Chapter Three

The swirling sea of ladies and gentlemen, gossiping and laughing as they milled about the ballroom, nearly had Connie turning tail and striding back to her bedchamber. But she couldn’t. The repercussions of doing so would be too great. Duncan would ensure that.

Instead, she’d paused at the top of the stairs and mustered all the inner strength she had left. Then she’d raised her chin and took ahold of the skirts of her dress with her gloved hand and slowly walked down the grand staircase, each step sending a small jolt of pain lancing through her body. But nonetheless, she ensured a serene smile graced her face the entire time.

Connie had become nothing if not a master at pretending.

Coming to the bottom of the steps, she began the almost automatic routine of greeting and charming the guests. A smile here, a laugh there, and a compliment thrown into the mix. Yes, she was an excellent hostess, able to make all welcome and relaxed.

For a mad moment, she wondered how relaxed they’d be if she actually spoke the truth of what went on in her private hell. They’d most likely think she was insane, for her husband was an expert at acting the attentive spouse in front of guests.

But as much as she felt like shouting the truth from the rooftops, she couldn’t let them suspect anything was amiss. A past lesson, in the way of some broken ribs and the threat of locking her in an insane asylum, had taught her that.

It was then she caught a glimpse of her husband through the crowd. He was standing across the room, charming several dowagers, who were hanging on his every word.

He was a handsome man. There was no denying that. With his tall frame and air of rakishness about him, he was never short of admirers. But then he glanced toward her, and she could see the almost imperceptible downturn of his lips, the displeasure in his gaze.

Her entire body went rigid, and she had to force the smile to stay firmly affixed to her face. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice her brief reaction, and she continued to nod and smile to those around her, all the while aware of Duncan in the distance.

He was obviously angry she’d made her appearance after the ball had commenced, but if she’d done so any earlier, it would have been apparent she’d been crying, and he would have punished her far more for that transgression than for being late.

As it was, Connie’s eyes were slightly red, though with the whiskey and champagne floating around, most of the guests would be happily oblivious. And hopefully Duncan would drink himself into a stupor, too, and then he’d forget she’d ever been late, and for a blissful night, he’d also forget she existed.

She’d have to have a quick word with the housekeeper, Mrs. Morgan, and ensure that his glass was constantly being refilled. Mrs. Morgan was always more than happy to assist, sympathetic to her mistress’s plight, especially considering the woman’s own daughter had been subjected to a husband who also liked to dish out punishment with his fists.

Sometimes Connie wished a plague on all men. Well, perhaps not all. Her brother Richard was honorable and kind, and she missed him like crazy, having not seen him since her wedding day, as he was always in Europe working on his clandestine missions for the government—not that he knew she knew of his work, but she did.

Many times, she’d thought of writing and telling Richard the truth. He, at least, would protect her, as her mother wouldn’t. But she couldn’t reveal to him what really occurred behind the closed doors of Castle Kilmaine. If she did, her brother would literally kill Duncan with his bare hands, and she would not see Richard hung over the piece of vermin that was her husband.

She caught sight of Duncan again, who was now without a glass of drink and seemed to be slowly weaving his way closer to her. Her breathing began to quicken, as did her pulse. She needed to have the servants begin to ply him with alcohol, as only then would his fixation on her wane. Yes, she must rectify the situation immediately. And remove herself from his line of sight.

Connie excused herself from the guests around her before hurrying across the room and through the alcove into the hallway leading toward the kitchens. As she walked down the dimly lit hall, approaching the stairs to the servants’ domain, a strange, tingling awareness began to creep up her neck. She had the bizarre sensation of being watched.

“Duchess,” a deep voice drawled, the Scottish brogue nowhere near as harsh as what she’d become accustomed to, but a very comforting and a familiar whisper from her childhood.

Stopping, she slowly spun around.

There, striding toward her, was Alec McGuiness.

The breadth of his shoulders and his height almost took up the entire corridor. Or at least it felt that way. She’d forgotten how strong and commanding his presence had always been.

