Chapter Ten
Having near paced a hole through the worn floorboards, Henry Crawford paused at the second-floor solar window in Wingate Castle, gazing out at the leaden clouds spitting rain against the glass. Over the high stone wall, he could see some of the gray granite buildings of Aberdeen a mile away.
Mayhap he should be satisfied in owning this ancient castle and many others… but he wasn't. Wingate was in bad need of repairs, but he had little funds until he sold something substantial.
He'd inherited his title, the Earl of Dalacroy, only last year when his father had been daft enough to get himself killed. Since then, Henry had stayed busy regaining the properties and wealth his philandering father had given away to his many mistresses. Henry had seen the books and knew his father had inherited a massive fortune from Henry's grandfather. But his da had squandered nearly all of it, dispensing with it thither and yon to all his whores.
Now, 'twas time to regain ownership of his grandmother's dower property, Darby Hall, which his father had given as an extravagant gift to Lady Grey.
Henry's men had faced few problems getting into the manor house and taking whatever valuables they could carry. His father had expensive taste in jewelry and always bought his jezebels much gold, diamonds and colorful jewels. Not to mention the silverware.
Henry grinned, recalling how he'd also pinched Lady Grey's guards, promising them twice the pay. They had been only too happy to leave her employment and even help Henry's men gain entrance. Henry would pay his new guards as he'd promised for a few days or weeks… however long it took to send her to the workhouse.
He'd sent two of his guards with MacGuire, the young messenger from Darby, to slip into the stables and do what damage they could to her coach. He didn't want her to die… yet. But he did want her to realize she had few options except to sell him what he wanted… at an exceptional price. He grinned, imagining the crestfallen look on the harlot's face when she realized she had nothing left and no one to help her.
A few years ago, his father had also gained possession of some storefronts and tenements in Aberdeen, as well as a small estate and ancient castle about five miles outside of town. Baron Grey had been heavily in debt to Henry's father. Now, those were back in the hands of Lady Grey. He would soon have both, along with the tenements, then he would sell them to the highest bidder. Wingate was the only property he need retain in the area.
He'd managed to take what he wanted from a few of his father's former mistresses already, in other parts of the country, and the hussies were out on the streets. Early on, he'd learned clever ways to sidestep the laws. He could simply invest a small percentage of his money in hiring the local magistrates and other officials to assist him. Even some of the penniless nobles had proven useful at times. They were only too glad to ingratiate themselves to him.
A knock sounded at the solid oak door.
He turned. "Enter."
A male servant, Simon, strode in carrying one of his newly acquired, polished silver trays with a missive on it. He bowed. "M'laird, the messenger lad wanted to deliver this to you himself, but I told him that would be unacceptable."
"Very good." Henry snatched the missive off the tray and the servant left. After breaking the red wax seal, he unfolded the parchment. 'Twas from Magistrate Paul MacTarril. His gaze shifted back to the top and he began reading.
Lord Dalacroy:
Lady Grey has obtained the help of the Earl of Stornmor, a ruthless Highlander named Cyrus MacKenzie, Chief of the MacKenzies. They have just quit my office after inquiring about the jewels. I revealed naught and I'll assist you in any way I can. Your loyal servant.
"As well you should," Henry muttered, still resenting the goodly sum he'd paid the man.
So, she was already the mistress of another earl? She did fast work in seducing powerful, wealthy men. This would make his job more difficult. He had not anticipated locking horns with one of his peers.
"Damn her!" He wouldn't let anyone stop him in his quest, not even a Highland earl. Henry knew how to be just as ruthless as any of the barbarians from the north. All he had to do was eliminate the bastard.
∞∞∞
As they rode through the gates of Darby Hall, Cyrus eyed Elspeth. Her head was completely covered in the hood of her dark green cloak, understandable in this misty rain. But he had a feeling she was also trying to hide. What had MacTarril meant when he'd said, "Lady Grey, you have found yourself another wealthy earl, have you?"
Elspeth's husband had been a baron.
Cyrus's gut tensed. He had a suspicion the earl in question had something to do with the secrets shadowing Elspeth's eyes.
He had to find out which wealthy earl and what her connection to him was. That could be the key to the theft. As well, it could be the key to destroying Cyrus's fascination with her.
At the moment, avoiding her gaze was easy, for she kept hers downcast while he helped her dismount. "Could I speak to you in your study?" He kept his voice low.
"Of course." Her posture erect and regal, she sidestepped him, proceeded up the stone steps and disappeared into the manor house.
'Slud, he hated making her cross, but clearly she was withholding important information from him. He couldn't keep her safe and find the culprit if he didn't know her whole story.
Once inside, he noticed she busied herself with discussing something with the housekeeper on the opposite side of the hall. Obviously, she didn't want to talk to him about what Paul MacTarril had said.
Sipping from a tankard of ale, Fraser approached him. "What did you find out?"
"Naught except that Paul MacTarril is the magistrate and he is witless." Annoyance drove through Cyrus anew.
