by Monica Burns
"Your Mrs. Morehouse won't want anything to do with you now when she learns you're not really the earl." The sneer in the dowager's voice made Wallis step forward.
"Ewan will remain Earl of Argaty. Dougal saw to that when he convinced you to claim Ewan as your son, and I will see to it you do nothing to change that fact."
Wallis's voice was quiet, yet filled with a steely not he'd never heard in her voice before as she met her sister's gaze steadily. When the dowager started to interrupt, Wallis shook her head.
"Even if you try to sow seeds of doubt, Elspeth, too much time has passed. No one will believe you."
"'May you and your bastard rot in hell." The dowager countess spat out the words like a viper spitting venom. Sadness darkened Wallis's features, as she studied her sister's expression of hate.
"I pity you, Elspeth."
"Pity me? Whatever for?" Lady Argaty snapped.
"You've allowed hate to eat away at your soul," Wallis said quietly. "I've asked your forgiveness over and over again in both word and deed."
"I will never forgive you. You stole everything from me."
"I stole nothing from you because you had nothing to steal. You never loved Dougal. You loved his title. I'm the one who held Dougal's heart. That belonged to me from the moment we met," Wallis shook her head, her voice filled with dignity and quiet conviction.
"But you, you did something far worse. You punished a child for the sins of his parents, and you punished me after Dougal died by threatening to banish me from Argaty Keep knowing full-well I would endure anything simply to watch Ewan grow to manhood. But it's over now. It will be Ewan's choice whether I go or stay, not yours. You no longer hold any power over anyone, Elspeth. You surrendered that the moment you told Ewan the truth."
Rage twisted the dowager's face as she swung her hand toward her sister, but Ewan managed to emerge from his stunned state to grab the dowager's arm and stop her from hitting her target.
"Enough."
In a sharp, abrupt gesture, Ewan released his hold of the woman he'd called mother all his life. Suppressing the shock that had him reeling as to the truth of his birthright, Ewan pinned Lady Argaty beneath his gaze. "You, my lady, will remain in your chambers today, and see to it that my bro—your son, does not go anywhere without you or Brown at his side. Do you understand?"
"What are you going to do?" Despite the visible anger and hatred on her face, there was a thread of fear running through her question.
"I have already said what I intend to do, unless you would like me to notify the authorities as to the strong probability that Gilbert has killed two women."
"You wouldn't dare," Lady Argaty gasped.
On the floor, Gilbert made an ominous sound, and Ewan glanced down at the man whose face was made all the more hideous by anger as he scowled up at Ewan. With a shake of his head, Ewan looked back at Lady Argaty.
"Do not test my patience, my lady," he said coldly. "I will see to it that your son is well-cared for and in conditions befitting any human being, but he will not remain at Argaty Keep."
Ewan spun around and walked out of the dowager countess's sitting room. He was almost at the door to the dowager's suite, when a hand touched his arm. For a moment, he almost shrugged off the light touch, but something compelled him to halt. Slowly, he turned around to meet Wallis MacCullaich's sorrow-filled gaze.
"Yes, Aunt Wallis?" No sooner had he spoken than he flinched. A small, sad smile tilted the corners of her mouth slightly.
"I do not expect you to call me mother, Ewan," she said softly as she stepped forward and reached up to touch his cheek. When he flinched again, she quickly pulled her hand away. "I will not ask anything of you, but when you are ready, I will tell you everything and answer whatever questions you wish to ask me."
As he stared down into her face, childhood memories of his aunt's patience and loving manner raced through his head. It all made sense now, but he wasn't sure he could forgive her not telling him the truth. Why hadn't she told him the truth when he had come of age? It was only one of several questions he wanted answered, but he needed time to think. Ewan nodded his head, and without a word walked out of the dowager countess's suite.
Chapter 15
The bedroom door snapped closed behind Ewan with a quiet click. Asadi had been asleep on the threshold, but had stirred the moment Ewan reached his bedroom door. With a sharp command, he'd ordered the boy to go back to sleep. For a long moment, he remained frozen with his back against the door then crossed the room to stare out the window.
