Page 87 of When the Laird Conquers

She racked her brain, trying to place the name. It was not a title she was familiar with, and she had studied the peerage of England in great depth.

“I just wanted to wish you hearty congratulations on your nuptials,” he continued, oblivious to her unease. “You must be overjoyed, for this is quite the most beautiful castle. The grounds are rather lovely too, though I confess I have not seen much of them. I arrived as the sun was setting.”

“I apologize, Lord Samson, but who are you exactly?” she pressed. “Where did we meet? Where is your family seat?”

“Pembury House, my Lady,” he replied.

Her blood ran cold.

“Then you know the Duke of Pembury?” Her eyes narrowed.

You know Edwin.

“His brother. Well, his half-brother. My father’s second marriage,” he explained, somewhat bashfully. “I had hoped to reach you sooner, but I confess, I found myself lost in the Highlands for longer than I care to admit.”

She realized her mistake at that moment: Samson was not the man’s title, but his first name.

Fear flared in her chest. “And why would you hope to reach me?” she asked, a bite in her voice. “Has your brother sent you here in his stead?”

“Heavens, no.” Samson pulled a face. “Quite the opposite. I meant to reach you before him, and since I have seen no sign of him, I am hopeful that I have managed it. Perhaps he has lost his way in the Highlands too. In truth, it was a stroke of luck that I learned about this lovely gathering when I did.”

She didn’t trust a word coming out of his mouth, for she neither believed in luck nor coincidence. There was no way that Samson was here of his own volition, for a reason entirely unrelated to his older brother’s schemes.

“Apologies, I have jumped ahead of myself again,” Samson said, grimacing. “I was at Pembury when news came that you had gone to Scotland with my niece. I overheard my brother talking to some men about kidnapping the baby, and I wanted to come here to warn you. Indeed, I left the very next day, and should have been ahead of those kidnappers. But then, as I said, I lost my way.”

“Those men are dead,” Agnes said, her arms crossed, ready to run if she had to. “They did attempt to kidnap my niece but were stopped. I would take that as a warning, if I were you.”

The young man looked strangely crestfallen, so either he was an exemplary thespian, or he was sad to hear that his fellow conspirators were dead.

“You don’t trust me,” he said, nodding. “That is understandable. I am a stranger to you, even though we are family. But I assure you, I mean no harm. I have known my brother to do some terrible things, and just before he died, my father charged me with ensuring that Edwin did nothing foolish. I have not always been successful, but I knew I could help prevent him from stealing my niece from you.”

“I have not always been successful…”

Was he referring to Christine? Agnes hoped not, or he would receive a punch to the face.

She studied him more intently. There was no deceit in his expression; his manner was youthfully earnest. For reasons she could not explain, she wanted to believe that he was telling the truth.

“Ah, yes! I have proof!” he added suddenly, a grin spreading across his face. “I brought a man with me. He helped me find my way here. He can tell you that I was indeed lost. He is in the stables. And there is a letter in my saddlebag, a letter that I wrote while I was lost and hoped to send to you if I could not find my way here.”

She eyed him warily, her suspicions still jittering in her veins.

“I am not going to the stables with you,” she said coldly.

He laughed awkwardly. “No, of course not. I was not suggesting that you should.” He paused. “Let us go to the entrance. You can wait there, surrounded by your husband’s soldiers. I will bring the man to you.”

It was a fair compromise, and she knew she would feel safe among Gordon’s men. They were everywhere outside, patrolling constantly. She had watched them from her window throughout the day, pointing them out to amuse Lizzy.

“Very well,” she relented.

After all, it would have been unfair of her to judge this young man if it turned out that he had come here to try and warn her. Belated and useless, true, but it would be nice to have another ally against Edwin. Someone closer to him who could keep an eye on him, and perhaps inform her if he planned to kidnap Lizzy again.

Yes, that might actually be very useful.

For she would not be able to learn of Edwin’s whereabouts up here in the Highlands. An informant would be exceptionally useful.

So, with a faint flicker of possibility in her chest, she followed Samson out of the Great Hall. As she trailed him closely, she opened her mouth to ask him if he knew where Edwin was when he suddenly whirled around and clamped a cloth over her mouth and nose.

Her eyes widened in panic, her hands flailing to try and shove him away as a stinging, sweet scent invaded her nostrils. A somewhat familiar smell, for she remembered the physician using it in the weeks before her mother died to ease her suffering.