by Platt, Meara
“Where did you intend for him to stay?”
“I thought it was a good opportunity for him to get to know my youngest brother, his Uncle Adam. I meant to drop him off with Adam, who is vicar in Wellesford, a small town in the Cotswolds, not far from Oxford. He and his wife, Lady Remi, are eager to spend time with my son.”
She pursed her lips as she took in the information he was providing. The gesture drew his attention to her nicely shaped mouth and made him want to kiss her.
Och, dinna be a damned idiot.
“It’s a long journey from Inverness to London, and having the lad with me…well, I thought it best to break it up a little. We stayed at Coldstream Castle for a few days before continuing our journey south. Coldstream is the seat of the Earl of Hume. His grandson, Thaddius, is married to Penelope Sherbourne, sister of the Earl of Welles. Welles is a good man, even if he is a Sassenach.”
She smiled. “And the town of Wellesford is part of the Earl of Welles’ holdings?”
He nodded. “I thought it would be helpful for my son to get to know Lady Penelope and hear her stories of Wellesford. I hoped he would feel a little less lost when I left him there for a few weeks. Of course, he would be in the excellent care of my brother and his wife. Still, since we lost Rafe’s mother only about a year ago, I felt he needed that extra bit of comfort.”
He sighed and continued. “We were a half day’s ride south of Coldstream when our carriage suddenly overturned. My son and I would have been hurt, except by chance we were riding beside the carriage and not sitting in it. Since the day was fine and sun was shining, I had taken him on my lap as I rode my horse alongside it.”
“Did you immediately suspect foul play?”
“No, lass. Wheels are known to break on occasion, but it wasn’t until a day later when the wheelright reported his suspicion to me. The wheel had been partially cut through, designed to break as we rode along the rougher patches of road. I didn’t know what to make of it. To be cautious, I sent word to Lord Hume to report what had happened. Not to blame him, for I do not hold him responsible at all. But I wanted to alert him in the event someone intended to cause him mischief and had tampered with my carriage mistaking it for his.”
“You had a mishap in York only last week,” she said, seeming to absorb his every word. “Was it the second incident? Or were there others prior?”
“A few others immediately prior, while we were in York. The weather was bad, so I decided we should stay there for the holidays, just me and my son. I felt he needed my attention, and we were not in any particular hurry to reach Wellesford. The city was hit by a snow storm, but once it cleared, my son and I went out for a walk. We were not far from Yorkminster when a cart suddenly came at us, careening out of control. It would have hit my son if I hadn’t grabbed him and pulled him out of the way in time.”
“The poor lad!”
“Fortunately, I managed to twist my body to take the brunt of the fall. He wasn’t hurt. Nor was I beyond a bruise or two. The following night, someone attempted to break into our room, but ran off when I awoke. By the time I lit my lamp and tossed on my trousers, the culprit was long gone. I dared not leave my son alone to chase after this intruder.”
“So you’ve been sharing your quarters with Master Rafe the entire time?”
“Yes, since leaving our home in Inverness.”
“Did the lad not have a governess? You brought your valet along. He was with you until his mishap in York, which you will tell me about in a moment. But shouldn’t the boy have had someone to tend him on this journey?”
“Yes, ordinarily he would have. But I discharged his governess about a month ago.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “And do you not find it a coincidence that your troubles began shortly afterward?”
“I did consider it, but ruled it out. The woman is elderly and a tippler, that’s why I discharged her. She was so drunk one afternoon, she took a tumble down the stairs and almost dragged my son down with her. I blame myself. I should not have kept her on after my wife died. But she had been my wife’s governess and the two were devoted to each other. Since we were leaving for London within a matter of days, I did not bother to engage someone new.”
Her eyes rounded in obvious surprise. “So you’ve been attending to your son ever since?”
He snorted. “Lass, why do ye look so appalled? He’s a little boy. He knows how to wash himself. My valet assisted him in dressing. After that, everywhere I went, he went with me. He was cared for by a governess once we reached Coldstream Castle. Lady Penelope has a competent staff and they took over duties for the lad while we were there. Of course, had I known of the impending danger, I never would have let him out of my sight.”
“But nothing untoward had happened yet,” she muttered, more to herself. “Are you certain there were no incidents prior to your departing Coldstream?”
“Yes, quite sure. The incidents began on the road to York. I mentioned that I had sent word to Lord Hume at Coldstream, but we made several stops at coaching inns to rest the horses after we left his home. The villain could have sabotaged my coach at any one of those stops. Then there were several more incidents in York. So, at the Duke of Devon’s insistence, I diverted my route and came to Hartland. I can see it was the right choice. If this villain makes an attempt here, I have every confidence he’ll be caught.”
Taffy nodded. “Or she. You’ve never set eyes on this person, so far as you know. Therefore, no one can be ruled out.”
He smiled wryly. This girl had been two steps ahead of him from the moment he arrived. “Aye, lass. It is just as ye say.”
She returned his smile with a surprisingly sweet one of her own, but reverted to her earnest self in another moment. “My lord, may we speak of your wife? I do not wish to pry. But I cannot yet rule out any connection to her…or her death. I sincerely apologize for invading your privacy, but would you tell me how she died?”