Dawn had surrendered to a new day as sunlight danced across the moors he loved. It was land he'd thought his without challenge until this morning. The thought made his hand clench around the drapes framing the window. He'd been wrong. Argaty Keep, its lands, and title all belonged to Gilbert. A man incapable of functioning in the real world, and in all likelihood a murderer.
The scenery outside the window slowly gave way to mental images of the dowager countess's malevolent features as she'd revealed the truth of his birth. Everything he'd believed as to who he was up until that moment had been ripped from him as viciously as the blade that had taken his arm. It wasn't just the lie that had him hanging in the wind like a criminal hanging from a gibbet. It was the betrayal. For years his mother and aunt had lied not just to everyone else as to who he really was, but they'd lied to him.
"Damn them to hell."
The words reverberated like a clap of thunder in the room. With a sudden, violent jerk he turned away from the window. For the first time in his life, everything made sense. All the questions he'd asked himself throughout his youth had been answered in a few short minutes. Ewan knew his antipathy for the dowager countess would make it easy to embrace the truth the woman wasn't his mother. Wallis MacCullaich was a different matter altogether.
Tension knotted his muscles as he remembered how often his aunt—no, his real mother—had comforted him as a child. Every time he'd suffered from Lady Argaty's cruel words and humiliation, Wallis MacCullaich had been there to comfort him. Every time he'd scraped a knee or been ill, she'd seen to his care. Even when he'd fallen from the stable rafters and broken his arm, his aunt had cared for him with a tenderness Lady Argaty had withheld from him.
There had even been times when he'd secretly wished Wallis had been his mother. Those moments of secret longings had been quickly followed by guilt for wishing such a thing. He'd grown up thinking he was responsible for being a disappointment to his mother, when in actuality he'd been nothing more than a constant reminder to Lady Argaty as to how her sister and husband had betrayed her.
In some ways it was almost a relief to know why the dowager hated him so much. It was an emotion he understood. The woman had introduced him to the emotion when he'd returned home for those two miserable days after Agnes's death. Lady Argaty's deliberate arrangement of his marriage to a woman she knew carried another man's child had obliterated the last vestige of affection he'd had for the woman. The dowager had nearly destroyed him that day and had sentenced Ross to a life as miserable as Ewan's own childhood.
Guilt sped through him at the thought. That wasn't true. He, and he alone, was responsible for Ross being deprived of affection or even kindness. The only blame Ewan could lay at the dowager's feet were her actions and words that had served as the catalyst for his treatment of Ross. The pound of flesh he'd been extracting from the boy he'd claimed as his own was all the more reprehensible because he knew what it was like to grow up without the love of a parent. Ewan's treatment of the boy made him no better than Lady Argaty.
Ewan flinched violently at the realization before a violent rage surged through his limbs. Fury pounded its way through his veins as he reached for a ladderback chair a few feet away from him. Fingers wrapped tightly around the first rung, he imagined the wood was Lady Argaty neck. If she were standing in front of him now, he wouldn't hesitate to squeeze the life out of the woman until her neck snapped. But she wasn't here.
"Fuck."
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Pain and humiliation filled his shout of anger, which was followed by the crash of wood splintering against a stone wall. The sound of the door opening made him stiffen.
"Do you need—"
"Get out, Asadi," he roared.
Seconds later he heard the door click shut behind the boy. In the back of his head he registered the fact that it was the first time Asadi hadn't tried to argue with him. He growled a quiet sound of regret at having taken his rage out on the boy. Asadi was no more to blame for the state of Ewan's affairs than Ross was. Both boys simply wanted to please him.
The thought made him bow his head in shame. He understood far too well the desperate desire to please someone. The need for his mother's approval had driven him to marry Agnes. It had gained him nothing except humiliation. Lady Argaty had nearly brought him to his knees when she'd explained how she'd arranged his marriage to a woman carrying another man's child. Until this morning, he'd never thought it possible the dowager could emotionally eviscerate him ever again as when she'd forced him to publicly claim Ross as his son.
