by Monica Burns
He needed to be certain they'd not missed an entrance. If all the entrances in Gilbert's room had been sealed off only two other possibilities could explain his brother's presence in the hidden corridors. Either Brown had failed to confine his brother tonight, or Gilbert had found a key to open his door.
Brown had proven a reliable nurse for Gilbert, and he knew the man locked his brother in his room nightly to prevent exactly what had happened a few moments ago. While Brown wasn't infallible, Ewan found it highly unlikely the man had failed in performing the most critical of all his duties. If the man hadn't failed, that meant Gilbert had found another key to open his door. Aside from himself, Brown and his mother were the only ones who had a key to his brother's rooms.
Ewan's mouth tightened with anger. If his brother hadn't stolen his mother's key, Ewan wouldn't put it past the dowager countess to release Gilbert herself. She'd never been happy at his orders to lock Gilbert up at night, and she took pleasure in thwarting his orders whenever possible.
If she had been allowing his brother to roam the keep and it's hidden passages at night it would explain the dead, mutilated mice and rats found in recent weeks. He'd never actually caught Gilbert in the act of torturing an animal, but several months ago, his aunt had summoned him to see the horrific remains results of his brother's handiwork. The memory made his stomach knot as he recalled the terrible sight of two mutilated rats.
In the next instant, ice flowed through his body until his skin was as cold as if he'd spent a winter's night out on the moor. Christ Jesus, had Gilbert had found a door that opened onto the Keep's grounds as well?
The memory of his mother's pallor when Iain had mentioned the murders at dinner filled his head. At the time, he'd attributed her distraught look as her concern a killer was stalking the moors. His muscles tightened painfully with dread as a new explanation slithered through his mind. Like puzzle pieces falling into place, memories of things his mother had said or done merged with the memory of minor disturbances inside the walls of Argaty Keep over the past year to form a picture that made his blood run cold.
Up until this precise moment he'd thought his brother a harmless simpleton who mutilated small animals without any real understanding of what he was doing. But if he'd found a way out of the Keep, was it possible that he'd found a much larger prey to attack? If Gilbert was responsible for the deaths of two women, he needed to be locked up permanently. Even if his brother was innocent of murder, his mother had allowed Gilbert to roam the Keep without supervision. The dowager countess had ignored his orders, and a wave of fury fired his blood and warmed his cold skin.
A soft murmur floated through the air, and he turned his head to see Louisa had shifted position in bed with one arm wrapped around one of the bed pillows. God knows what might have happened if Gilbert had gained access to her room. If he'd not been here—he refused to consider what might have happened. The one thing he knew for certain was that his brother needed to be watched around the clock.
Determined to settle the matter with his mother once and for all, he moved quickly toward the door. Tension snaked its way through him as he cautiously ensured the hall was empty before he left Louisa's room. Fury fueled his pace as he strode angrily toward the dowager countess's suite of rooms. Today his mother would discover she'd pushed him one step too far.
When he reached the dowager countess's door, he pounded his fist against the wood. He didn't care if the woman was still in bed, he had no intention of letting Gilbert roam the Keep anymore. The door to his mother's suite squeaked open to reveal his aunt.
It surprised him to find Wallis fully dressed, but in all likelihood, his aunt was up and ready for another day of slavery to his mother. It never ceased to amaze him as to what would make his aunt serve her sister with such devotion. Wallis's face brightened with pleasure as she stared at him before she winced with misgiving.
"Ewan, why are you here. It's barely past dawn."
"Is she awake?" At his question, Wallis looked over her shoulder and dismay swept across her face. He didn't give his aunt a chance to reply as he gently moved her out of his way. "I'll take that as a yes."
"Ewan, please," his aunt whispered as she caught his arm in an effort to stop him. "She won't be happy you're here."
"I don't give a damn about her happiness," he growled with restrained fury. "It's time my mother came to terms with the fact that I rule Argaty Keep, not her."
