Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
“What are you reading?” Lord Abbott growled, beating Margo to speak.
He seemed to have calmed down since they arrived. There was no longer an air of impatience about him. He looked much more like the man that she had grown up with.
It is despicable how quickly he can become someone completely different.
“Something that Mother left for me,” Margo said, standing up with the pages held tightly in her fist. “It’s quite interesting, really.”
His eyes narrowed, focusing on the stack of pages in her hand. On top was one of her mother’s letters. When he recognized the handwriting, his entire demeanor seemed to change. As his shoulders stiffened, his face turned red with defensive anger.
“Whatever it is you have found cannot be taken as fact,” he said, hints of the charming tone he usually used with his allies dripping through his ire.
He was trying to convince Margo, but he knew all too well he had been caught.
“Your mother, God bless her soul, was not wise in the ways of business. She left you a letter about what she thought happened. It is not based on truth.”
“It is not just a letter though, Father,” Margo said, pulling out one of the property records. “This document was signed by two witnesses; it is proof that you gave fraudulent information when you sold the lands to the late Laird MacLeod.”
The information visibly landed in Lord Abbott’s mind. She had confirmed that she had him cornered, that she knew the depth of his lies, and could ruin him the second she could speak to someone with any authority. His smirk turned sinister, his sharp canine teeth digging into his bottom lip.
Margo knew he was going to cross the room seconds before he did. She moved quickly, shoving the pages beneath the cushion. When she turned toward him once more, she raised her arms, protecting herself from the slap he delivered. It was hard, stinging her arm, even though the sleeve of her gown.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about!” he cried, following her when she backed away.
He made himself bigger, taller, towering over Margo and glaring down at her with hatred burning in his eyes.
The few good moments she had shared with him went up in flames.
It did not matter that he had spent time teaching her to read, nor the fact he had been the one to teach her how to dance.
This was a villain, one that she had unknowingly lived with for most of her life.
“Do you understand what you’ve done?” Margo asked desperately, her hands scrambling over the bookshelf to find something she could use as a weapon.
Lord Abbott’s fist came at her once again, and Margo yanked a book from its place. Somehow, she managed to block the blow, though it radiated up her arms, all the way to her elbows. He was unrelenting, going for her again. This time, she met his swing with the flat surface of the book.
The novel slipped from her hands, tumbling to the ground between them. Her body nearly froze as she realized just how vulnerable she was. She forced herself to move. Without looking over her shoulder, she darted past him and slipped through the open door.
“You won’t get far!” he yelled, his voice catching up with her when she was halfway down the corridor. “The castle is surrounded by guards!”
That did not matter to Margo. All she could think of was getting away from him. She would deal with a guard if she came across one.
When Lord Abbott’s heavy footfalls came thundering after her, she desperately looked around the hallway. Spotting a weighty-looking candlestick, she took hold of it. The object felt good in her hands, solid. She could protect herself with it if she absolutely had to.
“Do you really think you can get away from me, girl?” Lord Abbott yelled, something crashing to the floor as he apparently threw it in anger. “Every second you run away from me is only going to make your punishment worse.”
“Whatever you throw at me is no worse than what’s awaiting you!” she called back, not knowing where the taunt came from, only knowing that it was true.
Nearly losing her footing, she righted herself just in time to brace herself for the blow he delivered to her shoulder. Margo cried out in pain, reeling around and cocking back the candlestick. Before she could even consider what she was doing, she brought it down upon her father’s forehead.
As blood poured from the wound, he let out a guttural scream.
It froze her to her core, and the noise coupled with the sight of all his blood was almost enough to make her quit fighting.
But then she remembered the way he roared with rage, the lack of concern he had toward her well-being, toward her personhood.
“I am not fooled by you any longer!” she cried, her chest heaving as she raised the candlestick again.
She did not want him dead; she just wanted him incapacitated long enough that she could retrieve the documents and run.
“I have seen the truth behind all of your deception, and I will not stop until the entirety of both England and Scotland know of your ways.”
“You assume you can overpower me,” he spat, furiously wiping blood away from his eyes.
“I know I can,” she replied as she gathered all of her strength.
Just before she brought the candlestick down once more, the doors to the castle opened. As the sound echoed through the corridors, her father’s stance shifted. He froze, stiffening as a stampede of boots approached them.
Amongst the sound of men speaking with each other in terse, hushed tones was the sound of Cameron’s voice.
He came for me.
Each and every one of Cameron’s senses was focused on finding Margo. He knew she was here, could hear the echo of her ragged breath from wherever she was inside the bowels of this old building. And he knew she was fighting.
He had seen the tracks of the carriage, the way it had rocked precariously at several points during the ride. Margo was not going easily, and for all he knew, it saved her life.
When he turned the corner, he saw his wife standing there.
In her hands was a heavy brass candlestick, blood dripping from it into a perfect little puddle on the floor next to her feet.
Lord Abbott stood before her, blood pouring steadily from a wound that perfectly matched the base of the object.
Realizing he was being stared at, the Lord grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket and held it against his forehead.
“He falsified the documents,” Margo breathed, the words rushing out of her lips. “The documents he used to facilitate the land transfer between himself and your father. Cameron, those lands were never worthless. He let you believe they were.”
Cameron’s eyes narrowed, flicking between Margo and her father.
He believed her without a shadow of a doubt.
Lord Abbott seemed more than capable of concocting a plan that would not fully pay off until years down the line.
