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One brow arched as he offered, “Been a bounty hunter?”
She nodded and drew her cloak closer. “Aye.”
“Not always. I had my share of worthless jobs. Not as profitable or satisfying.”
A chill rippled across Ivy’s body at his cold choice of words. It bothered her to realize that Sam would find satisfaction in watching her hang. She watched as he used a knife from his boot to slice open the dead carcass he had killed for their meal. He did it without pause. “How many men have ye killed?”
He glanced her way momentarily. “More than I should have.”
Ivy frowned and shivered some more. As she watched him slice open the animal and peel back its skin, she quietly asked, “And women?”
This made him pause. “Less than I should have.”
Was she the one meant to rectify that ratio? “Why is that?”
She didn’t think he was going to answer. He cut up the carcass and impaled individual pieces of raw meat onto some twigs he had gathered before laying them over the fire. Then he turned and sat opposite her on the other side of the fire pit.
“I made the mistake of believing a woman’s lies. It cost the life
of an innocent man. And his family.” The last part he added quietly, but more savagely. “I’m not about to make the same mistake again.”
His eyes bore across at Ivy and she knew he was speaking directly of her. For some reason, she hated the fact he compared her to this other woman. “I haven’t lied to ye, Mr. Michalski.”
“No?” He sat back against a tree bark. “How many men have you killed, Ms. McGregor?”
She thought about his question. An image from her past came to mind. The faces of the Earl of Wittfield and his despicable son haunted her thoughts. And always would. Vile filled her gut.
Glancing over at Sam, she offered back his own choice of words. “Less than I should’ve.”
He actually smirked, though his voice sounded far from humorous. “Was it jealousy then?”
“What?”
“The reason why you beat Philip Hendrickson to the point his face had literally collapsed? Were you jealous? That’s the motive the prosecutors are using to pin you with his murder. According to them, you allegedly discovered Mr. Hendrickson had taken a new lover and lashed out in a fit of jealousy.”
Ivy flinched at Sam’s vulgar description of Phillip Hendrickson’s death. Staring at him, she weighed her next words before finally saying. “Jealousy is a poisonous emotion, Mr. Michalski.”
“With deadly consequences?”
Ivy met his fixed stare across the flames. His eyes held such a coldness to them. A heaviness passed over Ivy’s heart. Dropping her gaze, she muttered, “I suppose.”
His jaw tightened and the vein in his temple flexed as he clenched his jaw before asking, “Were you his lover?”
Was she imagining the sharpness to his voice? Ivy frowned and thought of Philip Hendrickson. As always, disgust filled her stomach. Not even his death could lessen her revulsion.
Ivy shook her head. “No.”
Knowing she was the recipient of so much hatred from the man across the fire, she could not bring herself to meet his gaze again. Instead, she focused on her hands and the marks on her wrists from the rope.
“So, if you did not kill him out of jealousy and you did not kill him out of self-defense,” Sam asked, his voice sounding as if he were controlling some kind of emotion. “Why did you kill him?”
She looked over at him. So much rage loomed just beneath the surface. She didn’t know why he felt so strongly about this murder. A part of her wondered if perhaps he knew Philip personally. Had made it his own mission to come out and track down his killer.
All this was a mystery to Ivy. The only thing she knew for certain was with all that anger and rage, it didn’t matter what she said. Sam didn’t want to hear her side of the story.
* * *
Getting to sleep was difficult that night. Sam tossed and turned several times. Something was troubling him. No matter how much he hated to admit it, he knew their discussion was toying with his conscience. She refused to impart her reasons for murdering Philip Hendrickson. The only clue she gave was that jealousy had indeed been a factor in his death. Sam just wasn’t sure how.
