“Are you afraid to tell me? Do you think I can somehow free myself and kill you? You’re afraid of me, aren’t you?”
He threw back his head and laughed.
Sinjun waited. She prayed he wouldn’t hit her again. Her jaw hurt dreadfully. She prayed he wouldn’t go ahead and kill her now.
“So, you want to taunt me into talking, huh? Well, why not? You’re not stupid, Sinjun. You must know that, if I please, I can easily kill both you and Colin. You are so very different from Fiona. Colin must believe he’s already died and gone to mighty rewards. You have an independent spirit and you have money, an irresistible combination. I will think about it. But, you know, telling you makes no difference to the outcome and we must pass the time. So why not tell you?”
He stretched again, then took a turn around the small room. “What a filthy place,” he said more to himself than to her.
She waited, working her hands that were tied behind her.
“Colin is a bastard,” he said abruptly, grinning hugely at her. “Ah, yes, a real bastard, as in his mother was a whore and slept with another man. Arleth knew but since she nurtured hopes of marrying the earl herself after Colin’s mother died, she feared he’d turn on her if she told him the truth, so she just made up that story about Colin’s mother and her kelpie lover. Ah, some kelpie! A flesh-and-blood man with a flesh-and-blood rod.
“The old earl never married Arleth. He bedded her, but nothing more. Then he died and Malcolm became the earl. Arleth loved Malcolm, none of us could figure out why. Malcolm was a rotter; he was petty and mean-spirited. He was occasionally quite cruel. Ah, but then he, too, passed on to his just rewards in Hades and Colin became the earl of Ashburnham.
“But you see, he was a bastard. It is I who should have become the next earl, I who should have inherited Vere Castle. Arleth was distraught when Malcolm died. She hated Colin, oh aye, she certainly did. She promised to give me proof of his illegitimacy, the old hag. She promised me the proof so Colin would be set aside and I would be the earl of Ashburnham.”
Sinjun held perfectly still. She didn’t even blink. He was furious, nearly out of control. She was more afraid than she’d ever been in her life.
He seemed to calm. He was sweating profusely. When he spoke again, his voice sounded a bit singsong, as if he were reciting words that had been in his mind for a very long time, playing themselves over and over. A justification, perhaps, for any guilt.
“Arleth tried to kill you through neglect. It was revenge against Colin because he was alive and Malcolm was dead. You survived, more’s the pity. Then the old witch had an attack of conscience. After all these bloody years, an attack of conscience! I killed her because she refused to give me the proof. I wanted to snap her scrawny neck, but I thought perhaps you would all believe her guilty of killing Fiona if you believed she’d hung herself.”
“You tied the knots much too tight at the base of the chandelier. She wouldn’t have had the strength to do that.”
He shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter now. I will have fifty thousand pounds. I will go to America, I believe. I will be a wealthy man there. I’ve decided not to kill you or Colin, unless you force me to it. Then again, perhaps I shall. There’s no reason to, really, though. I’ve never hated you or him. But killing—it exhilarates me, makes me happy in those precious moments.”
“Did you kill Fiona?”
He nodded, his expression suddenly dreamy. “Perhaps I should kill Colin. He always had what I wanted, even though he never realized it. Fiona was besotted with him, but he didn’t give a good tinker’s damn about her. She drove him mad with her ceaseless jealousy. She shrieked at him if he even looked in the direction of another woman. She didn’t care about Vere Castle or any of its people. It was just Colin, only Colin. She wanted him to be her lapdog. He should have just beaten her, it would have helped, but he didn’t. He just withdrew from her. But I wanted her, loved her, and she rejected me. Yes, Arleth gave me a potion to p
our into Colin’s ale. Since the old earl and Malcolm were both dead, she didn’t care if the whole bloody castle died; she was quite ready to assist all of them to the grave. Colin drank it and passed out. I broke Fiona’s pretty neck and tossed her over the cliff. She pleaded and promised she would love only me, but I didn’t believe her. Perhaps I wanted to for a moment or two, but then there was that odd exhilaration again. I couldn’t stop once I’d begun. I was quite the artist, Sinjun. I arranged Colin’s unconscious body right there, nearly over the edge but not quite. Had I been lucky, he would have fallen; had I been lucky, he would have been hung for her murder. But I wasn’t lucky at all.”
He stopped then, as if the spigot had turned off.
But Sinjun had to know. “Did you hire a man to kill him in London?”
“Yes, but the fool failed. I came to visit my dear cousin all happy as a clam in the home of the damned earl of Northcliffe. Safe from me, he was, but I was busy. I thought, were he to die in London, far away from Scotland, things would be easier for me, and they would have, damn him. Your brother behaved as I suspected he would when I sent the letter accusing Colin of killing Fiona. But you, Sinjun, you were completely unexpected. Whisked your lover away from London, away from your family’s interference, away from me.
“Colin blamed Robert MacPherson for everything, though all Robbie did was steal a few sheep and butcher a couple of Kinross crofters. He did try to shoot Colin in Edinburgh and even botched that up. He hit you, the blundering sod. He believes himself so cruel and wicked, does Robbie. He does it because he’s so pretty. The meaner he is, the less pretty people will see him to be. I told him that Colin had killed Fiona and he believed me because I also told him a very real truth—that I loved his sister and that I couldn’t bear that Colin get away with her murder. I convinced him that it was his responsibility to avenge his sister’s death.”
He turned then and yawned. “I don’t wish to speak anymore. Indeed, I’ve told you more than another living soul. If you have more questions, my dear, perhaps you can ask God when you reach heaven—if I decide to send you there, of course. Ah, a decision to sleep on.” He laughed.
“I think I’ll take a short nap. Perhaps a long one. You just relax, my dear, listen to the rats and their gnawing. I’ll try not to snore.”
He unfolded several blankets, spread them on the floor, and careful not to touch his clothes to the dirt, he lay down. His back was to her.
She gave him twenty minutes. She’d needed but ten minutes to work her hands free, finally. Her wrists were raw and bleeding. It didn’t matter. Soon now, very soon.
CHAPTER
21
HE DIDN’T SNORE, damn him. If only he would, she could be certain that he was really sleeping.
She couldn’t afford to wait longer. If he was pretending in order to catch her, then so be it. She had to try. Slowly, Sinjun leaned down and began to untie the knots at her ankles. It took longer to untie the knots than it took the rats to eat through the paper to get to the crumbs.
At last she was free. She rose. Quietly, very quietly. She immediately collapsed back onto the chair. Her legs wouldn’t hold her. She rubbed her ankles, rubbed her legs, one eye on her hands, the other on MacDuff. He shifted suddenly. Her breath stuck in her throat. He turned onto his back now.