, brother,” Alec replied. “And your biggest fault.”

“Perhaps.” Iain shrugged. “But it has deterred a great many from daring to take on Clan McGuiness.”

“This isn’t the Middle Ages anymore, Iain. Law and order prevail in the land, or at least are starting to.” Alec stalked over to the hearth, grabbed the poker, and turned the coals in the pit. The low crackling fire flared up in response. “I promised her she would be safe here, and I intend to see that promise carried out.”

“There’s no need to worry,” Iain said. “I have had Malcolm organize for some of my men to be stationed around the estate and around the celebration tonight, too. They shan’t be drinking and will ensure no one enters McGuiness land.”

The measures eased Alec’s mind somewhat. McGuiness men were all hand-picked for their loyalty and looked after extremely well monetarily. They were trained by Iain, too, and Iain was one of the best swordsmen and marksmen Alec knew.

“Tell me this,” Iain continued. “Did she murder him?” It didn’t sound as if the answer would bother his brother either way.

“No.” Alec sighed. “But they believe she did, which is the problem.”

“Are you certain?” Iain walked across to the hearth and sat in one of the seats beside the fireplace. “You do tend to believe the best in people. A quality that is both an asset and a fault of yours.”

Trust Iain to use his own words back at him. Very deliberately, Alec replaced the poker into its stand and slowly spun around to face his brother. He couldn’t let Iain see how much Connie meant to him and had to control the slow boiling anger threatening to bubble to the surface. “She was bloody lucky she wasn’t murdered herself. But in answer to your question, no, she did not murder anyone. I am certain of it.”

“So it was Fergus who did?”

“Originally, we thought so, and it still could well be, but now with the other deaths, I’m not certain…”

“Other deaths?”

Alec briefly told him of their discoveries in Inverness, and in particular the mysterious lady, who’d accompanied not only the male who had purchased the sedative in the apothecary but had also accompanied Seraphina to the Hellfire and Hound club, asking about Duncan and his missing mistresses.

“And you have no idea who this mysterious lady is?” Iain asked.

“Not really,” Alec replied. “However, I’m beginning to suspect that perhaps Lady Lorelie MacKinnon is involved in all of this more than she would like us to realize. I was suspicious when she turned up at the Inn where we breakfasted, and then there has been mention of a mysterious lady asking questions. Perhaps Lady Lorelie is the mysterious lady. Perhaps even the killer?”

Alec could see the tightening that went through his brother’s jaw at the mention of Lady Lorelie. Clearly, the woman still got under Iain’s skin, and Iain never let anyone get under his skin. “She’s a damn pain in my ass, that woman. But she is no murderer. She’s as direct and stubborn as they come and is not into games of cat and mouse. No, if she was going to kill Duncan, it would have been done without an innocent woman getting blamed for it.”

“You sound impressed by her.” Now that was an interesting development. Iain was rarely impressed by anyone.

“Please,” Iain scoffed. “All I’m impressed with is that she’s been able to avoid getting throttled for this long. I know of many who would like to see nothing more—men and women included. Lady Lorelie gives stubborn and fierce a whole new damn meaning.”

“Sounds like someone else I know.” Alec smiled blandly at his brother as he took a seat on the other chair facing the hearth. “Though siblings do the darnedest things in an effort to supposedly protect their siblings, don’t they? I imagine they would go to even greater lengths to avenge a sibling who had been murdered? Wouldn’t you agree, brother?”

A great silence descended upon the room, as they glared at each other.

“Aye, ’tis true,” Iain eventually said. “And ’tis obvious you still have not forgiven me for trying to show you the sort of woman Elise was.”

“You were kissing her, Iain. If the roles had been reversed, would you have forgiven me?” There was silence from his brother, and Alec sighed. “I rather doubt you would have.”

For a moment it seemed as if Iain would argue, but then his shoulders slumped slightly, and he stared into the flames of the hearth that were slowly stirring back to life. “No, I daresay I wouldn’t have. But you’ve always been the better person than I.” His eyes sought out Alec’s. “I realize now I shouldn’t have done what I did. But at the time it seemed the only way to get through to that stubborn head of yours. If I’d have known it would push you away for more than a decade, I would never have done it.”

Alec dragged a hand through his hair before getting to his feet and stalking over to the hearth once again. For some reason he couldn’t bear the stillness of simply sitting a moment longer. “After Father banished me with Mother, and then she abandoned me, you were the only one I thought I could trust.”

“You weren’t the only one Mother and Father hurt, Alec.” There was a bitterness to Iain’s tone that mimicked Alec’s own whenever he spoke of his parents’ mess all those years ago. “My whole world was ripped apart when not only Mother left, but you did, too. My baby brother who used to follow me around everywhere and make me smile and laugh with all his questions and curiosity about everything. He was suddenly gone, and with no prospect of ever returning.

“You have no idea how many times I begged and pleaded with our father to go and get you back, and at first, he was adamant he wouldn’t. Then, after a while, I could tell he grew to regret ever letting you leave with mother. By then, though, he was too proud to admit he should never have let you go. Too proud even to admit it didn’t matter if you were his son by blood or not, because you were certainly his son from birth.” Iain paused, and Alec could see his brother’s jaw clench tightly and what looked suspiciously like a bit of moisture in the corners of his eyes. “When you and Mother left, you both took a piece of my heart with you. So you aren’t the only one who has been abandoned.”

“Aye,” Alec agreed, finally realizing that Iain had been just as affected by what happened in the past as he had. “We’ve both been innocent pawns in their games. Which is why I trusted you above all else. And why it cut to the quick when you did betray me.”