Blessed saints.
That was a hornet’s nest in itself, for theirs had not been a happy marriage. He was not about to confess such a thing to Taffy. Nor would he ever discuss it with anyone, not even his dearest family. It was no one’s damn business. “No. It is not relevant.”
He noted the brief blaze of irritation in her eyes. “My lord, will you not let me be the judge of that? I am the trained professional.” She kept her gaze on him as she dealt him the toughest blow. “You may have no care for your own life, and if you wish to be stupid about it, then indeed it is none of my business. But it is obvious you love your son with all your being. Will you put his life at risk for this?”
“Did ye just call me stupid, lass?” He should have been in a rage over it, but there was something about this girl, her vitality and enthusiasm, all wrapped up in a plain black gown and capped with that irksome mobcap covering her hair.
She gasped and shot to her feet, her hands clenched in dismay at the realization she’d just insulted him. “My lord, forgive me.”
She was also clever and compassionate, for it was obvious she cared for Rafe and would feel it in her soul if the lad ever got hurt. So would he, and yet he was too prideful to talk about his wife when it was obviously important.
Stupid, indeed.
He couldn’t summon so much as mild indignation.
The lass was right. He was being stubborn and she was ready to risk her life to protect him and his son.
Her eyes remained rounded in alarm. “It is not at all what I meant. Sometimes I get so caught up in my duties that I…well, there is no excuse for it, is there?”
He rose and took her hands in his, surprised by the jolt that coursed through him at their mere touch. But he did not release her just yet. “I was being stupid. Ye have no need to apologize to me.”
He glanced at the bed where Rafe was still comfortably sleeping, the boy’s occasional snuffles reaching his ears. “The lad is everything to me. Go ahead, ask yer questions. Give me yer word that ye’ll keep what I tell ye in confidence.”
“Verra well, lass. Give me yer word that it shall not go beyond the two of ye.”
She nodded. “Yes, my lord. That I can do. You have my solemn oath.”
“Good.” He released her hands then motioned for her to resume her seat. He sat as well and leaned forward, resuming his earlier posture, arms resting on his thighs. “What do ye wish to know about my wife?”
CHAPTER FOUR
TAFFY KNEW SHE had to tread carefully when questioning the marquis about his wife. She was not so callous as to dismiss the pain it would likely cause him. But sometimes it was best to simply rip off that scab in one quick motion rather than attempt to do it delicately and cause more harm.
An odd feeling had flowed through her the moment he had touched her hands. He’d let go of them now, but she still felt their enveloping warmth. The feeling lingered and she could not make it go away. Nor could she stop the tingles that were shooting through her body like little bolts of lightning.
As pleasant as these sensations were, and as wonderful as his touch had been, they only made her acutely aware of the emptiness of having no one to love.
He had done nothing wrong, of course.
But meeting him, and knowing he was completely out of her reach, saddened her. She would never find such a man willing to marry her. She was a foundling, no better than a mutt off the streets. “It is easier if you give me a history of your marriage from first meeting your wife to the time of her…passing. Who was she? How did you meet and marry? Was it a happy marriage? Did she have other suitors for her hand? Were any of them angered when she chose you over them? And during the marriage…forgive me, my lord. Did she have other men who paid her attention even though she was married to you? Then, of course, how did she die?”
“Blessed saints, these are deeply personal questions. Why not start with my business affairs first?”
She was not pleased to be led away from her purpose, but shook her head in agreement. She would dispose of the business interrogation quickly. “Do you have business enemies?”
“I have competitors, but none I would ever call enemies. To my knowledge, I have not ruined anyone’s livelihood. It is not my way.”
“And your father?”
“As Duke of Inverness, it is his duty to care for his people, not harm them. Our Fraser clan has been at peace with the neighboring clans for many years now. MacKenzie, MacKintosh, Campbell, Munro. The most powerful ones, too. Moray and Ross. The Grants used to be a thorn in our side, but I married Vera Grant to consolidate a lasting peace between us. We maintain good relations now.”
“Since this seems to rule out business relations, then we have all the more reason to believe this is a personal matter. I wish I could avoid stirring up these painful memories, but it is important we get some solid clues. It is obvious this villain wishes to kill your son as well as you. That is a deeply wicked and personal thing.”
He said nothing, merely frowned.
“Did your wife have a beau before you came along? Perhaps someone among those pesky Grants? A clan member who loved her and felt spurned? Someone with a possessive and jealous nature?”
“Aye, she was a beautiful girl and had several young men in love with her. But Rafe is her son, part of her lives within him. Why would anyone who loved her wish to destroy that?”
“You would never do such a thing, my lord. But others might look at the boy and think he has been tainted by you. This is how a twisted soul would think, because it would take someone quite twisted and putrid to want to kill a defenseless child. Who were these men courting her?”
