Chapter Forty-Nine

Slowly, Connie opened her eyes, or at least she tried to; her lids felt so thick and heavy. And goodness, her mouth was as dry as a bone. But gradually the room started to come into view, hazy at first, but then in more detail.

A sense of nervousness ran through her when she didn’t recognize any of the furnishings. She was obviously lying in a large four-poster bed, with a thick blue canopy overhead, but she had no idea of where she was or what had happened. Too many times she’d woken after a beating from Duncan, tucked in her bed, that for a moment she feared that’s what was happening now.

Perhaps Duncan wasn’t dead? Perhaps she’d just dreamed everything that she’d thought had happened over the last few days? Panic started to set in at the thought that what she’d shared with Alec had been a figment of her imagination.

She started to twist around but then whimpered as a searing hot pain burned through her shoulder.

“It’s all right, Connie,” Alec’s deep voice sounded in the space, and it soothed her as nothing else could.

“Alec?” She turned her head to her left and saw him sitting next to the bed. Relief flooded through her. Thank goodness, it hadn’t been a dream. Though something must have happened as Alec looked terrible; his eyes were red-rimmed, and the beginnings of a very scruffy beard covered the lower half of his face. “What happened to you?” she asked, her voice a scratchy whisper, her throat feeling drier than she could remember it ever being. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

His face split into a grin and he laughed. “I haven’t, actually.” He leaned over to the bedside table and poured a glass of water. “Here, take a sip.”

Carefully he helped support her neck with one of his hands while he used the other to bring the glass up to her lips. She took in a greedy sip of water, and the coolness of it washed down her throat like a soothing tonic. Water had never tasted so deliciously sweet before. She took a final sip and then pulled back. “Duncan is still dead, isn’t he? I wasn’t dreaming up all of that, was I?”

“He’s dead, lass,” Alec replied as he gently laid her head back against the cushion and returned the glass to the table. “He can’t hurt you ever again.”

Connie was glad of it. “I’m guessing I’m the cause of why you haven’t slept, then?”

His grin vanished, and suddenly his eyes looked haunted. “Aye. You’ve been burning with fever for more than two days.” He gulped hard. “I thought I was going to lose you at one point… You darn near scared the devil out of me.”

“It was that bad?”

All he could do was nod. He reached for her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers and then squeezed very gently.

The touch filled Connie with warmth. “Am I going to be all right?”

“Aye, you will be. But promise me, lass, that you won’t ever scare me like that again.” He gently lifted her hand up to his chest. “My heart couldn’t take it.”

Her own heart started to race upon hearing his words. Was he suggesting what she hoped he was?

“And now that you’re out of danger, I think I’m going to sleep for a week or more.”

Connie grinned at him, but then she remembered the events that had nearly killed her. “What about Mrs. Mor—Lady MacKinnon? Was she arrested?”

Alec shook his head. “Nay. My brother got into a struggle for the gun with her, and she tried to shoot him, but the muzzle was pointing at her chest instead. She’s dead.”

“Does Lady Lorelie know what happened?” Connie felt sorry for her. To not only find out that your mother had staged her own death, but had killed many people in the process, all for revenge, would be a difficult thing for anyone to discover.

“Iain is going to inform the earl and Lady Lorelie when they visit here shortly, as soon as we send word you are out of the woods,” Alec replied. “Which we will do later today now that you’re awake. I thought perhaps you might want a visit with Amelie, but if you don’t feel up to it—”

“Yes! A visit with her would be perfect. I’ve missed her so much,” Connie enthused, and a sense of overwhelming love consumed her for this man, who’d thought of that for her. “But is it wise for your brother to tell them what happened? I thought your brother and Lady Lorelie couldn’t stand each other?”

“They clash like cymbals whenever they meet,” Alec agreed. “But Iain feels responsible for Lady MacKinnon’s death, so he believes it is only fitting that he himself is the one to inform them personally of what occurred.”

“He blames himself?”

“Aye, he does.”

“He shouldn’t.” Connie still got a chill when she pictured the woman’s eyes, which were filled with hate and revenge. “She truly was unhinged and would have killed us all if given the chance.”

“I know, and I think Iain knows that, too, though he’s still berating himself, that with his size, he should have easily been able to wrestle the gun from her hands instead of being shot himself.”

Connie gasped. “He was shot? Is he all right? What happened?”

“When he was struggling with the lady, she let off a shot, which struck his arm. Iain was able to twist the gun away, but she pulled the trigger again and ended up shooting herself clean through the heart,” Alec explained. “Iain still blames himself for her death.”

