Broden closed his eyes for a long blink, as if greatly pained.
Or annoyed. Or frustrated. Worried. Confused…
“At least if she traveled with us, I could keep her safe,” Liam said, peering out the beveled panes.
Kendra brushed a lock of hair off her forehead as she met Broden’s irate stare. “I would’ve done it, too, because I would’ve gone mad waitin’ for word.” Despite her brother’s presence, she took his hand. “Ye would’ve done the same thing if I were in danger, Broden, and dinna deny it. We are alike in that.”
Sighing and his chest deflating with the exhalation, he gathered her into his powerful arms. “Aye, I would have done.”
She went willingly, relishing the protective band of his arms encircling her.
Liam cleared his throat, a hint of mirth creasing the corners of his eyes. “I presume after Lady Montforth’s ragin’ and this touchin’ show of affection,” he gestured between Kendra and Broden, “this means ye intend to ask for Kendra’s hand in marriage?”
Surely Broden wouldn’t embrace her in Liam’s presence if that weren’t his intent. She tilted her head up, admiring his strong jaw, and sought his umber-brown gaze.
Hunger and passion and love shone there.
Love for her.
When she thought how close she’d come to missing out on loving this man and being loved by him, she could weep.
“Aye.” He brushed her cheek tenderly with his knuckle. “I’d make her my countess this verra minute if she was willin’.”
“She’s willin,” Kendra said, rather breathlessly.
Too blasted bad her brother stood but a few feet away, or she’d show Broden precisely how willing she was.
Liam chuckled as he left his inspection of the outdoors and wandered to the center of the room. “I always wondered if the constant sparks between the two of ye were anythin’ more than animosity. I’m glad ’twas since it pained me to have two of the people I most cared about constantly sparrin’. I’m well-pleased to be able to soon call ye brother.”
He clasped Broden’s hand in a hearty handshake.
“What’s this about Narcissa possibly being behind my shootin’?” Broden features went granite-hard as he absently touched his shoulder. “Now that I think on it, she did mention I’d been shot. I didna tell her that.”
She knew because she’d hired the killer.
At least all signs pointed in that direction.
Kendra heaved an unsteady sigh. “Camden trailed Edwin McGregor to Scotland. McGregor was tryin’ to find ye. Someone also made an attempt on his life. He, however, saw and recognized his assailant.”
Broden went perfectly still, a warrior’s practiced scowl darkening his features. “Och? Who?”
“Oswald,” Liam and Kendra said simultaneously.
Kendra continued. “Naturally, as I’d never met Oswald, I didna realize he was the man who’d shot ye. However, after a discussion with Mr. McGregor, it became very clear to me that Oswald was your shooter, too. The description of the man matched Oswald’s perfectly.”
Broden swiped a hand through his soft hair, lines of tension creasing the granite planes of his face. She so wanted to kiss away his concern and agitation. Make him forget, just for a time, that someone wanted him dead.
“Oswald? But why? It disna make sense.” Three deep grooves puckering his forehead, he paced to the window and then back. “How do ye ken Edwin McGregor is tellin’ the truth?”
“The man was scared spitless. He remained in hidin’ for a month afterward, and then it occurred to him that if Oswald had tried to kill him, mightn’t he also try to eliminate ye?” Liam exchanged a guarded glance with Kendra. “He darkened his hair and traveled under an assumed name, pretendin’ to be a reverend. He’s no’ exactly the courageous sort. He claims he sought ye out hopin’ ye could catch Oswald.”
“Where is he now?” Concern shadowed Broden’s face, even as a calculating gleam shone in his eyes.
“He’s bein’ held at Kennedy’s keep. Until we could verify his tale, it seemed wisest no’ to let him blunder about.” An ironic smile quirked Kendra’s mouth. “I still had my doubts about him until he eagerly agreed to the confinement. He’s good and truly terrified.”
Broden paced back across the study’s plush, Turkish carpet, his hands clasped behind his back. “It disna make sense. How does Oswald benefit from mine or Edwin’s deaths?”
