Page 20 of Echoes of a Forgotten Warrior (A Highland Ruse of Love #2)

19

F inian went to the guard post at the gate, apparently to admire the darkening landscape surrounding Rosskern. The lights of the village were twinkling in the distance, but a great chasm of darkness lay between them and the castle, and he could see very little. There were still plenty of people around him, but when darkness fell completely he knew that the space he was standing in would be deserted, and conditions would be ideal for the disposal of a corpse.

Finian was thinking the unthinkable; how they would carry away Connor’s dead body to dispose of it, and where they would bury him. It would have to be somewhere out of the way where no one could find it. There would be no marker, and no prayers would be said for Connor. His brother did not deserve that, Finian thought angrily.

He strolled away, apparently going back inside, but instead he stepped into one of the dark alcoves under the stairs just behind the guard post and waited. He knew that Sutherland’s garrison was scrupulously loyal to him, probably because he had terrorised them into it, as Blaire had suggested.

Presently, two guards came and stood with a group of others, and as luck would have it, they began to discuss Connor. Finian had been merely hoping to get information about where the guards would be stationed and some more general intelligence, but he struck gold at once.

“After the weddin’ tomorrow, we go in an’ finish Connor Lovatt off,” one of them said. “Laird’s orders.”

“How?” one of the others asked.

“The quickest way,” the first man replied. “He said he would leave that up tae us, just make sure that we are quiet about it. He said tae dae it at nighttime, so there would be naebody around.”

Finian felt as though he would like to jump out and strangle each man with his bare hands, but he reined in his fury with a great effort of will. He waited for another few moments to see if any more nuggets of valuable information came his way, but the conversation had drifted onto mundane matters. It was as if murder were a casual topic they discussed every day. He needed to tell Blaire so that they could form a plan of action. No one was going to hurt his brother while Finian was around to stop them. He strode away, seething.

Should he try to get his father to intervene?

I will try. I must try , he thought, determined. Because I could not live with myself otherwise.

Finian went to Laird Lovatt’s chamber and found him reading a book as if nothing were amiss. Any other father would have been spending some time with his son, savouring every moment of time they had together, or fighting to save him. However, for Errol Lovatt it might have been any other ordinary night, Finian thought, not the night before his son’s wedding or the one after his second son had been imprisoned.

My god, he thought. Do you have no heart at all?

Errol Lovatt looked up from his book, irritated. “Why are you bothering me at this time of night?” he asked peevishly.

“It is barely dark, Father,” Finian barked. “I have come to see you about Connor. I have heard that Laird Sutherland has given orders that he is to be killed in his cell tomorrow night. You must help us to stop him!”

He stopped talking and waited, but his father said nothing. Finian thought at first that he had been shocked into silence, but he soon realised that this was not the case. Lovatt was not outraged, but afraid.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked helplessly. “We are here in his castle with his guards all around us. We can do nothing.”

Finian froze for a moment, unable to believe what he had just heard, then he hauled his father out of his chair and held him so close that their noses were only inches apart.

“I cannot believe my ears; a father who will do nothing to save his own son’s life?” His voice was high with indignation and his face flushed crimson with fury. “You will do nothing”—he poked his father in the chest with his forefinger—“because you are a lily-livered coward! I will save him myself, and if I find that you have said a word to Sutherland to sabotage me, there will be hell to pay, Father!”

Then, with one venomous glance at Laird Lovatt, he left.

W HEN F INIAN VISITED Blaire’s temporary chamber, he was prepared for the worst, since he knew her reaction would be volatile. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment, feeling his heart racing. He summoned all his courage before knocking, and the few seconds he had to wait for Blaire seemed endless.

She answered the door wearing a brown woollen robe that had obviously been Katrina’s, and although she hated the idea of putting on anything her late sister had worn, she had no choice.

It was practical and warm, but it still had her scent on it, which made Blaire feel slightly squeamish. She would also be obliged to wear one of her dresses for the wedding the following day, despite the fact that it was the last thing she wanted to do. However, this was a minor sacrifice if it helped to establish peace and saved lives.

As soon as she laid eyes on Finian, Blaire could tell there was something wrong. His eyes were black with rage, and he looked as though he would happily knock whoever resisted him at that moment into oblivion.

She ushered him over to a chair and sent for some mulled wine. “Sit down, Finian. Calm yourself and tell me what happened.”

As Finian explained, she was in so much shock that her knees had weakened, and she almost fell down. She knew her father was ruthless, but she wanted to believe that Connor’s father would at least try to save his son at the last second. She was raging, but tried to keep herself under control.

Finian slapped the flat of his hand on the chair, which was fortunately made of padded leather instead of wood. “He is not my father any more, Blaire,” he growled. “He is a coward of the first order, and I want nothing more to do with him. I will do my duty to my people, but I will not be his son any more.”

He put his head on his knees and folded his arms around it, trying to recover his composure. When he lifted it again to look at Blaire, his cheeks were wet with tears, which he dashed away quickly with the heels of his hands. “Look at me, behaving like a child,” he said irritably. “I am sorry, Blaire.”

“No need to be.” She knelt down in front of him and put a hand on his knee. “You are a human being, Finian, and you are entitled to cry or laugh or yell if you wish. Remember that, and never be ashamed.”

Finian put his head between his knees once more, and Blaire felt suddenly terrified.

When he looked up, he said as if he couldn’t believe it himself, “He said he would not help us.”

For a moment, she could not quite take in what she had heard, then she felt a surge of rage that threatened to overwhelm her. She sprang to her feet and began to pace the floor, back and forth because she did not know what else to do at that moment. Finian rose to his feet and wrapped his arms around her, pressing her head onto his shoulder.

