Freya’s eyes went wide. “The other?” she mouthed the question.
“Not certain,” he told her.
“Why all the whispering?” MacAlasdair barked.
Aaran initially ignored the question. Instead, he tied off Duncan’s bandage and assisted his father to a seated position before he responded. “I was disclosing your identity to Lady Freya,” he said with more calm than he felt. He was about to upset the rules of engagement in such situations. Aaran had yet to hear the signal from his brothers that they were in place. “HisLordship and I were already aware of your plans to harm our family.”
“You are not part of Duncan’s family!” MacAlasdair shouted. “You are Aaran Graham’s bastard!”
“I proved otherwise before the courts of Scotland,” Duncan said with less emphasis than usual, but Lord Macdonald Duncan still held all the authority of his earldom and his place in the British government. “The elder Lord Graham was a bounder and never the proper gentleman that his son has proven to be. The elder proved himself to be an arse of the first tier.” Duncan paused briefly to catch his breath. “The only thing good I can say of the man is he sired two sons who will change the face of Scotland.
“As for today,” Duncan continued, “I am glad to know with confidence that we were chasing more than one culprit. I will admit that we were quite confused at times. The descriptions were contradictory. The man in Covent Garden. The one who fell into the river. The one who killed a kindly old woman. The one who pretended to be a magistrate so he might kill Almano. The one who killed Mr. Stark in Yorkshire. They all held similarities, but none matched perfectly.”
“What do you think you know?” the shortest of the three demanded with such vehemence that Lady Freya jumped back in surprise and fell into a nearby chair.
Duncan raised his chin in defiance. “I know my former friend Donegal MacAlasdair has joined forces against me. You really should not have come to Kent. If so, I might not have made the connections. You led me to my conclusion. From what all that has occurred, I am guessing all three of you have played a part in this madness.”
“You know nothing!” the shortest declared as he pointed his gun at Duncan.
“I know when MacAlasdair shot me before the Lyon’s Den, either you or Lady Rayland purposely left behind the coat we later recovered in the Lyon’s Den garden. We were correct in assuming my shooter was a tall man, but with the smaller coat, initially, you fooled us into believing my shooter was slimmer than we suspected. Standing on the street and against the shop when my sons returned me to Duncan Place also had us confused. You are to be congratulated on your planning.”
MacAlasdair growled at the others. “I told you he would not be easily fooled.”
“Keep your mouth closed,” the shortest ordered as he pointed his gun at MacAlasdair.
As was typical for His Lordship, Duncan ignored their bickering. “I am assuming you were also the man in opera attire that Lord Orson chased through Covent Garden and also the man Lord Marksman shot outside of London and who fell in the river. Naturally, if anyone asked, you could easily have claimed you were looking at the rising water and accidentally fell in. No one would question a man who is considered a religious scholar. However, when we met in the village, I noticed a slight limp, which did not initially make sense, but… Could they not remove the bullet or is it a wound that easily festers? As to the paint or whatever you wore on your face on that particular day, it could have been easily washed away. Were you afraid that Theodora would recognize a friend of her father? Was that the purpose of all the paint? Or did you not tell Almano of our previous connection? Was Almano becoming too curious for your safety? Afraid he would blackmail you? Just so you know, after encountering you in the village outside my son’s estate, I asked questions and found out you delivered a series of lectures in the area of the abandoned house where Almano took Theodora and where the man later died.”
“I would not have harmed Lady Theodora,” the man said with a shrug of uncomfortableness. “She looks very much like her mother.”
“My wife,” Duncan announced with a lift of his chin in an apparent challenge. “In case you thought otherwise, I did not know you had approached Elsbeth’s father regarding a possible marriage until after our nuptials.”
“Would you have refused to marry her?” MacAlasdair asked as he removed his mask. “Did our friendship mean nothing to you?”
“I can say with all honesty, my admiration for Lady Elsbeth was set with a single glance, and it robbed me of any reason or responsibility. I courted her and wed her in less than six weeks. I only had Elsbeth on my mind those forty days. You were away at the time, and I did not think to consult my long-time friend on my choices. Though, even if I had known, I doubt I would have executed more than offering you an apology. I would not have changed my mind. I did not know of your interest. Elsbeth’s father spoke of it in hindsight, but I was told he had never begun negotiations with you. He also said he would have denied your request because he wanted a higher position in society for his daughter.”
Aaran glanced to where Lady Freya looked on in wide-eyed wonder, and he realized she, too, admired Duncan’s total commitment to Lady Elsbeth and wished for the same for herself. In that moment, Aaran silently swore he would spend his days adoring Freya Cunningham.
Duncan did not wait for MacAlasdair to continue his complaints. Instead, His Lordship turned to the one they all knew to be Lady Rayland. “Eímear Boyde, you play a smaller role in this madness than does the man you have loved for more years than many would understand, especially as it ruined your marriage to both the elder Lord Graham and to Lord Roland.I imagine it was difficult for you to be away from Society for several days when MacAlasdair required your participation in his schemes. I have proof you were the one who followed my daughter on the day of Lord Orson’s wedding, and I suspect it was you who knocked Lady Thompson’s bag from her hands, though I do not believe you could run those long needles into Mrs. Taylor’s eyes after the lady was killed.
“In many ways, it was a shame that your parents did not permit you to marry MacAlasdair. They considered him too poor for their daughter, and, of course, he had no title, so they bargained your beauty away. Unfortunately for all involved, you were in love with him. Are still in love with him, if I am not mistaken. Meanwhile, he was happy to encourage you to marry two different Scottish lords and, finally, Lord Rayland. Did you realize, my lady, how much of each of those lords’ fortunes he was carrying off as his own? Have you yet to realize how easily he chooses to leave your name in the mud and how society shuns you? In my opinion, even his reported fondness for my late wife is an excuse for him not to make an effort to do more than keep on keeping on. It is much easier to blame others for his misfortune than to take responsibility for his true nature.”
“And what will you attribute to me, my lord?” the shortest of the three demanded.
Aaran’s attention, as well as that of both Duncan and Lady Freya could be described as total surprise, for the man had a very feminine voice.
“You are the true conundrum of this adventure,” Duncan pronounced. “You are both brave and daring.”
“However, you still do not know me,” the masked man taunted them, but both Aaran and Duncan tilted their heads to listen for a clue.
Duncan replied first. “Initially, I thought you were the one who shot me, but we now know it was MacAlasdair. However, hewould not know how to handle the type of gun he carried that night without the expertise of another. I believe you were that person.”
Aaran noted the man adjusted his stance.
Duncan’s praise had found a place. “Though you recognized my brilliance, it will grieve me when I must kill you, my lord. I have dreamed of doing so for years.”
The click of the gun had Aaran diving in front of Duncan. The heat of the bullet as it made a path across his already injured trailing leg burned with the fires of hell, as he landed hard on his side.
Chapter Twenty-Two