Liam, now resting a shoulder against the fireplace mantel, raised his gaze from studying the flames.
Kendra touched her chin, thoughtfully. “Mayhap the question isna how does Oswald benefit or who benefits the most if the heirs are dead, but who has the most to lose if they’re alive?”
Broden halted and brought his attention overhead to the ornate plasterwork ceiling. “Narcissa?”
“Aye.” Kendra firmed her mouth. “We think Oswald is nearby, and we think he’s workin’ in conjunction with the countess.” She cut Liam a swift look, days of worry catching up to her and sending dread throttling through her every pore. “In truth, Camden is the one who speculates that’s the situation. ’Tis a bit disconcertin’ just how calculatin’ his mind is.”
Broden tugged his earlobe. “I think a candid discussion with the countess is in order, straightaway. With witnesses. That woman can tie knots in a man with her fishwife’s tongue.”
Kendra would rather not endure the horrid woman’s presence for a minute more, but Broden was correct.
A knock sounded at the door.
“Enter,” Broden bade.
Morris entered, pushing a tea cart. His stoic gaze circled the room, a question in his eyes. “Your refreshments as requested, my lord.”
He silently asked where the others were.
Kendra’s stomach growled, and she placed her hand over her hollow tummy. None of them had eaten since yesterday afternoon, except for oatcakes while they rode. Bone weary, she wanted nothing more than to take a hot bath and climb between clean sheets.
Preferably, with Broden.
She indulged in a wicked half-smile.
He’d awoken desire in her, and she was eager to have her passion stoked into a wildfire.
However, such comforts and fantasies would have to wait.
Uncovering the countess’s involvement was paramount to Broden’s safety. Perhaps she knew where Oswald was at this moment, too. He might’ve even followed them to Sommerley Parke House, and he was undoubtedly desperate to cover his tracks after two failed murder attempts.
Served the countess right for hiring a novice for such a gruesome task.
“I’ve asked my friends to act as sentries, Morris.” Broden gestured to Kendra to help herself to the tea cart’s contents.
Ah, so he had heard her stomach’s relentless complaining.
“We’ve reason to believe an assassin is nearby,” he said.
The butler’s jaw slackened, and his eyes rounded for only a second before he composed his features. “May I ask if the children are any danger?”
Broden had liked the stuffy chap from the onset, but that his first concern was for the lasses raised him higher in his estimation.
“We dinna believe so, but it wouldna hurt to assign yer most trusted footmen to guard the nursery. Men who are loyal to me.” An unspoken message passed between him and the majordomo.
“Just so, my lord.” A flicker of understanding sparked in Morris’s eyes, and he dipped his head. “You are aware of the secret passageways in the house?”
“Aye, though I’ve no’ toured them myself, as yet.”
Secret passageways?
Not unusual in larger mansions or castles. Throughout history, people had used those sorts of passages for everything from clandestine assignations to smuggling or spying.
Kendra inspected the study more thoroughly. Were there any in here?
“One leads directly from her ladyship’s bedchamber to a hidden panel in the library,” Morris offered.
Broden jerked his full attention to th
e prim servant. “The library? Next door?”
“Indeed, my lord.” Did Morris’s lips twitch the merest bit?
Was that a glow of triumph in his placid gaze?
He’d seen to it her ladyship met with her comeuppance.
Another reason to treat servants with respect and dignity. They knew absolutely everything that went on in a household, and far better for them to be one’s allies than foes. Something the countess would’ve done well to practice.
Broden tore to the study door, calling beneath his breath, “Follow me. Morris, have my men at the ready outside the library’s exits.”
“Yes, my lord.” The staid fellow practically flew down the passageway. This was probably the most exciting misadventure he’d ever participated in.
Definitely no love lost between him and the countess. The truth was, from what Kendra had witnessed of the woman, she’d behaved like an abusive virago.
