Page 90 of When the Laird Conquers

She had meant it indirectly, considering she had never been able to prove anything, but the harsh laugh that tore from Edwin’s throat made her blood freeze in her veins.

“I told you, Agnes, I will not allow anything to ruin my life,” he said with a wink. “If I must get rid of every last one of you to keep my secrets, then I will.”

“You… killed her?” Agnes’s heart cracked. “You really did it, didn’t you? I knew it. All this time, I knew it. I could never shake the feeling. My sister was fine before you went into her room, and hours after you left, she was gone.”

Edwin smiled. “I did her a kindness, Agnes. She would never have been allowed back into society, and she thrived on company. She would have been miserable. I put her out of her misery.”

Just then, Samson walked into view, an anxious expression on his face. “There is a rider, Brother.”

Edwin’s demeanor changed in an instant. “Thank you, Samson. I know this has all been so hard for you, but we will soon have the situation remedied. Soon, my daughter will no longer be in the company of thieves and scoundrels. She will be where she should be.”

“What if he brings an army?” Samson asked, fidgeting nervously. “Really, I wish there was a more civilized way to do this.”

“To do what?” Agnes hissed, glaring at him.

Samson tutted. “Why, to retrieve what was stolen, of course. I am sure you are perfectly pleasant, Lady Agnes, but you have no right to take a child from their father. I am sorry that I lied and deceived you, but I had no choice. A child should be raised by a parent, not an aunt.”

“And if that parent killed the child’s mother and wants to do the same thing to his daughter?” Agnes shot back as she struggled to her feet, still woozy from the ether. “Your brother doesn’t want to be a father to Lizzy. He wants to get rid of her!”

Samson shook his head. “No. No, Lady Agnes, you are quite wrong. My brother has spoken of nothing but restoring his daughter to her rightful place, growing up as the daughter of a duke at Pembury House.”

“Then he has lied to you,” Agnes rasped. “If anyone were to find out about his daughter, he would lose everything. He would lose his chance to wed to a wealthy woman.”

“Lady Portia?” Samson frowned. “No, that is not true. My brother has told me that Lady Portia is eager to raise Elizabeth.”

“Your brother lies as easily as he breathes. There isn’t an honest thing that comes out of his mouth,” Agnes scoffed, her eyes brimming with tears.

She had been so certain that something was wrong when Christine died, but no one had believed her. She had been told it was just her grief and that no one was to blame. But there he was, standing there with a smile on his face—her sister’s murderer. A real monster, hiding behind fake charm and a silver tongue.

“I would wager that Lady Portia knows nothing about my niece,” she added. “And never will, because your brother plans to kill Lizzy too. Isn’t that right, Edwin?”

Edwin rolled his eyes. “I think everyone needs to calm down. I am sorry that you have lost your fight, Lady Agnes, but really, you brought it upon yourself. This could have been so simple if you had just handed over the child when I asked, but you are as stubborn as your sister.”

Nothing he said confirmed or denied his crimes, and Samson seemed content with his reply, still oblivious to the fact that his brother was a wicked beast.

The thud of hoofbeats drew her attention across the shadowed meadow, a dark shape growing larger and larger.

Let it be Gordon. Oh please, let it be Gordon.

Her heart soared as the horse reared to a halt and she saw her husband sitting there, with a look of pure fury on his face. A terrifying sight, in truth, though not for her. Right now, she needed his anger.

“Where is the baby?” Edwin barked, his eyes narrowing.

“Safe, where she belongs,” Gordon growled as he leaped down from his horse. “If ye thought I’d bring her to her murderer, ye must have naught but air between yer ears.”

Samson raised a shaky hand. “With respect, my Lord, my brother has no intention of harming the child. He wishes to raise her, which Lady Agnes gave him no opportunity to do. As such, we had no choice but to come here and take her, to return her to our family.”

“Is that what he told ye?” Gordon chuckled darkly. “If ye believe that, lad, then ye’re as brainless as he is.”

“He killed Christine,” Agnes choked out, her tears spilling over. “He admitted it. He killed her, Gordon.”

Gordon’s eyes flashed with fresh violence. “And they call me mad,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Ye daenae kill because somethin’ is inconvenient, Duke. Ye only kill when someone has wronged ye, and right now, ye’ll be lucky to leave here alive.”

“My brother did not kill anyone,” Samson insisted. “His… paramour died. It was very tragic, but he cannot be blamed for it.”

Gordon stalked forward, and Edwin took a half step back, his demeanor less confident than it had been a moment ago. Perhaps he had not realized just how intimidating Gordon could be.

“Tell yer braither the truth, eh?” Gordon said.