Apprehension darkened his aunt's face as he gently tugged free of her fierce grip. Seeing the fear on her face, Ewan paused long enough to squeeze her hand in a gesture of reassurance before he crossed the floor to his mother's sitting room. With a vicious twist of the doorknob, he flung the door open, and it hit the wall with a resounding crash. Satisfaction made him smile with cold amusement when he saw his mother jerk her head toward him in surprise, and perhaps even a bit of uneasiness.
Seated in a chair near the fireplace, she quickly composed her features and bent over Gilbert who was sitting at her feet. She murmured something to his brother as she brushed her fingers across Gilbert's cheek in a gentle, motherly caress and kissed his brow. Ewan's jaw clenched at her tender gesture. As much as he'd come to despise his mother, the tenderness she showed Gilbert still sent a jolt of pain slicing through his mid-section. Not once in his entire life had his mother ever demonstrated any affection for him. All she'd ever displayed where he was concerned was her loathing.
"Why did you let him in, Wallis?" Lady Argaty tilted her head slightly to look around Ewan at the woman who had followed him into the room. "You know how much noise upsets Gilbert."
"I…he was…I…" Her sister's stammering caused a look of contempt to freeze on the dowager countess's face and with a dismissive wave of her hand she silenced Wallis.
"What do you want, Ewan?" his mother asked coldly as she focused her attention on his brother once more.
"How many times this week have you ignored my instructions and released Gilbert from his room when Brown was off duty?"
At his harsh question, Gilbert made a noise of angry frustration similar to the one he'd made when Ewan had ordered him away from Louisa's room. Ewan glanced down and saw Gilbert's fat, stubby fingers squeezing the neck of a doll he held in his lap. It was an ominous sign and renewed the chill he'd experienced earlier.
"I have no idea why you're questioning me." Lady Argaty's gaze glided over Ewan with a look of intense dislike before she bent over to soothe Gilbert again who had begun to grunt with agitation. "Why not ask that silent brute of a guard you hired. The man doesn't let Gilbert out of his sight."
"Because aside from Brown and myself, you have the only other key to Gilbert's room," Ewan snapped with a ferocity that made his mother stiffen in her seat although she continued to soothe his brother's restless mutterings. "Mr. Brown locks Gilbert in his room at night, and yet my brother escaped his confinement this evening."
"How do you know that?" The dowager countess jerked her head up to look at him with speculation and suspicion.
"I asked you a question, my lady.” Ewan ignored her response as he noted the lack of concern on his mother’s features with a growing sense of alarm. “How many times?"
“I don’t know,” the dowager countess said with a cavalier wave of her hand that horrified him. “Four or five.”
“And did one of those times occur the night of the MacLaren woman's death?”
"What are you implying?" Scorn filled Lady Argaty's voice as she tipped her chin upward at a defiant angle and glared back at him.
"I am not implying. I am accusing you of disobeying my expressed orders as to the restrictions of Gilbert's movement within the keep. You've allowed my brother to roam the Keep without supervision."
"And what if I do allow him to play when you and Brown forbid him to do so during the day."
"Brown takes him to the garden twice daily," Ewan said between clenched teeth.
"Only during meals when no one will see him." The harsh, indignant accusation made E
wan stiffen at his mother's inability to see the reason for keeping his brother out of sight.
"Your blindness is ironic given you have two eyes compared to my one. Gilbert and I frighten people. Responsibilities make my presence in the keep a necessity. One monster roam the keep is one too many." Ewan looked pointedly in his brother's direction.
Short in stature, his brother's head was abnormal in size. A large, melon-shaped growth jutted out from the side of Gilbert’s skull. The weight of it forced his brother’s head to fall downward at an unnatural angle until his ear touched his shoulder. Gilbert’s other ear laid flat against the side of his head. He had one eye that was crossed, while the other slanted downward until the eye occupied almost half of his brother’s cheek.
As Ewan studied his brother, Gilbert lifted his head. The look of cunning on his sibling's face made him draw in a sharp breath. He'd been right to think his brother might be dangerous. The expression on Gilbert's deformed features indicated he wasn't quite the simpleton Ewan had believed. Ewan dragged his attention away from his brother's crafty expression and narrowed his gaze on his mother who had remained silent.
