Hugh blanched, fingers closing, white-knuckled, on the edge of his desk. "The smuggler?"
"He's been plying his trade up and down the coast."
"I know what he's been doing!" Hugh stared at Ciaran, stricken. "Redmayne believes that this man is Silver Hand?"
Panic fluttered in Fallon's throat. It wasn't too late for Hugh to fling Ciaran out the door. Charity was one thing, but sheltering the rogue Silver Hand would be suicidal. And Hugh had proved time and again he'd surrender anything to protect Misthaven land. "You know Redmayne and his kind, Hugh," she pleaded. "You've seen what they're capable of. With all the furor over bringing this Silver Hand to justice, they won't be overly cautious about who they hang. And who better than a stranger who has lost his memory? No one in Glenceo knows him. No one would care if he lived or died. I had to find a way to keep Redmayne from arresting Ciaran and flinging him in jail. So I pretended that he was my betrothed."
"Pretended?"
"That he was my secret lover. That we were going to elope because we feared your disapproval. It was the only logical explanation I could think of to explain why no one had ever seen Ciaran before. But Redmayne—it was as if he knew it was a lie. He kept twisting everything I said around until I was desperate. I had to find some way to calm his suspicions." She swallowed hard. "I claimed that I was pregnant."
"But you... you—"
"There is no babe," Ciaran said.
Relief washed over Hugh's face, draining him so completely he sagged down in his chair. "No child? You were pretending to be engaged. There is no child." Hope brightened his eyes. "Does that mean that the marriage is a sham as well? It was damned clever of you to—"
"No. The marriage is real. Redmayne trapped us into it. I think he suspected Fallon was lying. He put her to the test, thinking she would break. Once we'd started the deception, there was no way to escape the trap he'd laid." Ciaran spun out the story, from beginning to end. "So now you know the whole of it. There is no way to be certain who I am. My memory is gone. You should know that there's a good chance I might be the man they're seeking." Ciaran's lips twisted in an ironic smile. "Unless you're like your sister, and believe in this magic spell, this Ciaran of the Mist story."
Hugh rose, crossing to where a cut-glass decanter stood on a marble-topped table. Withdrawing the stopper with an unsteady hand, he poured himself a generous measure of Madeira and drained the glass in one gulp. "Fallon, this is unbelievable. You're married to a man you met one day ago. You don't even know who he is. Hell,hedoesn't even know who he is!"
"The last thing I wish to do is put you and your sister in further danger." Ciaran interjected. "You've both risked too much already on my behalf. You'll be wanting me to leave, and I don't blame you."
"No!" Fallon protested. "Hugh, please. For once, drag your nose out of your infernal accounts and have a little courage! You can't just let him go charging off this way."
"Fallon, your brother is only trying to protect you. He's responsible for everyone on this whole estate. And he can't be expected to risk everything for a man who might be a criminal. A man he doesn't even know. Just let me leave as I should have done the first moment I saw you."
Fallon thought his leaving would be like tearing out a piece of her heart. "You can't leave! Hugh, stop him!" She had no hope that her brother would. Cautious Hugh would be all too eager to show him the door. She braced herself for a battle of wills, but Hugh turned to Ciaran, his voice low.
"No. Fallon's right. I can't let you risk leaving Misthaven."
Ciaran gaped, incredulous. "Are you as mad as your sister? Do you have any idea of the danger you could be in? If I am Silver Hand, you could lose everything! You could hang!"
Hugh yanked at his neckcloth, as if he could feel the rough kiss of the noose. "We don't know that you are this smuggler. But even if we did, it wouldn't change my decision. What if you tried to leave and Redmayne had his men watching the house? They'd arrest you, and Fallon would be trapped by her lies—condemned for aiding a fugitive from the law! No. No matter how grim things seem, better to follow through on this charade you've begun for now. We'll work to discover who you are. Then, once we get everything settled and the danger is past, we can have the marriage annulled."
"Hugh, I don't necessarily think we should—annul the marriage, I mean." Fallon protested, astonished by the depth of panic she felt at the thought of the marriage being dissolved. How could something that had seemed such a calamity become so precious in such a short time?
Hugh's brow furrowed beneath the lock of sandy hair that tumbled across it. "There is no babe. As long as the union is never consummated, this can still all be untangled in the end. But for your own safety, the servants—and everyone else in the county—will have to believe that you're wed. That means adjoining bedrooms." A slight flush buffed Hugh's cheekbones. "And you will have to be seen together, as a couple, at local assemblies."
"But what if someone recognizes me as this... this Silver Hand?" Ciaran demanded. "You could be in grave danger."
Hugh's jaw hardened, the masculine equivalent of Fallon's own stubborn expression. "That's a chance I'm willing to take."
"Why? Why would you do this for me?"
"You heard my sister. Our family is notorious for bending with the winds to hold on to our lands, no matter what the cost. Perhaps it's time I had a little courage."
"You have nothing to prove to me. To anyone," Ciaran said.
Hugh turned away. "You ask why I would help you. What would you say if I told you that, in a way, I envy you, Mr. MacDonough?" Hugh paced to the window, shoulders bowed with unutterable weariness as he stared out across the fields of green. "There are times it would be a relief to lose my own memory," Hugh said softly. "I've seen enough innocent people suffer to last me a lifetime."
Chapter 9
Fallon grimaced, raking her mother's silver-backed brush through her hair. As long as she could remember, the act had comforted her, as if it drew her mother closer. But she'd nearly brushed her scalp raw, and tonight it only coiled the tension, the restlessness inside her, tighter still.
Her wedding night. She'd never expected to have one, but if she had imagined one, it would never have resembled the trial she'd been through tonight. She had stood with a smile plastered on her face while Hugh announced the "happy tidings" to the household staff.
The stunned servants had offered uneasy congratulations. The whispers and blushes and confused glances told Fallon that rumors about her supposed pregnancy had already reached the house. And theirs was a mild reaction indeed in comparison to the ordeal that would await her when news of her hasty and most unusual marriage reached the neighboring gentry.
