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He looked down at his hands and shifted his position, a low whimper of pain passing his lips as he did.
“I do not know what you are talking about,” he said. “I did not poison the Duke.”
“Kid, we ken ye have somethin’ tae dae with it,” Hollis urged. “Tell us now’n mebbe we can help ye.”
“I didn’t--”
“If ye daenae tell us, we cannae help ye, Marcus,” Fin said. “We daenae think ye did this on yer own. We think somebody put ye up tae it. Just tell us who it was. Let us help ye.”
He let out a long breath, and when Marcus looked up at him again, Fin didn’t think he had ever seen such a stark fear on a man’s face before. Tears ran down Marcus’ cheeks and eyes, though swollen badly, still held absolute terror in them.
“Tis okay lad,” Fin said. “We can help ye. Just tell us who put yet up tae this.”
He shook his head. “I cannot. I will not.”
Fin felt a sharp jolt inside of him that sent his heart and stomach spinning. It was the first acknowledgment that somebody had, in fact, put Marcus up to this. That he did slip the poison to the Duke. It was also an acknowledgment that he was coerced into doing so. Fin did not know how that would impact his eventual sentence or whether it would keep him from losing his head or not. He didn’t think so because at the end of the day, he had slipped the poison in the Duke’s wine - but it was at the orders of another. For whatever that was worth.
“If ye daenae, you’re goin’ tae be charged with attemptin’ tae kill the Duke,” Hollis said. “Ye know that’s a guaranteed trip tae th’ headsman.”
“So be it,” Marcus whispered. “At least I know my family will be safe.”
“Is that what they’re holdin’ over ye?” Fin asked. “They threatened yer family?”
His nod was barely perceptible, but Fin had seen it all the same. So, whoever wanted the Duke dead had threatened the lives of Marcus’ loved ones. He had to assume the same threat was made to somebody back in Westmarch. If nothing else, that piece of information would help narrow the list of suspects. But as long as they had Alastair keeping a close eye on Col and Gillian, Fin felt all right leaving it be until they returned.
“We can protect ye,” Fin said. “If ye tell us who it was--”
Marcus groaned miserably but shook his head anyway. “You cannot protect me and mine. I am not so foolish to think otherwise. Not from this man. He is ruthless in ways you cannot conceive of,” he said. “Now, please leave. I’m in terrible pain, and I just want to sleep.”
“Marcus, ye’re goin’ tae hang for your part in this,” Fin said. “You put the poison in the Duke’s cup. But if ye tell us--”
“I would rather die knowing my entire family is safe than live and have to worry about them being murdered because I spoke out,” he said softly.
“It daenae have tae--”
“I said go. Go now, please,” he replied, his voice quiet but firm. “Please leave me be and do not speak to me again.”
Fin pursed his lips and exchanged a look as Marcus curled up in the straw on the dirty floor of his cell. He groaned as he moved, his every movement excruciating to watch. Fin sighed heavily. They could have ended it all right here if only Marcus had been willing to talk and tell them who had ordered him to poison the Duke.
He got to his feet and looked down at Marcus once more, the guilt ravaging him as hard as the frustration. He would crack Marcus’ skull open and pull the answer out himself if he could. But he had seen the look in Marcus’ eye and knew he had meant what he said about dying for his family. And Fin knew that once a person got that dead-set determination and steely resolve baked firmly in their minds, there was no getting it out again.
“We’ll have him moved tae the physician’s chamber,” he said quietly to Hollis as they climbed the stairs and left the dark cells. “Maybe with a little proper care, he’ll be more willin’ tae talk.”
“Good luck with that,” Hollis quipped. “The lad’s as stubborn as a Scotsman.”
“Aye. I thought the same thing.”