“She was stronger than she looked.” Connie had felt that herself when she’d wrestled with the woman. “And she was on a mission. A dangerous thing for someone who is emotionally unstable.”

A knock sounded at the door, and Alec yelled to come in as he glanced over his shoulder.

His heart slammed in his chest when he saw a policeman standing there.

…

“You two have been darn difficult to find,” the police officer said from the doorway.

Instantly, Alec’s body braced in defense. Standing, he stalked over to the doorway, his body blocking the police officer’s view of Connie. He kept walking straight toward the sergeant, who was forced to take a few hasty steps backward into the hallway.

Pulling the door closed behind him, Alec stood in front of it with his hands crossed over his chest. He slowly assessed the man. “You had better not be here to arrest the duchess. If you are, you’d best be expecting a fight.”

The officer held his hands up in a placating gesture. “No, I promise you I’m not here to do that. My name is Sergeant Jarrod Clemmings, and though I was originally tasked with apprehending the duchess, that is certainly no longer the case.”

“It isn’t?” Alec was still suspicious.

“No,” the man confirmed. “I’ve spoken to your brother and Lord Fergus, who have both given statements about everything that happened. I know the duchess is completely innocent of murdering anyone.”

The man’s words relieved Alec, as he hadn’t particularly fancied the thought of assaulting a police officer, but there was no way he was going to let anyone take Connie from him again. “Then what are you doing here still?”

“Goodness, you and your brother are alike, are you not?” The sergeant shook his head. “I’m still here as I wished to let you know that the arrest warrants issued for the duchess have been retracted, however I will still need to obtain a statement from her—when she is fully recovered, of course.”

Alec nodded. Finally, she could stop running; they both could. “That is acceptable. I shall send word when she is recovered.”

“I must say I always thought there was something fishy about the whole situation,” the sergeant said. “Though who would have imagined Lady MacKinnon had orchestrated this whole thing? Blimey unbelievable it was. Though the lengths some will go to when they’re overcome with grief are very long indeed.”

“That information is not to be made public until Clan MacKinnon are informed, sergeant,” Alec warned, taking a step toward the officer.

“No need to worry on that score.” The sergeant didn’t seem to be too intimidated by Alec. “I’ve already been threatened by your brother, whom I’ve given my word to that I shan’t release that information until the end of the week. Anyhow, I’d best be off now. Clearly, I’ve overstayed my welcome, and I don’t think I’d fancy bumping into your father, if he’s as welcoming as his two sons.” The man bowed his head. “I’ll appreciate you letting me know once the duchess is fully recovered.”

The man held out his hand, and Alec shook it before watching the sergeant stroll down the hall to the main staircase, passing his brother Iain in the process. Iain nodded to the officer before striding toward Alec.

“How is she?” Iain asked, stopping across the hall from where Alec was still standing in front of the bedchamber door.

“The fever broke this morning, thankfully,” Alec replied. “And she’s awake, so she is going to be fine. How’s your arm?”

Iain’s gaze flicked down to the bandage wrapped around his upper biceps and he shrugged. “’Tis only a flesh wound.”

“A flesh wound can still become infected.”

His brother held up his hands in surrender. “I’m following doctor’s orders and cleaning it daily with some saltwater, I swear.”

Alec smiled. “Good.”

“Am I right to let the MacKinnons know that they can visit with Amelie then?” Iain asked, though for some reason Alec could see anxiety in his brother’s eyes, and he couldn’t for the life of him remember seeing Iain ever uncertain before.

“Will you be all right telling them what occurred?”

Iain shrugged. “She’ll blame me for her mother’s death. And why wouldn’t she? Considering I was responsible for it. She’ll probably never forgive me.”

“Lady Lorelie?”

“Aye,” Iain confirmed.

“You weren’t responsible for her mother’s death, Iain.” Alec had never seen his brother like this, and he noticed Iain seemed concerned only about Lady Lorelie. “Lady MacKinnon tried to kill Connie, and she would have happily put a bullet in each of us if she’d gotten a chance. I know you didn’t mean for her to die, but she was the one with her finger on the trigger, trying to kill you. You need to remember that, brother. And even if Lady Lorelie might not understand it at first, I’m sure over time, she’ll come to accept the truth of it and realize that you really weren’t to blame.”

Iain nodded though didn’t look convinced. “Anyhow, thankfully your duchess is going to be all right and is through the worst of it.”

