The Sinful Scot (Saints & Scoundrels)

by Maddison Michaels

  “And would ensure the estate still received her monthly dowry.” Alec saw his suspicions confirmed in the flash of knowledge and guilt in Fergus’s expression. A brilliant plan actually, if Fergus had killed Duncan. Deflect suspicion from himself onto Connie, have her declared insane, so no one would believe anything she said, and yet still receive the benefit of her dowry.

  “I shall not even dignify such a statement with a reply.” There was banked anger in the man’s eyes as he stared at Alec. “I have been more than generous in letting you see both Connie and my brother’s body; however, you have outstayed your welcome, and it’s time for you to go.”

  The thought of leaving Connie alone and unprotected went against all of Alec’s instincts. But if he pushed Fergus, the man might even assert his newfound dominion over the estate and the servants and have Alec arrested, too. Not that such a charge would stick, but it would certainly render him useless to help Connie, which he couldn’t allow.

  No. He needed to leave now and work out how the devil he was going to help Connie escape—and tonight, too, before it was too late.

  Chapter Eight

  The air blew in from across the loch, a crisp chillness about it that made Connie shiver. She pulled her overcoat in closer to her chest and pushed open the window more fully.

  She took in a steady breath of the brisk breeze, mentally preparing herself for the action she was about to take. Action that, once taken, she couldn’t go back from. Because not only was she soon about to step out onto the window ledge, which stood a rather decent two stories from the ground—which in itself was terrifying—but she was going to escape.

  And once she did, everyone would think her guilty.

  But she wasn’t going to sit around and be framed for murder.

  Though Alec had mentioned escape and being ready, she hadn’t heard from him since she’d watched him ride out of the bailey earlier that day, and Connie knew her time was running out. Besides, now was the occasion to take charge of her own future.

  Which meant she had to clear her name. And the only way to do so was to escape and find evidence that pointed to the true killer. Because, surely she hadn’t actually killed Duncan. And the only other person who had the means and the motive to do so was Fergus.

  Connie refused to go to the gallows, and after the visit from Fergus’s doctor, and all his questions, she suspected Fergus was thinking of sending her to a mental asylum in the morning, even before the inspector from Glasgow arrived.

  For a crime she was now getting more and more certain she didn’t commit, and though Fergus may have ultimately done her a favor by dispatching Duncan, he certainly was doing her no favors framing her for murder.

  However, before she could clear her name, she had to escape.

  Standing at the window, looking down the two levels toward the dark ground beneath, Connie wondered if a fall from two stories would actually kill her or simply break every bone in her body. The previous duchess had jumped from the roof parapets, which was double the height Connie was potentially falling from, and that had tragically killed the woman.

  Though that’s what Connie imagined had been the purpose of the woman’s leap. A feat Connie could understand, even if she couldn’t comprehend how the woman could have left her daughter all alone. She must have felt so desperate and trapped to do such a thing and leave an innocent child to essentially fend for herself.

  But at least now Amelie was safe, on her way to her grandfather and aunt’s estate, too far ahead for Fergus to stop them. Connie shook away the thoughts, for she had to focus on her own escape now. And the sooner the better, so she could put as much distance between herself and what were sure to be her pursuers.

  She couldn’t imagine Fergus just letting her flee without giving chase, once he found out she was gone.

  But it looked like such a long way down to the ground.

  She took in a deep breath of air. You can do it, Connie, she began to say to herself, over and over again. After all, she had to do it. She had no other choice.

  Turning back into the room, she hurried over to the bed and gathered up the makeshift rope she’d hidden under the bed frame, which she’d made from knotting together the sheets. She tied one end of it tightly to the leg of the bed and then dragged the rest across to the window before throwing it over the sill.

  The lock to the door suddenly turned, and the door opened. Connie felt her heart stop, and she had to stifle the scream about to burst out of her mouth as she swiveled around to face the threat.

  There, standing at the entrance, was Alec, with a rather purposeful expression on his face. He glanced to the open window and the rope hanging through it. “I thought they used bedsheet ropes to escape only in those gothic horror novels you used to read as a girl?”

  “How the devil did you get in here?” Connie demanded, ignoring his question, though slightly thrilled he had remembered something he’d oftentimes teased her over in the past. “You nearly frightened me to death!”

  “I’m here to rescue you. I did mention to be ready.” There was a grim determination in his voice, before a small smile twisted at the corners of his mouth, transforming his already altogether too handsome face into something even more compelling. “Though I think we can leave via the staircase, rather than with that.” He glanced down at the bedsheet rope, now dangling loosely from her hands. “Were you really going to use it?”

  “I didn’t have a lot of options,” she replied, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of knowing that she had in fact gotten the idea from one of the gothic novels she’d read years ago.

  Alec picked up the length of rope from her hands. “The knots do seem strong enough, so I daresay they would have held your weight.” His eyes met her own. “Rather resourceful of you.” He sounded impressed. “Come on, we need to go.”

  Connie didn’t know whether to be pleased or vexed as she followed him out the door, though she had questioned that very thing herself, so she probably shouldn’t be too annoyed, considering he was here to help. “How did you get past the guard?” She peered out into the darkened hallway. She saw Trevor slumped in a chair in the hallway. “You didn’t hurt poor Trevor, did you?”