He seemed fiercer now, too. But she didn’t feel scared. She felt like running toward him and throwing herself into the safety of his arms. Instead, she stayed rooted to the spot. “Alec…” she whispered. “Is that really you?”

The whites of his teeth flashed brightly as he grinned at her before stopping a mere foot away. “Aye. It is.”

She had to crane her neck up slightly to meet his deep chocolate brown eyes. She’d forgotten how tall he was. Though, most men were tall compared to her five-foot four-inch stature. But Alec’s athletic frame and height certainly were an intimidating combination, and his steady gaze and solidness gave him an aura of strength.

This was a man who could be depended upon.

Connie felt her pulse start to flutter.

He’d always made her feel vulnerable, in a way she’d never understood. Probably why she’d been so horrid to him in the past. She’d never appreciated feeling anything less than in control, and she’d never felt in control with Alec. He’d always seemed immune to her charms, and she’d been unable to dazzle him as she could with other men. It had annoyed her often. Because as a debutant, she’d wanted to dazzle him rather desperately.

“What are you doing here?” Connie whispered, peering past him toward the ballroom. If Duncan saw her alone with another man, there would be hell to pay.

“I’ve come to see how you are.” His voice was like a rich whiskey, caressing in its warmth.

She’d always loved the gentle Scottish brogue of his accent, imagining she could lose herself for hours just listening to him.

“Sophie asked me to check on you,” he continued, his gaze studying her meticulously.

The mention of her best friend brought with it such a sense of longing that she felt like bawling. Goodness, she really was starting to go mad. And of course, Alec would check on her if Sophie asked. He’d do anything for Sophie. Who wouldn’t, though? Sophie was the kindest and most wonderful person Connie knew.

The very thought of her dear friend sent a pang of loneliness straight to her heart. She had not seen her since Connie’s own wedding to Duncan. Originally, after Connie had married, they’d both sworn to stay in touch with lots of letters, but very quickly Connie hadn’t kept up her end of the bargain, even though Sophie religiously sent a letter every month.

At first, Connie hadn’t written back as she’d been physically unable to, laid up in bed recovering from the first beating Duncan had given her, with none of her family or friends in England aware anything was amiss. And after she’d eventually recovered, she’d occasionally written back, pretending that everything was just wonderful and begging Sophie to excuse her for not writing often, as she was so busy with her social engagements.

She’d never been able to tell her friend the truth, of course, as Duncan always ensured he read any mail she penned before it was sent out.

Another way of isolating her from her life in England.

Eventually, though, Connie had gotten so upset to be continually lying to her friend that it was easier to simply not write back at all. But of course, Sophie would ask Alec to check on her when he was in the Highlands. That’s just the sort of person Sophie was, even though for all intents and purposes, Connie had not bothered to write back to her in months.

She grabbed ahold of Alec’s hand, trying not to notice the frisson of energy that raced through her arm from the contact. Quickly, she led him down the hall, toward the library. It was the one place Duncan never bothered to set foot in. Her sanctuary of sorts. They’d be able to talk there without fear of interruption. At least for a little while.

Opening the door, she urged him inside before swiftly closing the door behind them. Thankfully, Mrs. Morgan always ensured the gaslights were lit of an evening, knowing it was the one place in the entire castle Connie felt safe. Or at least safer than anywhere else while Duncan was in residence.

Taking a deep breath, she turned around, only to be caught in Alec’s penetrating gaze. She’d forgotten how handsome he was. A strange combination of rugged athleticism mixed with the air of a scholar. But there was also a steadiness to him, a gentle strength, that Connie felt drawn to. This was a man who would have no need to take out his anger on anyone weaker than he. She’d never met a more honorable or honest man.

She cringed with the thought of how badly she’d once treated him. Often ignoring him at assemblies and the like, simply because he hadn’t fawned over her like the other men had.

She’d been a fool.

“Sophie sent you, then?” was all Connie could think to say. She must sound like an imbecile.

“She asked me to check on you.” He paused, staring steadily at her. “So how are you, Lady Connie?”

He was still calling her by her maiden title, and there was something so familiar about him doing so, it reminded her of a time long ago. A time she wished she could escape back to.