“There are three doorways into the library, plus the hidden passage,” Broden said as they rushed along. “One leads to this corridor. Another provides an escape onto a terrace paralleling the lawns and gardens. And another very small door is situated on the far side of the upper gallery. I presumed it led to an attic or storage area of some sort.”
What if they were too late?
Had the countess flown already?
Once outside the library, Broden lifted a large finger to his lips. “If she’s already inside or in the passage, we dinna want to alert her.”
Kendra’s heart beat wildly in her breast.
Perhaps the countess would attempt to send a message to Oswald. Surely if she were working in conjunction with him, she knew his whereabouts. The despicable weasel.
Broden cautiously depressed the handle, and the well-maintained door slid open without a sound. He turned sideways and leaned to peer into the room. Lifting his hand, he motioned them forward.
“’Tis empty,” he whispered.
Not more than fifteen minutes had passed since Lady Montforth had stormed from the study. Nonetheless, Kendra worried her lower lip, afraid they’d missed her. Well, even if she had sneaked out to send a message, she’d have to come back.
No mother would leave her children behind.
They filed through the doorway, and she couldn’t help but be enthralled at the gorgeous room.
Beautifully carved shelves held thousands of books. Three burgundy brocade divans arranged in a U-shape sat before a black and white marble fireplace. Several comfortable armchairs were placed about the room in groups of two or four with sturdy tables nearby.
Most impressive, though, was an intricate spiral staircase ascending to an upper gallery that she immediately wanted to explore.
All of this, the house and furnishings and grand library, were Broden’s. All of this majesty and wealth. Yet the man she knew didn’t care about affluent displays.
A fire burned in the hearth, but no candles lit the room. Shadows obscured the farthest corners of the chamber, and only a thin ribbon of grayish light shone through the open draperies. Without a doubt, more snow portended.
Advancing farther into the chamber, she silently lamented she hadn’t thought to snatch a scone off the tea cart to take the edge off her hunger.
“Where’s the secret passage?” Liam asked softly.
Broden indicated a panel to the right of the fireplace. “There,” he said in a hushed voice. “I kent about the passageway but wasna aware it connected to Narcissa’s chamber.”
He strode to the windows and peered out. Giving a satisfied nod, he faced them again, whispering, “Coburn and Graeme are outside.”
He motioned to Kendra.
“Come, wait with me here.” He took up a position near a window to the side of the velvet panels. “We can use the draperies as cover. Liam, ye hide over there.”
He indicated the shelf to the fireplace’s left.
Liam silently crossed to the other side, his tobacco-brown coat blending into the bookcase’s dark walnut wood and the afternoon shadows. A slanted platform for perusing maps and other large documents was positioned atop a table at a diagonal angle, further obscuring his presence.
Broden took Kendra’s hand, giving it a slight squeeze as he whispered in her ear. “Dinna do anythin’ foolish. Let yer brother and me handle this. Narcissa may become violent. I only want ye here as a female witness.”
His warm breath tickled her ear and sent scintillating currents of hot desire pulsing through her.
Rising to her toes, she spoke into his ear. “I missed ye.”
Even in the gloomy half-light, she could see the desire glinting in his eyes. As always, his manly scent—soap, shaving lather, and a hint of spice—made her long to bury her face in his corded neck.
Several interminable moments passed, and just when Kendra was certain the countess had escaped them, a rasping creak echoed deep within the wall.
Stiffening, and on pins and needles, she held her breath.
Broden went rigid beside her and placed his palm on her shoulder in a silent warning. His touch took the edge off her nerves. But only the edge. God only knew what the countess was capable of.
The panel swung open with a rusty groan, and the Lady Montforth crept out, wearing a plain, drab brown cloak. Likely a servant’s.
She took but three halting steps before Broden spoke.
“Goin’ somewhere?”
Lady Montforth swung to face them, sheer loathing contorting her face. Her lips curled into a gloating sneer as she clumsily raised a blunderbuss from the folds of her cloak.
Oh, God.
Chapter Twelve
Broden shoved Kendra behind him, blocking her from the pistol’s aim. He cursed himself for a fool for not having anticipated Narcissa would be armed. For underestimating her deviousness and her determination.
