Chapter Twenty-One #2
A murmur circulated through the men. Surprise flickered across Price's impassive face. Marcus had the sudden urge to slip the knife from his boot and throw it at him. However, the mental image of Price's fine white shirt darkening with his blood dissipated when Brentley said, “As it is, I will have to satisfy myself with the punishment allowed by the law. As you may know, Judge Quinley and I are well acquainted. I will see to it he takes a personal interest in this case. I have always known you were a scoundrel, but this”—Brentley faltered—”this goes beyond anything I could have imagined.”
He shook his head, his blue eyes clouded with disbelief. “The things Elise claims in this document…” He paused and held Price's gaze. “It's a wonder the girl survived.” He looked at Marcus. “You have my deepest sympathies, Lord Ashlund.”
Marcus's gut twisted. What more was wrong with Elise than Steven had admitted?
What had Brentley seen that the younger man hadn't?
Marcus gave a single nod and, once again, everyone began talking.
He glanced at Ardsley. Price met his gaze with the same unruffled expression he always wore.
A chill passed through Marcus. He turned and left the room.
A moment later, Marcus and Steven stepped from the mansion out onto the front steps.
Marcus looked from the boy who stood at the bottom of the stairs holding his and Steven's horses across the trees surrounding the mansion to the sky that hinted at dawn.
He and Steven strode down the steps, mounted their horses and urged them into a walk.
They rode in silence until passing from the gates.
“Elise is safely sailed on the Surrey?” Marcus asked.
“Justin smuggled her off the Josephine. An easy feat with the Surrey docked only two slips down. I watched the ship sail. No one suspected a thing, including Brentley and the others.”
Marcus allowed the first breath of relief since Elise had gone missing. Autumn was just beginning. The journey would be an easy one. “Steven,” he said in a quiet voice, “is she truly well?”
“As I said, her shoulder is dislocated and she hasn't bathed since leaving Scotland.”
“Otherwise?”
Steven hesitated, then said, “In a way, she's the Elise I knew; in a way, she isn't.” He paused. “She has passed through fire since I last saw her, but losing Amelia changed her, and there is her marriage to you.”
“We were wed but a night when Price took her.”
Steven blew out a breath. “You didn't mention that.”
Marcus looked at him. “She is my wife. It doesn't matter whether for a day or a year.”
“I suppose not.” Another moment of silence passed and Steven said, “She had no idea you were coming for her.”
Marcus jerked his gaze onto Steven.
“I believe she had hoped you wouldn't come.”
“Bloody hell,” Marcus burst out. “Why?”
“It's easy to see she lied to you.”
“She didn't tell me about Ardsley.”
“Neither did she tell you she shot Robert.”
“Nae,” Marcus replied.
“She saved my life. You think she knew about the bounty on her head?”
“How could—” Marcus stopped, remembering the night at Michael's when she laid the onion before Michael after removing his copy of the Sunday Times—the copy Erin had brought.
Everyone in Brahan Seer knew how Michael loved reading the newspaper.
Anyone passing through Edinburgh brought a copy at least as far as the Glaistig Uain.
From there, the copy, eventually, made its way to Michael.
Elise lived at Brahan Seer for four months before Marcus returned.
All that time she had been going to the cottage and searching the paper for news.
By God, on his return from London the last time, he had brought a copy of the paper. It still sat on his desk.
“Why not simply ask to have the paper brought to Brahan Seer?” Marcus whispered.
“What?” Steven asked.
“I thought I had never met a woman more stubborn.”
“And something has altered your assessment?”
Marcus smiled, but the smile faded as quickly as it appeared.
He looked past the trees that lined the road up to the sky.
The ship he was to sail on awaited him. Three more weeks would pass before he got his answers.
His gut tightened another notch. He had enough answers to last a lifetime.
Elise hadn't wanted him to come for her. Did he need more?
“She asked about you,” Steven said.
“What?” Marcus looked at him, startled.
“We had no time for discussion.” Steven gave a mirthless laugh. “Seems that's how it has been with us for some time. Had I taken more time—never mind. We had a devil of a time convincing her to get on the ship this morning. She didn't want to leave without you.”
Relief mingled with frustration. “By God,” Marcus muttered.
Steven laughed in earnest this time. “Surely, you expected no less.”
“I expect her to have some common sense.”
“What is common sense, Ashlund? Well, never mind. She's made a mess of things and knows it—”
A shot rang out.
A bullet whizzed past Marcus's ear. His horse lunged forward.
Marcus yanked on the reins, following Steven, who already galloped for the cover of trees.
Another shot resounded and Marcus saw wood splinter in the tree he sped past. He pulled his horse up alongside the place Steven had leapt from his horse.
“Price,” Steven hissed.
He yanked the pistol from his waistband and crept toward the edge of the trees. Marcus jumped from his horse and started after him. Steven halted just before the trees gave way to the road, then darted from the cover of the forest.
“Steven!” Marcus shouted, and raced after him.
Marcus's heart hammered against his chest. He dove into the trees across the road and came to a skidding halt at seeing Steven, pistol raised and aimed at Kiernan.
“Son-of-a-bitch!” Steven yelled, and squeezed back on the trigger.