"You did not answer my question, my lady," Ewan bit out as he stared at his mother with intense dislike. "Other than tonight, has Gilbert had the opportunity to go outdoors unattended?"
"Are you suggesting Gilbert is responsible for that village girl's death?” For a second time, she deftly sidestepped answering his question. Ewan’s jaw clenched tight as he restrained himself from shaking the answer out of her.
“Was he?”
“Of course not,” Lady Argaty snapped as she looked away from him, but not before Ewan saw the guilt on her face.
"You're lying."
“Even if I were, that you would suggest, let alone think Gilbert could kill someone is preposterous. He's a child.”
“A child who's demonstrated he's capable of killing animals.”
“Animals fascinate him.”
“Fascinate?” Ewan stared at his mother in disgust. “He tortures them before he kills them, my lady. We both know it's more than possible he's responsible for not just that poor girl's death, but the other girl too."
"You don't know that," Lady Argaty exclaimed with a note of alarm in her voice.
In spite of the rancor between them, Ewan saw the fear in his mother’s eyes as he met her gaze. He’d never thought his mother capable of love, yet it was the only explanation for her refusal to believe Gilbert might actually be capable of murder. Ewan had thought himself impervious to feeling anything for his mother except anger and dislike, but it was impossible not to feel pity for the woman as she clearly struggled with the idea that Gilbert had killed two people.
"I should never have allowed Gilbert to stay when I came home. He belongs in an asylum.”
“No.” The dowager countess sprang from her chair as fury twisted her face into an ugly mask. “This is his home. He belongs here with us—me. You have no proof he was involved in anyone’s death.”
At her strident response, a low noise of what might have been anger echoed out of Gilbert. The sound made Ewan shift his gaze back to his brother. Gilbert was studying him with a malevolence that filled him with dread. Until this very moment, somewhere deep inside him, he'd wanted to believe his brother hadn't killed the two women. The venomous glint in his brother's eyes made him realize it had been wrong to hope for such a possibility.
Ewan's heart slammed into his chest as he remembered his brother trying to force his way into Louisa's room. Christ Jesus if something had happened to her—he stopped in mid-thought unable to contemplate the worst.
“Arrangements will be made immediately for him to be sent someplace where he cannot harm anyone else."
“I will not let you send him away,” Lady Argaty said viciously as she sprang to her feet.
"Gilbert wants pretty lady." The guttural words rolling out of his brother was a vicious punch in Ewan's gut as he and his mother jerked their attention to the man seated on the floor.
"What pretty lady, my darling?" Lady Argaty said gently as she stroked her second son's brow.
"His pretty. He wouldn't let me see her."
"See her?" There was a note of puzzlement in Lady Argaty's voice before she stiffened then slowly straightened upright to pin her gaze on Ewan.
"How did you know Gilbert wasn't in his rooms, my lord." Scorn twisted his mother's lips as she met Ewan's gaze. "You were with her, weren't you? That's how you knew."
"How I came to know of Gilbert's whereabouts is not your concern."
"You settled yourself between her legs quickly, Ewan. I'm surprised she even allowed you near her. What will the household think when they discover what's happening between you and that woman?"
"If you do anything to soil Louisa's reputation or do her harm, you'll answer to me, mother."
"I am not your mother." Abhorrence made her lips twist at his manner of address. "Gilbert is the only son I have. You are a bastard."
"I know full well how much you despise me, mother." It was impossible for Ewan to keep the bitterness out of his voice as he met the dowager countess's gaze glittering with hate.
"Do not ever, call me that again. You are not my son." The virulent scorn and contempt on his mother's face made him bite down on the inside of his cheek.
"Elspeth, please." The raw emotion in his aunt's voice made Ewan glance over his shoulder at her to see a look of horror and fear on Wallis's face. Her expression puzzled him, but he pushed aside questioning his aunt and turned back to his mother.
"Disavow me all you like, mother," he bit out between clenched teeth, deliberately refusing to acknowledge her insane assertion. "Perhaps you're the one who needs to be sent away, not Gilbert."
