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“Nobody, M’Laird,” she murmured. “But… I think me sister has done somethin’ awful.”
It took every ounce of willpower that Felix possessed to try and calm himself, for it was not fair to scold the girl. Especially if she had information about Edwina’s whereabouts. The last thing he needed to do was spook the only potential informant that they might have.
“What do ye fear she’s done, Lass?” Meredith took over, in a gentle, reassuring tone.
The servant cleared her throat. “There was a man at the weddin’, and she took a fancy to him. She kept servin’ him all the finest wine, never lettin’ his cup run dry. I think she hoped he might… he might—” she trailed off, her cheeks turning purple.
“Just tell us the next part,” Meredith said, with a smile.
“Well, she came to our room last night, and she told me that he’d paid her a hefty sum of coin. I asked what she’d had to do in return, bracin’ for the worst, but… she told me that all she had to do was trick someone,” the girl explained slowly. “I asked what she meant, but me sister wouldnae say. Said she’d tell me afterward. Then, early this mornin’, I heard her get up and slip out of the room.”
Felix nodded. “And then?”
“I wish I’d followed her, M’Laird, but I dinnae. I was too weary,” the girl continued, her voice strained. “Me sister returned about an hour later, in tears. She told meshe’dbeen tricked, and that the man she met hadnae parted with any coin. She wouldnae say anythin’ else and went back to bed, but I’ve just been to raise her from her sleep, and she’s nae there. All I found was a note.”
The girl took the piece of paper out of her apron pocket and handed it to Felix, who received it with trembling fingertips. Not for the first time, he was glad that he had insisted on all of his servants learning at least the fundamentals of reading and writing, though there were often complaints about it.
Unfolding the note, Felix’s stomach lurched as he read the short message:I’ve run away, Charlotte. I’ve got no choice, so don’t try to find me. Don’t tell a soul, but I think I’ve just got the Lady of Moore killed.
“Did yer sister say who the man was?” Felix wheezed, feeling dizzy with panic.
The servant shook her head. “Nay, but I saw him.”
“Can ye describe him?”
The girl hesitated. “Tall, fair hair, pleasant enough to look at. I cannae really remember anythin’ else.” Her eyes widened and her finger jabbed at her chest. “Och, he had a brooch here—a stag’s head with three silver arrows beneath it. I remember because of how much it resembled the one that ye wear.”
“Ye daenae say,” Kenney murmured, rubbing his chin with his thumb and forefinger. A dark look washed over his face.
“What?” Felix pressed, wishing he had not tried to choke the wretch. Clearly, Kenney saw something in the servant’s description that Felix did not, and now Kenney had no obligation to say a word if he did not want to.
Kenney smirked in Felix’s direction. “I’m fair certain that I ken who the man is, and ye seem very eager to find out. Are ye worried that yer wife has fled with him, eh? I wouldnae be surprised if she has.”
“Daenae mock me, Lord Beckingdale,” Felix said, doing his best to be civil. “If ye ken who this man is, ye must tell me.” Reluctantly, he shoved the note into the bastard’s hand, letting him read for himself what fate might befall his cousin if he did not help.
Kenney’s eyes flickered from left to right, but none of the words seemed to alter his expression of indifference. “I ken plenty of men who would deem themselves fortunate, becomin’ a widower so soon after becomin’ a husband. If ye’ve a lover, Laird Moore, now ye can make her yer bride.”
Ryder lunged to grab Felix’s wrist as Felix drew his arm back, ready to drive a punch of pure rage into Kenney’s smug little face. To be proud and conceited was one thing; to taunt a man who was suffering was quite another, regardless of their past conflict.
“I ken who it is, Felix,” Melissa interjected, putting herself between her brother and Kenney. “I think we all ken who it is, if ye really think hard enough.”
Overwhelmed with anger and pain, hearing the words in the servant girl’s note repeating over and over in his head, Felix could not even begin to think of anything but Edwina’s fate. She was out there somewhere, alone and likely terrified. That was, if she was not already dead.
After all, that note had been painfully clear:I think I’ve just got the Lady of Moore killed.For Felix, there was barely a sliver of hope to cling onto, and every passing minute made his grip more slippery.
CHAPTER29
“Why are ye doin’this?” Edwina gasped, her throat hoarse from the scream that she had unleashed. “Why ye, of all people? Why would ye betray Laird Moore like this?”
Her captor scowled. “Ye think I care a jot for that weasel?”
“Then, why would ye betraymelike this?” She hoped that if she kept him talking, he might not tie the gag around her mouth again. She had felt certain he would after she screamed, but all he had done was clamp his hand over her mouth until she nearly choked on the sound. Then, he had released his grip and given her some water to drink, as if nothing was amiss.
He sighed. “That should be obvious, Edwina, nor do I consider it a betrayal when I loved ye first. I’ve loved ye since we were bairns. I suppose I always thought that we’d end up marryin’, but… I got to ye too late.” He laughed tightly. “I even thought about haltin’ the weddin’, but when I saw ye in that dress, lookin’ so beautiful, I couldnae speak. My throat had seized.”
“We’re like family, Victor,” she urged. “I think of ye like a brother. If I ever made ye feel that there was somethin’ else between us, I’m sorry. I dinnae mean to, but the point remains—I’ve never thought of ye as more than that.”
Victor’s eyelids twitched. “That’s because yer mind has been poisoned by that viper who forced ye to marry him. Ye’ll come to remember that ye love me, and though we might have to wait until Laird Moore is dead before we can marry, ye can rest assured that I’m a patient man. I’ve waited this long for ye, after all.”