Unable to withstand his close scrutiny, she strode over to the hearth and closed her eyes for a second, fighting the urge to cry again. She’d thought her tears from earlier were well and truly dried up.

It would be so easy to tell Alec what had been happening. He would believe her. Probably try to save her, too. But what could he do, when up against the powerful Duke of Kilmaine, whose word was law in these parts? And though she knew Alec could defend himself in a fight, Duncan never fought fairly. Her husband had enough servants and guards around the estate to ensure that Alec would be outnumbered.

No. She couldn’t risk getting him hurt. She’d never forgive herself if he did.

Filling her lungs with a hearty breath, she turned back to face him, and once again, she plastered a serene smile on her face. “Everything is fine. Absolutely fine, in fact.”

But Alec didn’t smile back. Instead he frowned. “Don’t lie to me, Connie.” He strode across to her, until she found herself staring at the crisp white cravat covering his neck.

She gasped softly as his hand gently tilted her chin upward, until her eyes met his. Warring with the frisson of fear from having a man touch her was a giddy sensation fluttering in her stomach. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched her with such tenderness. If ever, actually.

“What’s going on? And I’ll have the truth this time, please.” Alec’s voice was firm, but she could hear the concern in it. It had been so long since she’d felt that anyone cared.

“As I said before, everything is fine, Doctor McGuiness.” She carefully reached up and very deliberately pushed his hand away from under her chin. “And you take too many liberties touching me and calling me by my first name. I am a duchess now. Or have you forgotten?” Perhaps if she sounded condescending, as she’d often done in the past with him, he’d believe her, and go.

“Aye. I’m well aware of that fact.” He stepped back and bowed stiffly. “Forgive me, your grace.”

There was contempt in his voice, and Connie felt her heart sink. He would forever remember her as being a coldhearted shrew, she was sure of that. And though a part of her hated knowing he would, at least he’d be safe.

“You can tell Sophie that all is well.” She was glad her voice sounded steady, when inside she felt like she was shattering into tiny pieces. “Now if you will excuse me, I have duties to attend to.” She inclined her head at him before sweeping past him toward the door.

She extended her hand toward the doorknob when, from behind her, Alec reached over her shoulder and pressed his palm against the wood. Preventing her from opening it and leaving.

“You’re not going anywhere, duchess. At least not until you tell me what the devil is going on.” His voice was a warm whisper against her ear. “Because I can tell things are certainly not fine. Please, Connie. I want to help.”

Connie gulped hard. She was wedged between him and the door, with his chest ever so gently pressing against her back. He was stopping her from leaving, but she didn’t feel scared. No. Instead, the sudden urge to turn around and press her own chest against his was nearly overwhelming.

Oh, Good Lord. She wanted to know what it would feel like to touch him. How it would feel to be touched with affection instead of anger… Dangerous thoughts to be thinking.

Slowly she turned around and tilted her head up to face him.

This close, she could see the rough stubble slowly beginning to cover his jaw and cheeks. And rather than pushing him away, as she should, she reached up and brushed her fingers lightly across the edge of his jawline, slowly tracing his stubble.

He breathed in sharply, and with some satisfaction, she saw desire flare in his eyes.

“What are you doing, Constance?” His voice was unexpectedly thick, though he made no move to step away.

Leaning in closer toward him, she was enveloped in his woodsy scent. A combination of sandalwood and soap. Clean and fresh, and so very masculine. A smell she wanted to wrap herself in.

Connie knew she was playing with fire. But right in this instant with Alec, she felt safe, in a way she hadn’t for a very long time. Not since she’d gotten married. And she so desperately wanted to feel safe.

The reality of the situation returned with an almost jarring impact, the image of her husband swimming vividly to mind.

What was she doing? Even she didn’t really know. But she did know she was risking Alec’s life if Duncan caught them in such a position. Not that they’d done anything untoward, even if a part of her was craving to. But Duncan would think the worst. For as much as her husband despised her, she was also his favorite play toy, and he was a jealous man.

Fear wrapped around her, its grip almost choking in its intensity.

