Questions for a Highlander

by Angeline Fortin

  Tears were pouring down her cheeks as Eve vented out all the feelings she had repressed these last years. She was trembling and weak in the knees when Richard came over and took her gently in his arms, rocking her against his broad chest as if she were one of his infant girls.

  Over her head, he looked at his wife and saw the tears of sympathy in Abby’s eyes for the pain of her friend. The look they shared admitted they would feel that exact same fear if the other were in jeopardy. What was true love if not the realization that you would forsake yourself for your mate? He would give up anything, including his life, for Abby. And if anyone were to threaten her?

  The very thought of his angel in danger was enough for Richard’s heart to clench in despair, but it was quickly followed by anger. This bastard was not going to win this game!

  “Eve, look at me,” he said softly and waited until she tilted her head back to look at him. Her eyes and nose were reddened, her cheeks flushed and blotchy. Her nose ran a bit. She was not a pretty crier, he thought with a touch of amusement, though no doubt Francis would think she looked simply lovely. “We are going to fix this, all of us together. Do you understand? You do not have to be strong alone, because friends are here with you. We are all here for you. However, I firmly believe you are stronger than you think. You may have felt fear, but you have not faltered. You never ran or took the easy way out. Fear doesn’t make you weak, it makes you human. Only a fool would say he felt no fear in those same situations. In fact, I would say I have rarely met anyone as brave and strong as you.”

  Eve sniffed and dashed a hand across her eyes with a wavering nod. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

  “I’m sure Abby has told you I never say anything just to make someone feel good.” Richard pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. She wiped her eyes and surreptitiously wiped her nose as well before balling the cloth into her hand. “Better?”

  “A bit,” she admitted. It had felt good to shout out all her worries even if the others might think her insane and weak for doing so. Years of bottled up emotions leaked their way out of her body, leaving her trembling and a bit giddy. Even her mind seemed to have a new clarity. She smiled up at Richard. “Abby is very lucky to have you.”

  Richard’s eyes dashed up to smile at his wife before returning to her. “Aye, she is, as Francis is very lucky to have you. Now, are you ready to face this thing?”

  “Possibly.”

  Richard arched an eyebrow.

  “Probably?” Eve amended and joined his laughter with a watery chuckle.

  She turned to find the two ladies standing behind her, wringing their hands in worry for her and spread her arms wide. As the trio hugged one another, Eve whispered into the huddle, “You are the dearest of friends. I apologize for yelling at you.”

  “Everyone has their faults,” Moira shrugged dismissingly. “So you’re a raving lunatic, I think we can live with that.”

  “Moira!” Abby chastened. “She’s not a raving lunatic… she’s merely gone a wee bit batty,” she teased, and they all laughed together, but her expression grew more serious. “You must be a she-wolf, Eve, protecting her young and her mate. Do you realize that? You cannot let this evil man take your life away.”

  “I know,” Eve swallowed deeply.

  “At least you have your pack to back you up,” Moira chimed in with a cheerful smile, as they all hugged again.

  “Well, this is most curious,” Jack drawled from the doorway. “I feel I must have missed something important.”

  Chapter 45

  The spring air that afternoon was crisp. The gentle breeze tousled her hair and soothed her with its cool caress. The small garden behind Richard’s townhome was a peaceful oasis to her worry and misery. It looked out over the Water of Leith, a stream that could be reached by a footpath behind the housing row. The sound of its rushing water sang softly to Eve, the delicate lacework of shadows cast by the trees cooled and calmed. Laurie played , practicing his golf swing on the small open lawn between the steep descent to the water and the rear of the house. Trist played along as well, swinging his own small club, and balls littered the area since few of their swings produced a drive of more than a few yards.

  Calling an occasional bit of advice or encouragement, Eve watched her son with quiet pride. Perhaps when this was all over and she managed to wed Francis, they might have several more children, perhaps a dozen, like his own family. She smiled at the thought. Francis would make an excellent father, she believed. He would not be one to consign his children to the nursery and have them brought down for an occasional inspection. Eve could easily picture him lying on the floor playing at toy soldiers with his son or even maybe taking tea with a daughter.

  She wanted that with him. Marriage with him might be something beyond her experience but was certainly worth exploring. Their love would be constant and sharing, their lives filled with laughter and affection. With a sigh, Eve felt as if peace were flowing over her as she imagined their future together. Regardless of recent events and her emotional outburst, she had to believe that all would be well. Even now, Richard and Jack were mapping out the details of their plan. The footman sent to follow William had lost him on the busy streets of Old Town so they only knew that he was somewhere near the east end of Edinburgh, an area comprised mostly of public and government buildings.

  Currently the plan was to hide some of the bobbies in the house, and when William came again she would attempt to get a verbal confession from him within their hearing. As a back-up plan, the men were assigning areas for their posse of sorts, comprised of footmen and stable boys, to ferret out William’s hiding place in Old Town and coerce a confession from him that would free Francis from his incarceration.