Drawing in a deep breath, Ewan moved to the fireplace and used the poker to viciously stoke the red-glowing coals until they erupted into flames. When he'd finished, he sank down into a chair in front of the hearth. An image of Louisa's face danced in the flames as he remembered waking up beside her this morning.
The peace he'd experience holding her in his arms last night had been ripped from him by Lady Argaty's revelation. Everything had changed, and the future was uncertain. If the dowager were to announce he wasn't her son, he would have no choice but to confirm the fact. No matter what Aunt Wal—his real mother had said the dowager still held power over him.
Even if he were to convince himself to continue living a lie, the constant threat of Lady Argaty revealing the secret of his birth would be intolerable. It would give her power over him, and that he would never allow. His ignorance of the truth had placed him under her thumb for too long.
The thought of being labeled a bastard was unpleasant, but it wouldn't be any worse than the revulsion he encountered every time he went out in public. The loss of his title, no Gilbert's title, was one he could adjust to. The real pain and humiliation would be the assault on his honor. There would be many who would question whether he'd known the truth of his illegitimacy all along.
As a member of the Black Watch his conduct wouldn't simply be a stain on his character, it would be a reflection on his father, the tenants of the earldom, and the people he cared about in the keep. The damage to his honor would be irreparable.
Worst of all would be the doubt he was certain he'd see on Louisa's face. The idea of her even contemplating the possibility he had been lying about the circumstances of his birth would drive his soul into the darkness without any hope of survival.
The only option left to him was self-banishment from Argaty Keep. Lady Argaty would want to witness his disgrace, and he refused to give her that. A self-imposed exile would deprive the woman of that malevolent pleasure, and he knew the woman well enough by now to know she'd wait patiently until she found a way to make him return home.
Ewan slumped downward in his seat, his head resting on the back of the chair. Drained of energy, he stared at the fire. His entire body ached as if he'd just fought a major battle. Not even when he'd walked off a battlefield had he ever felt so battered and weary of life. As he stared into the fire, his exhaustion became a numbness that pulled him down into a troubled sleep.
§ § §
A blood-curdling cry made Ewan jerk upright in his chair. Every muscle in his body taut with tension, it took him several seconds to realize he'd been dreaming. He looked up at the clock on the mantle and saw it was after lunch. Leaning forward in his chair, Ewan rubbed the back of his neck. He needed to leave Argaty Keep as soon as possible, but first he would have to resolve the problem of his brother's confinement.
Gilbert was a threat he couldn't ignore. Finding a place for his step-brother to live under constant watch might take weeks. Even a temporary solution could take days. The dowager countess would be a problem as well. She'd made it clear she would fight him if he tried to send Gilbert away.
Then there was her refusal to keep Gilbert under constant supervision How was he supposed to keep everyone safe if he couldn’t control the activities of the rightful heir to the Argaty title? The dowager's lack of concern for anyone other than her son made him certain she'd do little to restrain Gilbert's access to the passages in the keep's walls. His step-brother was a threat to anyone who crossed his path, especially Louisa.
His brother's fascination with Louisa meant she would have to leave immediately. He'd send Ross with her as well. He couldn't risk her safety or that of the children. And of all the obstacles he had to surmount, Louisa would be the most difficult. She wouldn't need the an dara sealladh to know something was wrong the moment he asked her to take Ross with her. It would be necessary to make her think it was her idea to do so, although how he would achieve that goal was beyond him at the moment.
The thought sent his heart slamming into his chest as he envisioned the battle to come. Louisa would vehemently protest being sent away. If there was even one certainty in his life at the moment, it was that Louisa cared for him. Her forthright nature would not have allowed her to give herself to him last night if she didn't harbor feelings for him. Hiding the truth from her would be the most difficult thing he had ever done in his life.