  “Of course I didn’t hurt him. I’m a physician.” Alec sounded peeved as he held her hand and guided her past the sleeping guard. “I simply used some chloroform on him. He’s out like a light but will wake soon.”

  “Well, I’m glad. Trevor has always been very kind to me,” Connie replied, following him down the hallway. “But how did you get into the castle?” she whispered.

  “You wouldn’t credit it,” Alec whispered back. “But Fergus’s mistress sought me out before I left earlier today and told me she would ensure the back door was left unlocked.”

  “Lady Tarlington is helping me escape?” Connie had rarely had anything to do with the lady, at least not after the first time she’d spoken to her at an assembly, and Duncan had punished Connie later that night for daring to do so. Apparently, duchesses were not allowed to speak with the mistress of any man. A fact that Duncan’s fist had made certain to reinforce.

  Alec shrugged. “She told me that she couldn’t be a party to you being hauled off to an asylum, particularly not after she woke up in the middle of the night when Duncan was murdered and Fergus was missing from the bed.”

  “He was?” Connie gasped. “Will she tell the authorities that?”

  “I doubt it,” Alec admitted. “She’d lose her golden goose, so to speak, if Fergus was arrested for murder.”

  She felt her hopes plummet. “No. I suppose not. But what about you? You’re taking a great risk helping me.”

  He shrugged. “I’m a big believer in justice, and if you stay here, that is not what you’ll get.”

  “So you believe I didn’t murder Duncan?” She didn’t know why, but it was important to her that he thought her innocent.

 
Alec nodded as he led her down the back staircase. “I do. All clues point to Fergus trying to frame you, especially with what Lady Tarlington said, and the residual powder I found in your tea.”

  “You found powder in my tea?”

  “Yes. It could be from some of the liquid from the bottle Fergus was seen discarding, the residual of which dried in the teapot.” Alec shrugged.

  A part of her felt vindicated and the other part violated.

  However, the powder, and Fergus’s mistress Seraphina, Lady Tarlington, could be pivotal keys in proving her innocence. But without Lady Tarlington being willing to talk to the authorities, Connie would need to find other clues pointing to Fergus being the murderer. And now that Alec believed she wasn’t a killer, it would help. “I intend to prove my innocence.”

  He paused at the base of the stairs, and there was a look of interest warring with what appeared to be incredulity in his expression. “Well, first we need to get you out of here, before Fergus has you carted off to an asylum. Then we can get you to London and under your brother’s protection,” Alec said. “You’ll be safe with him.”

  He was right, her brother Richard would be able to keep her safe. He’d probably even have the resources to ensure she could leave the country if she wanted. But what then? A lifetime of looking over her shoulder?

  Though that was all dependent on if he was even in London. Because if he wasn’t, Connie had no doubt her mother would ship her straight back to Scotland for daring to murder the duke and create a scandal.

  “I’m not fleeing to London.” Connie stepped toward him until he was only a foot away. Her breath caught in her throat, and she had to focus on what she’d been about to say, his very presence, playing havoc with her equilibrium. “Everyone will brand me as a murderer, and I will never be free. I need to go to Inverness and see if I can find any evidence to exonerate me.” She paused. “I’ve spent too long believing I was helpless. I have no intention of continuing to do so. Which is why I must clear my name.”

  “It’s too dangerous,” Alec implored her, very slowly, and even more gently, picking up one of her hands and squeezing it softly.

  She was very glad when she didn’t flinch at all.

  “Fergus and his men will give chase when they find you’re gone,” Alec continued. “And if you’re still in Scotland, they will be able to detain you.”

  “That’s just it, though,” Connie said. “They will expect me to flee to England, not stay in Scotland and investigate Duncan’s murder.”

  He released her hand and dragged his fingers through his hair. “That might be true, but if you’re in England, your brother will be able to protect you, and they will not be able to force you back to Scotland.”

  “If I do that, I will never be free. Don’t you understand?” She desperately wanted to take his hand in her own again but resisted the impulse. “After being trapped for so long under Duncan’s tyranny, I need my freedom, more than anything else. Clearing my name is the only way I can get that.”

  Alec was silent for a moment. “Very well. If you are determined on this course, then I will assist you.”

  A tightness that she hadn’t even known was pressing on her chest suddenly eased. The thought that she wouldn’t be alone in such a seemingly impossible endeavor was welcoming. But then she realized the risk Alec would be placing himself in if he helped her. “No. I cannot let you do such a thing. I shall not be a party to you going to prison simply for helping me.”

  “Do you see the back door over there?” He motioned with his hand down the darkened hallway to the door leading out of the castle. “I’m already aiding and abetting you. And you can be damn certain, I won’t be leaving you to fend for yourself out there. So you might as well get used to the idea that I’m with you in this endeavor. We will clear your name. Together.”

  Chapter Nine

  An hour later, after escaping Castle Kilmaine without incident, Alec and Connie were astride their horses, navigating their way toward Inverness. The moon was full, which made seeing the path in front of them easier, but it also meant they would be as equally easy to spot if anyone were pursuing them.