  It would take a confession. They were all sure of that, since all the evidence, as circumstantial as it was, pointed directly at Francis while there was nothing they knew of to implicate William. So, merely bringing William in might not be enough to exonerate Francis. But Eve felt confident that they would prevail. Where an hour before fear and doubts had clouded her mind, the release of that anxiety had allowed her to see that truth was on their side and in the end would win out. It was the defense of the naïveté perhaps, but she was sure that once William was located they might be able to compel a confession within the hearing of some authority.

  The trees rustled behind her and Eve froze as she became aware of an ominous presence behind. Her initial instinct was to panic as unwilling fear flared to life within her once more, but Eve took a deep breath and pushed it aside ruthlessly. Though she could not stop her body from stiffening reflexively, she was pleased that her voice emerged cool and calm. “Not even bothering to come to the front door any longer, William?”

  “How did you know it was me?” he asked as he strolled casually into her line of sight and leaned against the trunk of a large oak.

  “You reek of incivility,” she sniffed haughtily. “How did you get back here?”

  Shaftesbury shrugged and said only, “It was quite simple really.”

  “I believe I told you I did not want to see you, William,” she said, keeping her eyes on her son and avoiding his steady gaze. “Why did you come earlier?”

  “I confess I was curious as to what might be happening inside.” William removed his gloves and slapped them idly against his thigh. “When I arrived there were several police officers out front and I wondered to myself what might possibly be amiss.”

  “I’m sure you were very concerned,” she replied with a touch of sarcasm. “While I appreciate it so deeply, your worry is completely unnecessary. The police have only escorted Lord Glenrothes to the coroner to identify the body of his ex-wife. It seems that she was tragically murdered last night.”

  Shaftesbury tsked with a shake of his head. “I had heard. Tragic, indeed. It is the talk of the town,” he went on with a neutral tone. “The locals are calling for blood and demanding justice be done.”

  “Justice will
be done,” she said with conviction.

  William shook his head and tsked again in a chiding manner. “Are your affections so fickle that you care not that your lover has been arrested for her murder? Yes, I know he has. Of course, one should distance oneself from such a scandal so you are probably quite correct in your behavior. One never wants to be linked to a man about to be hanged at the gallows.” He turned his head and watched the boys playing through the trees, though they could not see him.

  “I told you they did not arrest him, William,” Eve lied blithely. “He is a peer of the realm, did you forget? They do nothing here to their nobility. They are untouchable. Even if they thought he did it… were certain he did it, they would do nothing to him.”

  “He is a highland heathen among more heathens!” he declared in disbelief. “These people live for violence. I’m surprised a mob hasn’t demanded his head already.”

  “You do not know anything, do you?” she questioned mildly and was strangely pleased to see his jaw clench at her insult. “He is Glenrothes, William. His title is ancient and his wealth immense. He donates freely to the arts and orphans. He is a god among these people. They will not touch him.”

  When he remained stonily silent, she went on, “In truth, they have another suspect in mind and the earl is assisting them in developing a description and search for the true culprit.” Bluffing was not a strong suit of Eve’s at all. She had never been a good card player but years of denying William the satisfaction of seeing her misery during his punishments had given her some talent. She would not allow him that satisfaction now and she knew that was what he wanted. He wanted her upset. He wanted to see her mourn for her lover. This was his punishment. This is what his twisted mind had come up with. A deed that not only reprimanded her, but castigated Francis as well. A blow to take them both down. William had always been evilly clever.

  Her resolve only strengthened at that realization. William would not get that pleasure from her again.

  “You lie,” he hissed.

  “I do not.” Eve finally looked up and leveled him a cool glare. She was so enjoying turning the tables on him! And look at him! His expression was confused and disgruntled. It was not at all what he expected to hear. In truth, he had probably come here expecting to find her in tears, wailing and bemoaning Francis’ fate! Her voice took on a gleeful satisfaction as she lowered her tone to ape a gypsy fortune teller. A portent of doom. “They know it was you, William. They know you did this horrible thing and framed Francis. They are coming for you! You will not get away with it!”

  Incredulity froze his features as he scanned her, searching for the truth. After a moment, his expression evened and he lowered himself until his face was inches from hers. “Oh, but I will, my dear, and do you know why? Because if they come for me, I will send your precious Laurie to the bottom of the loch in a burlap sack!”

  Bravado fled. “You wouldn’t!” Eve gasped in shock. “He is your own son!”

  “Which one is he?” he asked, absently looking at the boys nearby. “I confess I cannot quite decide. Perhaps I will just kill them both.”

  With a blink of horror, Eve could only gape at him.

  Shaftesbury leaned back against the tree and studied his fingernails dispassionately. “You would be surprised how a year in a Chinese jail can change a man, my dear. It can truly set a man’s priorities apart. There will be no humiliation in my life again from any source and that means from you. Your behavior with the earl is beyond shocking. The expediency in which you had me declared dead, appalling. But I need you to gain my fortune. Then perhaps I will do away with you as well,” he shrugged. “And, as I mentioned before, I can always make another son.”

  The blood drained from her face over the course of his monologue. “You’ve gone mad!” she whispered in horror.

  “Merely determined, my dear. There is nothing I will not do to get what I want,” he added. “Please keep that in mind as we move forward. Your brief love affair caused this, Evelyn. It is all your fault.”