She needed Alec to leave now. Before Duncan decided to search her out. But Alec was a stubborn man. He always had been. And if he was determined to get answers, he wouldn’t budge, not until she gave them to him. Telling him the truth, though, would only make matters worse.

“Very well. The truth is I’m bored. I thought you and I could have a liaison, you see,” she began, hoping her patronizing tone would deflect him from his purpose. “As a duchess, I thought it might be fun to allow a man who works for a living to pleasure me. Surely it would alleviate my boredom…at least perhaps it would.”

She nearly cringed at her own words. He really would think her horrid. But he’d be safe.

An equal mix of happiness and disappointment coursed through her when Alec took a very deliberate step away from her, a cold aloofness masking his features.

“I shall not bother you again tonight, Duchess.” He walked past her to the door beside where she stood and opened it.

Her feet felt frozen to the spot. The thought that she’d never see him again hurt more than she thought possible.

He paused at the threshold. “But if you do feel like actually telling me the truth, instead of trying to push me away… I will always help you. You just have to trust me.”

Spinning around, she could see the steady patience on his face. He hadn’t believed her. A part of her was relieved but another perturbed. What if she did want an affair? He didn’t know she wouldn’t dare to do such a thing.

“I really don’t know what you mean.” Would he believe her bluff? He hadn’t seemed to yet. “I told you everything is fine.”

“I can see the bruising under the lace of your sleeves, your grace.”

Automatically Connie glanced down at her arms. She’d been certain that the material covered up the worst of the bruises, even with the slight gaps in the lace. Alec was right, though, some of the bruising was showing through faintly, but only to a trained eye. Which was exactly what his was.

She steeled herself and raised her eyes back up to meet his. “I should have remembered you were extremely observant.”

“Yes. You should have.” His voice was firm but gentle. “Are you going to tell me the truth of what’s happening?”

“I can’t…”

He was silent for a moment, simply staring at her, and Connie felt like his eyes were almost trying to penetrate into the recesses of her soul. “I fear I know what’s going on. But tell me this. Will you be safe tonight?”

An overwhelming sense of warmth filled her. It had been such a long time since anyone had asked her that. Knowing that Alec cared enough to check made her feel a little bit less alone.

Connie nodded. “Yes, I will be.” Well, she would be safe, after she spoke to Mrs. Morgan and ensured Duncan was too inebriated to do anything to her.

“Good. I’m staying at the Bull and Bush Inn on the outskirts of town,” he continued. “I was going to leave in the morning, but I’ve decided to stay.”

“For how long?” She couldn’t stop herself from asking.

He stared steadily at her. “Until you decide to tell me the full truth, my lady. And until I’m certain you’ll be safe from your husband.”

Inclining his head, he then turned on his heel and walked out the door. She heard the clip of his boots slowly receding down the hallway as he retreated back toward the main ballroom.

Taking in several deep gulps of air, Connie focused on calming down. She didn’t know what to think or what to feel after her encounter with Alec. She’d always thought that she’d be mortified if someone she knew from her old life found out what was happening now, but all she felt was relief.

Absolute relief that she wasn’t quite so alone.

But before she could spend time analyzing it all, she had to find Mrs. Morgan and get Duncan sorted out.

Peering into the darkened hallway, she checked it was all clear, then left the library and walked toward the servants’ staircase. Suddenly she stopped, an uneasy sensation of being watched once again washing over her.

She glanced up and down the corridor. But she was alone, the rest of the servants either busy in the ballroom or downstairs preparing the food for supper. Very odd. She could have sworn she’d felt someone’s eyes upon her…

Connie shrugged it off, a slight shiver running down her spine, before continuing on to speak with Mrs. Morgan. After all, the longer she left getting word to the housekeeper, the longer it would take Duncan to drink himself stupid and be too inebriated to do anything to her later tonight. She picked up her pace. Then she’d make her escape from the ballroom and have at least one night’s peace.

And once in bed, she could long for the nothingness that sleep would provide. Or, if not nothingness, then at least a respite from her usual nightmares, with perhaps dreams of her past visiting her instead… Better times, where she was blissfully unaware of the cruelty life could incur.