He absently ran a hand through his dark curls. “Let me think. It was about seven years ago now that we were betrothed, and obviously Vera’s father was keen to keep any spurned hotheads away from me lest the hoped for betrothal fell apart. But there were two who were present at the time and made their dissatisfaction known. Aldous Grant was a distant cousin of hers who believed – perhaps he had been led to believe – that Vera’s father would betroth her to him.”
“What did he look like?”
He snorted. “Big fellow, at least a head taller than me and I am no small man. Fiery red hair and a temper to match. But a man like that would be noticed wherever he went. He is a giant with hair the color of a flaming torch.”
“That is excellent, my lord. I will relay his description to Mr. Barrow. Now for the other disgruntled beau who was present at the time. Who was he?”
“Bruce Gordon, a laird of Clan Gordon and cousin of the Earl of Moray. The earl is a powerful man, and Laird Gordon would have become quite important to him with a marriage to Vera Grant.” He rubbed his hand across his face. “Och, he is a nondescript fellow. Average height, average build. Brown hair. No scars that I noticed. Nothing unusual or memorable about him other than he is a weasel and I took an instant dislike to him.”
“Hmm, that is interesting.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Often people respond to what they sense in others. You did not like him perhaps because you sensed he did not like you.”
He shrugged. “That man was a nothing, yet full of his own self importance. I canno’ believe Vera ever took him seriously. But to hear him talk, one would think theirs was a love to rival that of Romeo and Juliet. Er, do ye ken what I am speaking of? Shakespeare, lass?”
“Yes, my lord. I’ve read his work.” She tried not to sound indignant, for most young ladies of her station were not well educated. The Ralstons had considered education important even for an orphan like herself, so they had taught her to read and write with great proficiency. “This man, Bruce Gordon, interests me.”
“Och, he was insufferable.”
“And capable of believing your wife was madly in love with him? Perhaps also believing you were the brute who stole her from him? It is quite possible this belief festered over the years, do you not think?”
He stared at her, not moving a muscle, not even a twitch to his clenched jaw. She waited a long moment, hoping to give him time to consider the possibility that such a man could be his unknown assailant.
It seemed a little farfetched, but not impossible. An unimportant man who was so full of himself, now convinced theirs had been a love of all time. Such a man could easily delude himself into believing Vera had been cruelly treated. Indeed, such a man would have built up a grand Shakespearean tragedy in his twisted mind.
And cast the blame for all his perceived misery entirely on the marquis.
Something in this sort of man could have snapped upon learning of Vera’s death. Anger, malice, a desire for revenge simmering. Bubbling. Finally spilling over upon encountering him at Coldstream Castle or one of the coaching inns along the route south.
“My lord,” she continued gently, because this was only one possibility and she needed to find out who else might have loved his beautiful wife. “Were there any other suitors that you know of or that Vera might have mentioned at any time during your marriage?”
“Aye, lass. There was someone from Clan Sutherland, but he is married now and his wife is knocking out heirs so fast, I suspect theirs is a happy marriage. Also a MacPherson, but I think he died at Waterloo.” He swallowed hard. “Vera cried for days on end when she learned he had fallen in battle. I think he was the one who held her heart.”
Taffy stared at him, momentarily confused. “But she loved you.”
He cast her a bleak, wry smile. “What makes ye think that?”
“I…” Her face grew hot, as though she’d stuck it too close to the freshly stoked fire now burning in the hearth. “I’m so sorry, my lord. But you’re so…”
“I am what, Taffy?” He arched his gloriously dark eyebrow again,
his expression quite cynical.
She swallowed hard. “I don’t know you, of course. I can only speak based on my first impression of you.”
“And what is yer impression of me?”
“How can it matter to this investigation, my lord?”
“Answer me, Taffy. I’ve been truthful with ye and I deserve no less in return.”
She nodded because he was right. There could be no lies between them if she was going to successfully protect him and Rafe. There had to be complete honesty and unquestioned trust. “Quite so. You have a valid point. I want you to know that I will never lie to you. It is important that you and Rafe know this. As to your question. What is my impression of you? Well, my lord…”
“Out with it, Taffy.”
Could he tell that her face was in flames? “My impression…” She cleared her throat. “My first thought…” Oh, dear. This was so much harder than it ought to be. “You are the handsomest man I’ve ever met. You are smart. Kind. Rafe is very fortunate to have you as his father. This is why I assumed yours was a love marriage. I did not think any woman could resist you.”
She winced as she raised her gaze to his, and knew by the twitch of his lips that he thought her statement quite amusing, perhaps even foolish.
Her heart was now pounding.
Hot, bubbling blood coursed through her veins.
This was so humiliating. Had he squirmed under her questioning as she was squirming now? Her questions had been so deeply personal and invasive.
It never occurred to her that theirs had not been a match of the heart, at least on Vera’s part. How could she not fall deeply in love with this splendid man?
“Taffy, lass. It was not a love match.” He continued to hold her gaze. “Ye look so distressed. Dinna be on my behalf. Vera dinna love me. But neither did I love her.”
She did not bother to hide her surprise. “Then why did you marry her?”
“For the good of the clan, of course. This is why we both entered into the marriage without complaint. Aye, it helped that she was a beautiful woman. But she was not the sort of woman I ever could love.”