  “Glenrothes has been my love since before we married, William,” she hissed as her disgust was pushed aside by anger. Mother wolf indeed. “He has held my heart for longer than I have known you. I have been his lover for years!”

  “Lie!” he spat and brought back his hand forcefully catching her across the cheek and throwing her to the ground.

  From the ground, Eve glared up at him, holding her cheek. The pain of his blow ringing through her head. Rationality fled and she could not stop the further insult that fell from her lips. “Laurie’s not even your son.”

  “Mummy?” Laurie called in a shaking voice as he saw his mother fall to the ground. “Mummy, are you all right?”

  “Run away and get help, Laurie,” she urged, desperately as she scrambled to her feet.

  “Mummy?” the boy hesitated, wanting to protect his mother but scared as well. Nonetheless, he gripped his golf club tightly and squared his little shoulders. “Move away from my mother, sir,” he ordered William with all the authority ingrained in him.

  Shaftesbury stared at the boy with an odd mixture of pride and loathing. He searched the boy’s features but saw only Evelyn stamped there. There was nothing of him, but still, she must be lying. Lawrence was his son, he was certain. If for no other reason than he had never allowed his wife any freedoms that might allow her a lover. “Put down the club, son. Don’t you know who I am?”

  “No, sir, we have never met.” Eve couldn’t entirely stop the rush of pride she felt at hearing her son’s disdainful tone. “I will have to ask you one more time to leave.”

  William chuckled. “You would fight me? Did you not know that I am your father?”

  “My father is dead, sir,” he piped certainly, as Tristram wandered over, curious as to what was happening.

  “I’ll tell you what.” William reached out and grabbed Eve, pulling her over to him. “You come for a little ride with your mummy and I promise not to hurt her. What say you?”

  The boy wavered, his gaze frantic on his mother’s as he tried to determine what to do. Eve fought against William, trying to get away and cried desperately, “Run, Laurie! Run, Trist!” William backhanded her once more as he started toward the boys.

  “Get Uncle Richard!” she cried as she spat out blood. “Trist, get your papa!”

  The boys took off at a run as William turned and glared down at her. “Unwise, my dear. Come along then. We must leave now.” He pulled a pistol out of his pocket and aimed it at the backs of the fleeing children with a considering expression. His aim moved from one boy to the other as they retreated.

  “NO!” Eve screamed and threw all her weight against him. His shot went awry and the boys cried out in terror as they fled to the house. To her dismay, she saw that his gun was a Colt .45 six-shooter. A favorite of the Americans, she was surprised he would condescend to carry one. Still, he had five more chances in the gun to prove his point.

  “Come with me now or I will shoot the others as they come out of the door,” he threatened.

  Eve could do nothing but nod shakily. “I will come, just put that away.”

  Chapter 46

  Hatred is blind, anger is foolhardy,

  and he who pours out vengeance

  risks having to drink a bitter draft.

  - Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte-Cristo

  Pushing aside her fears, Eve braced herself against the sides of the carriage as William urged his driver to a faster pace. After a few streets, they slowed to a more reasonable pace and Eve was able to settle herself more firmly on the seat. William had dragged her along the footpath behind the townhomes to the end of the row, where his coach had been waiting on Gloucester Street. Though they had passed behind at least ten other homes, Eve had not seen another person. Such a quiet neighborhood was why the homes overlooking the Water of Leith were so fashionable. Without finding aid along the way, Eve had no chance to call for help or run away, but instead had been pushed into the carriage and whisked fro
m the locality.

  “Well, my dear, you made the correct choice and saved the lives of your friends.” He adjusted his waistcoat and settled the pistol in his lap. “I realized quickly you were merely taunting me with your allegation of Lawrence’s paternity. The time to have had such an affair was never made available to you, I see that now.”

  “Shut it, William,” she hissed. “You are a vile bastard. Your very presence offends me in ways unimaginable.”

  William caught Eve’s upper arm tightly, causing her to wince slightly and shy away. “It seems that your wild side tends to shine through when you are away from me, my dear. It will be my pleasure to reeducate you to a more becoming manner.”

  He patted her cheek, but Eve jerked away and glared at him. “There is nothing you can teach me, William. If I were you I would concentrate on my escape because right now a mob of angry Scotsmen are tracking us down and, believe me, they will kill you when they find you. Am I worth that much to you?”

  “Unfortunately, my dear, you are,” he curled his lip. “I need your company and I require you to be alive for a while longer. If I did not, I would kill you here and now for all the humiliations you have rained upon the earldom these past weeks.”

  “And you are a shining example of nobility?” she snorted in a most unladylike fashion. “What could you possibly need me for?” she asked idly as she scanned the passing scenery, trying to determine an escape from him. Now that Laurie and Tristram’s safety was ensured, she turned her thoughts to saving herself from whatever evil he had planned for her. Where were they? It seemed that rather than heading out of town, they were moving toward the center, down toward the Mile that extended between Edinburgh Castle and Holyrood. She wondered why he would head into a populated area, but decided she did not care.