“Aye, I don’t think I’ve ever prayed so hard in my life.” He’d never been more relieved than when she’d opened her eyes this morning. For the past two days he’d barely left her side, and even then, only reluctantly to use the bathroom. “And a large part of that is thanks to you. If you hadn’t come looking for me at the lodge and accompanied me, I would have been wrestling the gun from that madwoman, instead of saving Connie. And I might have lost her, if I hadn’t been able to stem the flow of blood from her wound that quickly. And losing her… Well, that is something I don’t think I would have ever recovered from. I am sorry I chose her to save over you. Never have I been placed in a more difficult position.”

“You love her.” It was a statement rather than a question, and the truth of it no longer scared Alec, but filled him with happiness. “There was no choice to make. I’m sure if I ever allowed myself to love a woman, as you love Connie, I would do the same thing.”

“Aye, I do love her.” When he’d been holding his cravat to her wound, watching her blood soak into it, he’d understood then that she might leave him for good. He’d also realized that if she were gone, he’d be truly a broken man, for he’d never loved anyone like he loved Connie. What he had felt for Elise was nothing compared to the emotions Connie stirred in him. “Thank you, brother, for being there for me and helping me on that day. God knows how it would have turned out if I’d been on my own.”

“It was nothing.” Iain shrugged, but then he breathed in a deep breath. “I would do anything for you, brother. And I know it’s too little, too late, but I am sorry for what I did all those years ago. There hasn’t been a day since that I haven’t regretted my actions, and I hope there will come a time you’ll forgive me.”

Alec himself gulped in a lungful of air before taking a step forward and grabbing his brother in a half bear hug, mindful of his brother’s injured arm. “I do forgive you. And I’m sorry, too, Iain. I should have given you a chance to explain. If anything, this whole experience with Connie being shot has really rammed home how important it is to love and to forgive. Life is too short for anything else.”

For so long Alec had held such animosity toward his brother for the part he’d played with Elise. But now his brother had helped save the woman Alec loved. And in looking back at it, he knew in his heart that what Iain had done had been out of love for him. Obviously very misguided, but his brother was stubborn and fierce, and that had been the only way he’d known how to show Alec Elise’s true nature.

And in the end, Alec couldn’t blame him, because without actually seeing Elise kissing Iain, he never would have believed such a thing possible. And had Iain not pretended to be interested in Elise, she may well have agreed to marry Alec, and then Alec would have been stuck with a wife who was faithless. Plus, then he would never have been in a position to fall in love with Connie.

That would have been the true tragedy.

Though he still didn’t know if she truly loved him, too. Certainly, she’d whispered she loved him before Fergus took her, but had that really been the case, or simply something she’d said, thinking they’d never see each other again? A part of him was scared to know the truth, because what if it was the latter? And what if she did want to be a widow, with all the freedom that entailed? Would she really choose to give up her newfound independence?

A sniffling sound echoed down the hallway, and Alec and Iain pulled apart and turned toward the noise. Farther down the corridor stood their father, who looked suspiciously like he had a tear or two sliding down his weathered cheeks.

“Bloody dusty in this hallway,” their father commented, quickly swiping away at the wetness on his face as he strolled over to them. “Irritating my eyes, is what it’s doing. I’ll have to get the staff on it right away.”

Alec and Iain exchanged a smile, and the camaraderie they’d shared so effortlessly years before seemed to be returning. It felt a long time overdue.

“I’m glad to see you two have finally started to put your differences aside. About bloody time.” His father glanced to the door behind Alec. “How’s she doing?”

“The fever broke this morning,” Alec replied.

“Thank goodness for that.” His father clapped him on the back. “She’s a fighter, that one.”

She certainly was. “Aye.” Alec nodded.

“One worth keeping, I’d suggest,” his brother added.

“Aye,” his father agreed. “Even though she’s English.”

Their father had never forgiven their mother for the heartache she’d caused him, all those years ago, and often blamed her heritage on her unfaithfulness. And though Alec didn’t think her heritage had had anything to do with it, his mother, after all, had proved to be so consumed by her own wants and desires that Alec doubted it would have made a difference in which country she’d been born.

But his father and brother were both right. Connie was a fighter, and she was most definitely worth keeping.

The only question was, would she want him? She was now finally free from the shackles of marriage, and he certainly couldn’t offer her the grandeur she’d been used to as a duchess. But he was going to try his hardest to convince her that he’d do his best to make her happy.