Still, the accusation was not enough to take him down.
It was a claim too outlandish to hold weight.
“Ye’ve seen proof?” Cameron asked, his eyes never leaving Lord Abbott. The man looked as if he was trying to posture himself as misunderstood, as a victim in this scenario. “Or he confessed?”
“She’s—”
“I wasnae speaking to ye!” Cameron snapped, cutting off Lord Abbott before he could attempt to spin the situation in his favor. He turned to Margo, holding her gaze. He saw her fear, but he also saw her determination, her sureness of the truth. “Margo?”
“Proof,” she answered, holding the candlestick with both hands in front of her. “Documents, in the study. My mother left them for me to find.” She paused, swallowing hard as she took a deep breath. “She said that it would protect us. It will protect you as well.”
“Gavin,” Cameron barked, his man-at-arms walking forward and taking his place at his shoulder.
“Accompany Margo to retrieve the documents.” He looked back, finding Nicolas shrinking away.
“Ye will come here. Where I can see ye.” His eyes flicked back to Lord Abbott.
“Restrain him. I willnae have him attemptin’ to flee while we get this sorted. ”
The corridor burst into organized movement. Cameron’s command was law, and no one, not even Lord Abbott, was willing to break it. As the men moved, Gavin followed Margo deeper into the castle while Cameron split his attention between Margo’s father and Nicolas.
Time crawled by, and with each passing moment Lord Abbott seemed to grow more and more agitated.
It had likely dawned on him that his lies were catching up to him, that Cameron would be the one to deliver the consequences.
The debate on whether he should attempt to run or stand and face this like a man was visible on Lord Abbott’s features.
“This is quite damning,” Gavin said as he and Margo approached them once more.
She looked steadier, the color in her cheeks returning to normal.
When she met Cameron’s eye, her determination was palpable.
A sharp surge of pride went through him, sweetened by the gratitude he felt toward this gorgeous woman.
She had provided him with everything he needed to take down her father.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Cameron said, accepting the packet of documents when Gavin presented them.
Silence settled in the corridor, everyone watching as Cameron took his time reading through each line on every page.
It was as if every single person present was holding their breath.
He thought he was, too. The words seemed to both shake him to his very core and settle something that he had not known was out of balance.
Nay one would believe any of this if Margo dinnae find it. It is so far-fetched and outlandish that I still cannae understand how any of it worked.
“For years,” Cameron said slowly, finally looking away from the inspection deed that was on top of the stack, “ye lined yer own pockets with increasingly wild schemes.” He took a step forward, his fingers crumpling the edges of the old parchment.
“And all of it was at the expense of others. It wasnae just Clan MacLeod that suffered at yer hands.”
“Would you not do anything you could to protect your family?” Lord Abbott said, somehow finding the gall within him to be defensive. “Everything I did was to secure my daughters’ futures. You must understand doing what you must to protect your legacy.”
“I wouldnae do anythin’ that caused other people to starve or live in hovels that daenae even keep out the rain,” Cameron countered, marching forward several steps.
In his peripheral vision, he saw Gavin grab hold of Nicolas’s arm.
“Ye dinnae stop to think for a single second what kind of impact yer schemein’ would have.
Or…” he paused, coming ever closer to Lord Abbott, “ye thought about what would happen to others and ye decided it dinnae matter as long as ye were livin’ lavishly. ”
“You twist my intentions,” Lord Abbott countered. “It was not by design that people suffered. I was truly doing what was right for my family. If you’d like my ledgers, I can prove to you that—”
“I’m nae interested in anythin’ from ye,” Cameron snapped, refusing to let the Lord say anything else. It would only be more lies. “Nor am I interested in hearin’ how ye did this for yer family.”
“He didn’t,” Margo said, finally finding her voice. When Cameron turned his head to look at her, she was staring directly at her father. “He didn’t do any of this for his family.”
“Did you not live under my roof?” Lord Abbott demanded, infuriated that his daughter was not going along with his lies. “Were you not fed and clothed by the deals I made? Do you have any idea how much I sacrificed for you and your sister?”
“You did the bare minimum to keep yourself from being seen as the wicked man that you are,” she countered.
She moved closer, taking a stance only half a step behind Cameron.
“Eleanor and I were dressed because you would be judged otherwise. You educated us because it was what you had to do, lest your peers ridicule you for having uneducated daughters. And even that, you pushed onto Mother while she was still alive!”
“Margo—”
“You never loved us.” She sounded so sure of herself.
It was because she was correct, Cameron realized.
“You never sacrificed anything but other people. Nothing you ever did was for our protection or our benefit. You jumped at the first opportunity you were given to use us for your own personal gain.”
Cameron could feel the anger radiating off of Margo in waves. If he imagined himself as a storm battering the cliffs, she was the sea that created the winds and formed the clouds. For a flash, he was sure that she was going to strike him, her body coiling as she came to stand beside him.
“Every single good thing that has happened to me,” she continued, her tone more deadly than Cameron had ever heard it before, “every single good thing that has happened to Eleanor. It has not happened because of you. It has happened despite you.”
Her chest heaved as she positioned herself directly in front of her father.
Glaring up at him, she stood her ground.
It was a blatant provocation, the kind that made Cameron shift on his feet and prepare to intervene.
Lord Abbott seemed to be a burning beacon of anger, his face troublingly unreadable.
Ye’re testin’ yer luck now, lass.