Page List


Font:  

Earlier, he had hardly paid attention to the other drawing. But now, he pulled it from its pinned place and holding the candle a little closer, looked at the three people sketched on the paper before him.

At first, his eyes were drawn to Elaine’s face, for he could hardly help himself. But then, he moved his attention to the rest of it. The girl beside her was much younger than her, perhaps ten years old. The man on the other side was maybe a few years older than Elaine. There was something strangely familiar about him, and for a long moment, Duncan could not put his finger on where he had seen this man before.

Suddenly, his memory flicked scenes in his head, and he gasped at the realization of who this man was. It was a picture of Angus McNally, the lad Keir had killed in the dungeons. Only last night, Duncan had spilled his guilt to Elaine over what had happened. And yet, she had said nothing about knowing him. Duncan's confusion was soon replaced by anger, which was quickly followed by complete devastation. A rage began in his stomach and quickly spread through his entire body, enveloping him as he stood there holding the portrait.

Was this really the reason she was here? If this portrait was of her family, then had Angus McNally been her husband and the young girl their daughter?

But she was a virgin!

Duncan shook his head, trying to work through the anger that had now consumed him,andunderstand how such a thing was possible. There was no way a woman could fake such a situation. He then remembered that Angus McNally had lived with his family. Elaine could not have been married to him, but she could have been close to him in some other way.

Duncan dropped the portrait on the bed and moved to Elaine’s desk. Perhaps there were other drawings that would help him understand. Opening the drawer, he dragged out all the pictures she had sketched. But something else moved amidst the papers. Reaching inside in the dim light, Duncan grabbed hold of a small, cold receptacle.

Holding it up to the candle's flickering flame, he could see it was a small bottle, similar to the ones Samuel McKinley used to store his medicines and tonics. Duncan's blood ran cold when he read the tiny label stuck on the side.

Arsenic. My God, she is here to kill me!

Duncan no longer cared who the people were in the portrait, nor what her connection with them was. She could have been betrothed to Angus McNally for all he knew, but none of that mattered now. Clearly, for whatever reason, she was there to avenge the man’s death. And whether Duncan wanted to consider it or not, everything she had told him, the way she had acted toward him, her perceived affection for him, had all been a lie. She had betrayed him from the very beginning, and determined to get her revenge, she had taken on a role to get near him. Everything he knew about her was a lie.

What a fool he had been not to suspect her intentions when he had first discovered she had not lay with another man.She is supposed to be a lady o’ pleasure, for God’s sake!He had been completely blinded and letting his emotions rule him, he had been taken in by her beauty. There had been times he had noticed her innocence and bashfulness about her body and his attentions to her—now he knew why.

Hewas nearly broken by the realization that he had fallen in love with a woman who was not real. Devastation, pain, and agony swirled inside of him—his heart and soul in shambles. She'd seen him at his weakest, sobbing over Cora and Eoin's deaths. She had comforted him out of kindness. But none of it was genuine. She was probably laughing at his pain, pleased that he was broken, and even reveling in the fact that he had been foolish enough to trust her beneath the veneer of loving care.

With those thoughts, his anger rose once more. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself. Well, she had been caught out, and she would never get close to him again. Strangely, he felt a small victory from the fact that he had not told her how he truly felt about her. At least he had not lowered himself that much. She had played her part perfectly; he would give her that. On no occasion had he felt her presence or the way she had been with him to be false. She had been patient, biding her time, but in the end, she had failed.

Now, he must decide what to do with her. Though she had manipulated her way into the castle, Elaine had not actually caused him any harm.Well, not yet.Still, intentions were not the same as committing the crime. And with that in mind, he could hardly sentence her to execution. Perhaps, for now, the dungeon would be the best place for her. As a prisoner, she could get up to no mischief. Under heavy guard, she would not be able to accomplish what she had come to the castle to do.

Duncan took the small vial, taking Elaine, Angus McNally, and the young girl's portraitswith him. They'd come in handy later on when he decided to question her. He strode out of her bedchamber and down the corridor, where he discovered a guard at the top of the grand stairway.

Hearing Duncan’s footsteps, the guard suddenly stood a little straighter, and turning to see who approached, looked stunned as he realized it was the laird.

“My Laird,” he said with surprise. “Is all well? ‘Tis the middle o’ the night.”

“All is nae well,” Duncan replied. “Run down tae the dungeons and gather two others. Send them directly tae my bedchamber and return tae your station when yer done.”

Though a frown of bewilderment danced upon his brow, the guard did not hesitate.

“Aye, my Laird.” Nodding firmly, he swiftly turned and began a hurried descent down the stairway, his footsteps echoing off the stone walls before he was soon lost in the shadows of the castle.

Duncan did not move straight away. Remaining where he stood, a small niggle of doubt crossed his mind.

Are ye certain yer doing the right thing?

Once he committed this action, there would be no going back. If he was wrong about her, she would never forgive him—she was being sent to the same dungeon where Angus McNally had died, and word would soon spread throughout the castle. She'd be completely humiliated, her name sullied by a stain that wouldn't be easily removed. Though he fought it, the memory of her with him the night before replayed in his mind.

“Did ye like my gift?”he had asked her.

“I did. It was beautiful, Duncan. Nae one has ever done anything like that for me before.”

“Well, I dinnae ken why. Ye deserve the best o’ everything.”

He had meant those words and in return, she had appeared profoundly thankful. As he thought about the way she had affectionately gazed up at him, he could not remember detecting any falseness in her gratitude. They had lay with each other after that. And even then, she had given herself to him completely. Either she was the best performer he had ever come across, or his assumptions were wrong. And yet, he stood at that very moment with a vial of poison in his pocket that had been discovered in her bedchamber.

His heart battled with his mind. For where the logic was obvious, the love he had for her only served to protect her, desperate to find any other possible explanation to what he had discovered. Yet, no matter how hard he desired it, how could it be any other way? She was not a lady of pleasure, nor had she ever been. The entire premise of her reason for being at the castle was false. If that was the case, how could anything after that be anything but the same?

She had left him no choice. Had it been any other in the castle, there would be no hesitation on his part at all. No matter how painful it might be, Duncan had to see her for what she was. A trickster, someone who had used her beauty and charm to weasel her way into his arms, his bed, and eventually, his heart. Though, he could not help but wonder if the latter had been part of her plan. Could she really be blamed that he had allowed himself to fall in love with her so easily?

Perhaps not, but she had certainly used his pain of loss against him. Whether that had been intentional or not, he could not know. Once more, as he thought back to that night he had broken down and relayed his sorrow at the death of his family, she had appeared completely distraught at what he had told her.


Tags: Kenna Kendrick Historical