  Traveling under the cover of darkness had taken them longer than Alec had anticipated, but the sun’s rays were not long off the horizon, and the dawning light of the morning would help them pick up some speed and get to their destination.

  After all, time was of the essence.

  He glanced over to Connie, who was perched on her own horse, a small but agile white mare that seemed to be keeping pace with Alec’s stallion remarkably well, as they rode side by side along the dirt road through the hills bordering the edge of Campbell land toward Inverness. Though she appeared near exhausted, with deep shadows marring the porcelain skin under her eyes.

  But they had to keep pushing on. A fact he knew both of them were intensely aware of. Hopefully, Fergus wouldn’t discover Connie’s escape for another hour or two, and he’d think she would be heading to London, instead of to Inverness, where they could blend in and become almost invisible in the third largest city in Scotland.

  “Do you think the apothecary will tell us what substance was in the vial?” Connie asked, her eyes flicking over to him. “And that they might even remember who bought it from the store?”

  “I hope so.” He felt the weight of the small bottle Mrs. Morgan had given him, nestled in his pocket, knowing it was basically the only thing they had to go on. “From what I gather, coins talk greatly in the apothecary, so I’m anticipating we may be able to entice someone into talking.”

  “Yes, hopefully,” she agreed, though there was a frown marring her brow. “I wonder if Fergus has been told I’ve escaped yet?”

  “I don’t know,” Alec answered her truthfully. “But as soon as we get to Inverness, we’ll be able to lose ourselves in the city, so it shouldn’t matter. Though while we’re out here we’re easy targets.”

  Connie nodded in agreement before her gaze darted to the rising dawn. “Yes, the sooner the better. However, I must say, even though I’m acutely conscious that we could be caught at any minute, I’m also surprisingly elated.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes,” she said, her gaze staying locked on the distance. “For the first time in years, I no longer have the burden of being worried about being struck and beaten by Duncan. It’s liberating.”

  To hear such painful words filled Alec with fury and helplessness. If that husband of hers wasn’t already dead, Alec suspected it would be he himself guilty of pummeling the lights out of him.

  She released a hearty sigh, and Alec felt his heart twist.

  “You’re the only person, apart from my mother, who I’ve actually told that to.” There was a hint of sadness in her voice. “Though I daresay many in Society suspected what he did to me, or at least the gentlemen did. Duncan was very good at charming the ladies, you see. Of course, everyone at the castle knew what was going on. How could they not? But they were powerless to do anything to help. Luckily however, in the past few years I’ve had Mrs. Morgan there to assist me. I don’t think I could have gotten through it without her. Or at least, not as well.”

  “The housekeeper?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Connie confirmed. “Mrs. Morgan was always the one to tend to my wounds and care for me after one of Duncan’s rages.”

  The concern for Connie in the woman’s eyes, when she’d given Alec the empty vial yesterday, had been readily apparent. “She certainly seemed worried for you and did want me to help clear your name by traveling to Inverness to visit the apothecary.”

  Connie smiled. “In the last two years, she’s been more of a mother to me than my own ever has.”

  “Unfortunately, that is not too difficult to imagine.” Alec sighed heartily. Connie’s mother, the Countess of Abelard, was about as far from maternal as a mother could be. A cold and exacting woman, who demanded perf
ection in not only herself, but everyone around her, and most especially in her only daughter. A woman who was happy to criticize and belittle others below her station, as Alec knew only too well from personal experience.

  “I did try for the longest time to live up to her wishes and standards. I suppose a part of me had always been desperate to gain her approval and her love.” She shrugged, and though she was trying to project a nonchalant expression on her face as she stared straight ahead, the hurt suffered couldn’t be quite disguised. “But I was never able to, and eventually I gave up trying.”

  “You married a duke, Connie. Surely that would have satisfied her bloody high standards.” And for the first time, Alec realized why, perhaps, Connie had been so determined to marry into such a high title.

  “It did initially,” Connie agreed, flicking the reins of her horse, to redirect the animal from wandering off the path. “Leading up to my wedding was one of the happiest times I’ve ever had with my mother. She was so thrilled I was betrothed to a duke that she actually wanted to spend time with me; something she’d always been too busy to do before. Well, apart from the times where she felt she had to correct my posture, my diction, my choice of attire, or even with whom I danced.”

  “Your mother does like to correct others.” The woman was a veritable dragon.

  Connie glanced briefly over at Alec. “She was furious when she saw your name written on my dance card that time at the Melville’s ball. Do you remember that? When we bickered on the balcony after I told you I’d changed my mind about dancing with you?”

  “I do.” It had been before Connie had been betrothed. The last ball Alec had seen her at, where he’d been extremely annoyed to discover his attraction to her. He hadn’t been intending to ask her to dance, but when he’d caught sight of her gliding down the staircase that night, dressed in her jade silk gown, a glint of mischief in her blue gaze, he couldn’t stop himself from approaching her and asking. “You teased me when I asked you to, but you said yes, only to change your mind later in the evening.”