With the speed of a snake striking its victim, his mother lunged forward and slapped him. The strength of the savage blow made his head snap to one side. His cheek stinging, he eyed his mother with cold resentment. Eager to distance himself from her hate and venom, Ewan turned away only to have his mother tug viciously on his artificial limb to prevent his departure. The device pinched painfully at his skin causing him to draw in a hiss of air between his teeth.
"No. I will no longer continue this farce," the dowager countess spat out as she looked at her sister. "Tell him, Wallis. Tell him how you parted your legs for another master of Argaty Keep years ago, just like Mrs. Morehouse."
Guilt and regret crossed his aunt's face as Ewan looked at her in confusion before shifting his gaze back to his mother. The dowager countess's expression was contorted with a rage that made him believe her capable of killing, just like his brother.
"Do not bring Aunt Wallis into—"
"You are not my son." His mother shouted with a rage that made him jerk in surprise. "He forced me to lie to everyone. He wanted a son so badly he was willing to put a bastard in place as his heir."
"What in god's name are you talking about, my lady," Ewan snapped as an uneasy sensation formed in his stomach.
"Tell him, Wallis." The dowager countess took a step toward her sister with a look of fury that made Ewan shift his body to keep his mother from reaching his aunt. "Tell him how, just like his pretty Mrs. Morehouse, you parted your legs for another master of Argaty Keep."
"Don't do this, Elspeth. Please."
There was a deep note of pain in his aunt's voice as Ewan jerked his gaze toward his aunt. Tears shimmered in Wallis's eyes as her expression silently pleaded with her sister. Ewan shifted his gaze back and forth between the women as he struggled to make sense of his mother's words. What master of Argaty Keep was she referring to?
His father had been an only child, and as the eldest, Ewan had become the earl upon his father's death. Confusion engulfed him as he studied his aunt's face. Pale and visibly shaken, he saw shame and guilt in her eyes before she bowed her head.
"Since you refuse to tell him, I will." The dowager's voice held a note of vindictive malice as she looked at Ewan. "My sister is a whore. She entered my husband's b
ed after I became the Countess of Argaty, and she bore my husband a son."
The revelation left him dazed and battered as if he'd been knocked off his feet by a large wave during a bad storm at sea. In the dark recesses of his mind, he experienced the beginnings of an understanding that rocked the ground beneath him. Fighting to comprehend his mother's words, he remained silent in the face of her venomous glee. Not since childhood had he ever been so bewildered by her hatred for him. Ewan shook his head slowly as the dowager countess eyed him with a revulsion she might a soiled piece of cloth.
"You are not the Earl of Argaty. Gilbert is." The poisonous spite in his mother's voice made him jerk backward a step. The dowager countess looked at her sister. "I think he's taking it quite well, Wallis, wouldn't you agree?"
An incoherent note of pain and anger escaped the woman he'd called aunt all his life, and Ewan turned sharply to face her. The expression on Wallis's face told him the answer to his question before he even asked it, but he asked it nonetheless.
"Is it true?" he rasped harshly. Wallis flinched but met his gaze steadily as she nodded.
"Yes," she said softly. "But it is far more complicated than your—my sister makes it sound."
"Complicated?" he ground out with anger and pain. "There is nothing complicated about any of this. Either I am your son or I am not."
"You are my son."
The quiet words pounded against his ears as if he were on the battlefield once more with the cannons booming. For more than thirty years, he'd been living a lie without even knowing it. An invisible vise encircled him and squeezed his chest until it became difficult to breath. It was as if he'd been thrown into a raging river that threatened to drag him beneath the surface.
The past rose up to greet him as he remembered moments as a young boy when he'd tried so hard to please his mother, only to have her scorn him. Close on the heels of those memories was that of Aunt Wallis offering him the comfort and love he wanted so badly from his mother. As if from a great distance he heard his mother laugh. The moment he thought of the dowager as his mother, he was forced to correct himself. Wallis was his mother, not the countess.