The countess laughed, a tinny sound, bordering on unhinged.
Nae, no’ borderin’. Chin deep in madness.
“How very touching. You’re trying to protect your Scottish harlot.” She shook her head, almost condolatory as if explaining a complicated rule to an errant child. “You cannot be permitted to wed her, of course. Or anyone, for that matter. It just won’t do.” She blinked up at him benignly, completely in the grips of her insanity. “It would disrupt years and years of meticulous planning, you see.”
Kendra poked her head around Broden’s shoulder. “Why do ye care who he weds? Ye and yer daughters will be well-cared for and have everythin’ ye could possibly require. He’s a kind, generous man.”
“Kendra, stay behind me,” he practically growled when she edged even closer to his side. He’d seen tetched in the head people before. One minute, they appeared perfectly sane and coherent, and the next, they frothed at the mouth, absolutely out of control.
What did she think to accomplish, defending him to this crazed woman, anyway?
On silent feet, Liam had skirted the display table and was now within a couple of yards of the countess. He but awaited Broden’s signal to seize her from behind. Nonetheless, the manner in which she wielded the pistol called for caution.
“Children,” Narcissa muttered, in bored tones. “Specifically, male offspring. He might sire a son.” A befuddled frown pulled her eyebrows together. “Though, I suppose, there’s no guarantee a male would live to adulthood.” In a blink, her mien transformed into maniacal cunning. “I made certain mine didn’t.”
Shite. She was bloody insane.
Kendra choked on a strangled gasp and clutched Broden’s arm, her nails digging into the flesh even through his coat and shirt. “Ye…? Ye harmed yer own wee bairns?” Repugnance and incredulity thickened her voice, making it raspy.
God above. He swallowed against the acrid bile climbing his throat.
Narcissa gave a disinterested shrug as if she hadn’t revealed a horrendous fact as casually as selecting which bonnet to wear to the park. “Philibius and I have been systematically disposing of Montforth heirs for years.”
Did the du
nderheaded woman think she could confess her crimes before witnesses and not pay the consequences? After all, there were three of them—although she wasn’t aware of Liam’s presence—and she only had one shot. Surely she wasn’t so addled that she didn’t comprehend that truth of the situation.
Or mayhap, she was.
Vigilant, every sense on high alert and every muscle poised, ready to spring, Broden watched her as he would a viper about to strike. Mindful to keep his focus on her, lest she become aware of Liam stealthily stealing up behind her, he asked, “Why? Ye canna inherit and neither can yer daughters.”
Releasing an exaggerated sigh, she worked her supercilious gaze over him.
“Fool. You are thinking like a typical man. I, however, possess a woman’s shrewdness. A woman’s dauntlessness, and have had my fill of men governing my life. At my direction, and with a bit of incentive, Philibius made a few subtle amendments to the prior earl’s will.”
Broden could guess what those incentives were.
“Naturally, I cannot inherit any of the entailed properties,” she said offhandedly, as she slid a side-eyed look to the terrace.
The snow-blanketed grounds appeared serene and peaceful.
More than a dozen warriors lurked without, ready to vault into action at the snap of a finger. He hadn’t a single misgiving Graeme and Coburn had their guns’ sights trained on her, but if they were too far away, their shots mightn’t hit their mark as intended.
He must keep her distracted. Prevent her from realizing the peril she was now in. Irrational people often reacted with a paranatural strength when cornered. “So why are ye disposin’ of the Montforth heirs?”
Though he didn’t dare glance in her direction, he heard Kendra’s short breaths, felt the abhorrence for the countess radiating off her.
“Silly.” Narcissa giggled airily. “If no males remain in the line, I can—will—inherit everything else. It amounts to a substantial fortune and includes several properties and businesses. Have you any idea what that kind of freedom means to a woman like me? One who’s been bred to be married off like a prize horse to the highest bidder? Whose only value is producing sons?”
To Enchant a Highland Earl Page 11