“How else could I have handled the situation?” There was pain in Iain’s question. “You were a twenty-one-year-old who thought himself to be madly in love with a beautiful woman who could do no wrong. When I tried to tell you the truth about Elise, you wouldn’t listen to reason. You refused to accept that she was just using you. I could have talked until I was blue in the face and you still wouldn’t have believed me. Tell me that, brother, please. Tell me what I could have done to make you see the truth and not be hurt in the process?”

In hindsight, Alec could understand his brother’s reasoning, somewhat. At twenty-one he had thought he knew everything, and worse, thought himself in love. “You should have let me learn the life lessons on my own, without betraying my trust.”

“Aye, I probably should have. Hell, I know I should have, because then you wouldn’t have left. But I didn’t, and no matter how much I wish I had done things differently, I can’t go back in time and change a thing, as much as I bloody well wish I could.”

It was as close to an apology as Iain would ever be able to give, Alec imagined.

The idea of forgiving his brother was a confusing one. Holding on to negative emotions was never a healthy thing to do, and a part of him desperately wanted to go back to how things had been before the incident with Elise, but some things were too difficult to let go of and forgive. He didn’t know if he was ready to do either just yet. Though he also knew he was tired of holding on to this anger surrounding his brother.

Perhaps it was time to let bygones be bygones.

“Sons,” their father boomed from the doorway as he barreled into the room, dressed in his full Clan McGuiness regalia, kilt and all. “What in blimey hell are you two doing in here?” His brogue was thick as he shook his head in mock despair at both Alec and Iain. “I don’t know what I’ll do with the pair of you, you’re both not even dressed in your kilts yet, and the celebrations are about to begin. Oh dear…I think me poor heart is feeling faint…”

Alec had forgotten that the clansmen were expected to wear their McGuiness Clan uniforms and kilts. Connie was going to surely be amused at seeing him in a skirt, though she should be somewhat used to seeing men in their kilts, having lived in the Highlands for the last few years. He himself, on the other hand, hadn’t worn his dress outfit in more than a decade. And he’d certainly filled out some since. He could literally already feel the cold that would permeate a certain part of his anatomy when wearing his kilt. And the thought was not a fun one.

“We were talking, Da,” Iain announced.

The smile that sprang to their father’s face speared Alec with guilt. Though his father was in excellent health—contrary to the letter he’d written Alec and his efforts here pretending otherwise—the man was definitely getting old, nearing his seventies. The fact that he could gain such joy simply from his sons speaking together, really brought home to Alec how much his father wanted them to repair their rift.

The entire time Alec had been visiting Castle McGuiness, he’d done his very best to avoid speaking with Iain. Now, his stubbornness was beginning to seem rather futile and rather idiotic, too. At the end of the day, was one woman, who Alec now realized he’d never truly loved, worth sacrificing his relationship with his brother over? He was beginning to think it wasn’t.

“Oh, forgive me,” Connie’s melodic voice all but sang from the doorway, and instantly Alec’s whole body was alert. “I was looking for Alec, and I didn’t mean to interrupt you all.”

The three of them turned toward her, and Alec could have sworn all of them lightly gasped upon catching sight of her standing there in the doorway. She was stunning. Simply, utterly stunning. The sapphire-blue gown she wore fit her to perfection, with the tiny crystal beads interwoven throughout the bodice illuminating her with a thousand sparkles and molding her top curves like a second skin.

How Malcolm could have found such a gown belonging to another that fit so well, was a true testament to the man’s capabilities of getting a job done. And a job well done, he could happily say on this occasion. She would outshine every lady present tonight.

He had never been a jealous man before, but he found himself ridiculously jealous of the material of her dress, which was hugging and brushing against her soft skin everywhere except the delicate curve of her chest and neck. There, her corset was doing its work damnably too well, with the swell of her breasts showing just enough to tantalize but still within the bounds of decency.

She would tempt every man there. He was going to have to stay plastered to her side to protect her.

Even his normally stoic father and brother, who were never surprised by anything or anyone, were standing there speechless as they looked upon her. She was without a doubt the most stunning creature to ever grace the halls of Castle McGuiness.

He’d always been very aware of Connie’s beauty, how could he not? But it wasn’t until that very moment that it kicked him in the gut, and he knew then he was in trouble, because he wanted her with an intensity he’d never felt before.

“I don’t think we’ve been introduced properly yet,” Iain said, taking a step forward.

Without even realizing what he was doing, Alec moved between Iain and Connie. “Aye, you haven’t, and it’d be rude to introduce yourself to her grace. So don’t.” There was steel in his words.

Iain raised his brow, an expression of consternation in his gaze, and Alec had to admit his own behavior had surprised even him, but when Iain had looked at Connie with interest, an overwhelming urge to pummel him had come over Alec. An impulse he was still fighting.

“Alec, it’s fine,” Connie soothed as she came up behind him and placed a hand on his arm. “I am a guest in your family’s home. It would be rude not to introduce me to your brother.”

For a minute he debated doing so, but then reluctantly he did, all the while clenching his teeth and then grinding his jaw when his brother reached out and took Connie’s hand before bending over and placing a chaste kiss on her knuckles.

Why had he brought her here where his brother was? His brother, who was heir to not only an earldom, but a vast estate and wealth, too. Iain would be able to give Connie all the things she desired, and though he looked absolutely menacing, he would never raise a hand to her and would always protect her.

Was that really so bad? Particularly when Alec couldn’t give her his own heart, and he could never give her the sort of lifestyle she was accustomed to?

But Iain could, even if the very thought of the two of them together felt like a thousand daggers were piercing his heart.