“I am not Connor,” he said soothingly, “but from tomorrow onwards, if everything goes to our fathers’ plans, we will be husband and wife. I know neither of us wants this, but we may have to go along with it if all else fails.”

Blaire nodded against his shoulder then lifted her head and gave him a tremulous smile. “You are a good man, Finian,” she told him. “I know that whatever happens, we will always be friends.”

“We will,” he confirmed. “But there is something I have to tell you, Blaire, and I hope it does not make you change your mind about me.”

Blaire felt a lump of dread drop into her stomach. “Tell me,” she said, trying to stop her voice from trembling.

Finian sighed and looked at the carpet. When he began to speak, his voice was hoarse. “I was the one who paid the men to ambush the carriage with Connor and Katrina in it.”

The words fell like hammer blows into Blaire’s consciousness. She let out a great gasp of shock and flopped into a chair, staring at him with her mouth agape.

“I was blinded by love,” he said. “Obsessed with it, in fact. I wanted some more time with Isla, and I knew that my father would never allow it, so I engaged the services of half-a-dozen thugs to ambush the carriage, which I thought I would be travelling in. It was only meant to scare Katrina, but they went too far and knocked it over while they stripped it of all the valuables, and left Katrina to die.

The driver was one of them, so he knew where to go, but when I went to start the journey to Rosskern, I found that Connor had gone before me to fetch Katrina himself. I prayed that he would come back in one piece, but as time went on, I realised that something dreadful had happened.

It was nighttime, and I couldn’t go out till the morning, so I paced the floor and worried all night. Oh, god—” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I took some men out at first light, and we found Katrina. I cannot bear to think about her poor body. We looked everywhere for Connor, but we could not find him anywhere, and eventually, we gave up. It looked as though the robbery had been staged to cover Katrina’s murder, as you know, but I knew with absolute certainty that Connor could never kill anyone. He says even rats have a right to live.

This is all my fault, Blaire. If I had not been so selfish, only thinking of my own coming heartbreak, Connor would never have suffered as he did. If I could turn back time, I would surely do so. I am so ashamed of what I did, and how much suffering I put everyone through, but mostly I am sorry for Katrina’s death. I was not in love with her, but I never wished her any harm.”

Blaire took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, trying to stay calm. She felt like screaming, but managed to keep herself in check. “What happened to the bandits?” she asked. “Did they escape?”

“Yes,” he replied. “No one has seen them since.” Finally, he looked up at her. “I am the one who should be in that cell in Connor’s place, Blaire. I should have confessed a long time ago.”

“Yes, you should have,” she agreed.

She walked over to the window and looked out at the night sky, which was nothing but a haze of grey cloud which was about to unleash a storm of torrential rain on them. The weather matched her mood: grey, grim and ominous. She was trying to analyse her feelings about what Finian had said. He had admitted to his part in everything, so there was nothing left for which she could berate him. She turned back to him and asked, “Why are you admitting this now? Why let the brother you profess to love so much take the blame for your sins?” she asked angrily.

“I couldn’t keep it inside any longer,” he replied. “We are to be married tomorrow, Blaire. Maybe I won’t see my brother ever again. I don’t want this on my conscience any longer. Please, if you can find it in your heart, forgive me.”

“It’s not my place to forgive or not,” Blaire answered sharply. “You must ask Connor to do that. Whatever happens, we will both be free, but he will be in a cage, or worse. So ask him.”

“I will,” Finian told her, hanging his head. “I have something for you to give to Connor, and whatever happens, Blaire, please do not let it fall into anyone else’s hands.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a letter. It was sealed with wax, but there was no crest imprinted on it, and nothing on the outside to identify the recipient.

“Please give this to Connor,” Finian told her.

“Can you not do it yourself?” Blaire asked as she took it from him.

“I will be doing other things,” he told her.

Blaire frowned. “What kind of other things?” she asked, puzzled.

“I will rescue Connor,” he answered. “I hope you will help, but I will not be in a position to deliver letters. Here is the first part of the plan.”

Finian began to outline the scheme he had devised, while Blaire sat and listened. She interrupted occasionally to ask a question, and sat quietly when he had finished, digesting what he had said. “It sounds dangerous,” she observed.

“I won’t lie to you, Blaire,” he told her. “It is, but it is also our best chance to take Connor out safely. We will have to be very careful with our lives, and especially his. I must go, so please be ready when I knock on your door in the morning.”

Blaire nodded as she closed the door behind him. She knew she would get no sleep, so she did not even bother to try. She lay down on her bed and thought of what Finian had said only a moment ago. She had kept her face impassive, seemingly unmoved by his confession, but inwardly she was shocked to her very core at the thought that Finian was capable of such a heinous deed.

Granted, he had not known Connor would be there, but he had planned the whole scheme around Katrina—what about her? Had he not considered the possibility that she might be injured or even otherwise hurt?

Then she thought about the possibility that she might have to marry him if their plan failed. Could she do it? Could she marry a man who had done such a dreadful thing? Yes, he had only meant to scare Katrina, but even that was a mean and spiteful act. Finian had tried to make up for his sins by scouring the countryside for Connor, and now he was arguing his case in court, but it hardly excused what he had done.

Blaire lay listening to her own breathing for a while and trying to calm down, but it was impossible. She was haunted by the thought of what he had done, but she decided that she would try to forgive him. However, she was not sure if she ever could.

But there was something far more urgent to consider now—rescuing Connor. Blaire would not merely try—she would succeed, or die trying.