Instinct said she would fight his decision with the ferocity of a wildcat and demand an explanation. She would be relentless in her pursuit of why he was sending her away. From the moment she'd convinced him to let her stay as Ross's governess, she'd displayed a skillful expertise for persuading him to cast aside his better judgement on almost a daily basis. This time she wouldn't succeed. It wasn’t simply Gilbert's interest in Louisa that made it imperative he send her away.
The ramifications of what had happened between them last night would have been difficult enough even if the ground hadn't disappeared from beneath his feet this morning. The dowager countess's stunning confession had sealed his fate where Louisa was concerned. He'd had little to offer her to before, but now he didn't even have a home to give her. Last night had changed everything for him, and it reinforced the fact she would take his heart with when she left. The thought sent a strong wave of hopelessness and pain crashing down over him. It was an emotion even more devastating than what the dowager's words had inflicted on him this morning.
The quiet sound of laughter interrupted his thoughts, and Ewan lift his head to look at the study’s closed door. When no one knocked, he frowned slightly in puzzlement. The laughter echoed through the study again. Suddenly realizing the sound was coming from behind the wall, Ewan sprang to his feet with a soft oath. He strode across the room to the door hidden in the paneling and heard Charlie Morehouse’s embodied voice float out from behind the wall.
“Quiet. We’re on an expedition. We don’t know what dangers might lie in front of us.” The boy’s quiet command made Ewan growl with anger.
Unfortunately, the lad didn't realize just how dangerous the hidden corridors were. With a jab of his finger, Ewan pressed the upper corner of the panel in front of him, and the door popped open. With a rough tug on the upper edge of the panel, he swung it was wide open.
Eyes wide with surprise, the three boys stood framed in the small doorway. Covered in dust, they looked like ragamuffins one might see on the streets of Edinburgh. Any other time, he might have chuckled at their appearance, but today wasn't one of those times. They looked as if they'd been exploring parts of the hidden passageways few people knew about. An image of Gilbert sent a chill through him as Ewan eyed the boys sternly.
“Gentlemen.”
Ewan jerked his head in a silent command for the three of them to enter the study. Apprehension clouded Wills’s expression, while Ross, who knew not to enter the dark passages, appeared resigned to whatever fate befell him. As the ringleader of the small party s
tepped into the light of the study, Charlie squared his shoulders and met Ewan's intense gaze with restrained defiance. The boy’s facial expression was one he’d seen on Louisa’s face numerous times.
“Ross, an explanation if you please.” Ewan turned his head toward the boy and bit down on the inside of his cheek as he saw the lad wince with more than a hint of apprehension. That the child feared him only deepened Ewan's shame and regret.
“It wasn’t Ross’s idea, my lord. I found the passageways.” Startled by Charlie’s admission, Ewan frowned as he turned his head until Louisa's oldest boy was in his line of sight.
“How?” he demanded. As the boy bit down on his lip, Ewan arched his eyebrow in a silent command for the boy to answer the question.
“My uncle showed me the entrance.” Head tilted defiantly upward, Charlie faced him without any hint of fear of reprisal.
"Your uncle?" Frowning, Ewan shook his head before his body grew rigid in surprise. “The an dara sealladh. You have the gift.”
Trepidation flitted across the boy’s face as his bravado disappeared. Whether someone had called him a liar in his past or he feared his mother’s disapproval, Charlie had suddenly realized he might have erred in divulging his ability to speak with the dead. Despite the faltering courage flitting across his face, Charlie faced him without any remorse.
"Yes, my lord."
"Did your uncle say why he showed you the secret door?" Ewan's question made the boy's eyes widen in surprise. The lad had obviously expected a different reaction on Ewan's part.
"He said I needed to know in case Mama needed my help."
"Needed your—" Ewan didn't finish his sentence as an icy finger slithered down his back.
Clearly the ghost of the boy's uncle feared for Louisa's safety just as much as Ewan did. If he'd not already made up his mind to send her away, the boy's words would have convinced him to do so. At least he could place Ross in her care without reservation. Her affection for the lad was evident. His gaze took in the faces of the boys, and he frowned.