The Heiress Bride (38 page)

Serena said from the doorway, “I knew she'd be dead. Your mother's kelpie lover came for Arleth because she told Joan about your origins. Oh yes, the kelpie was your father, Colin, and now Arleth is dead, as she deserves to be.”

She turned and left the bedchamber, her pale nightgown floating around her as she walked. She paused and said over her shoulder, “I don't believe in that kelpie nonsense. I don't really know why I said it. But I'm not sorry she's dead. She was dangerous to you, Colin.”

“Oh God,” Alex said, and to her own astonishment, she crumpled where she stood.

“S
HE DIDN
'
T KILL
herself,” Colin said.

“But the stool beside her,” Sinjun said, “it was kicked over, as if she—” Her voice simply stopped. She swallowed, her head lowered. Colin hugged her tightly to him.

“I know,” he said quietly. “I know. If only we'd been just a few moments sooner, perhaps—”

Douglas rose and strode to the fireplace. He stood there, leaning against it, a cup of hastily prepared coffee in his hand. “No, she didn't kill herself. I'm positive of that. You see, I untied the knot that was at the base of the chandelier. She simply wouldn't have had the strength or the ability to fashion such a knot.”

“Shouldn't we have Ostle fetch the magistrate?” Sinjun asked her husband.

“I am the magistrate. I agree with Douglas. I have only one question for you, Joan. How did you know to wake up and go to her room?”

“Pearlin' Jane woke me. She told me to hurry to Aunt Arleth's room. We went immediately, Colin, there was no hesitation. I wonder why she waited so long. Perhaps she didn't realize Aunt Arleth wouldn't survive, or perhaps she didn't want her to live; she wanted her punished for what she did to Fiona and to you, Colin, and to me. How can we
possibly understand a ghost's motives?”

Douglas shoved away from the fireplace, his face red. “Dammit, Sinjun, enough of this bloody damned ghost talk! I won't have it, not here. At home I have to bear it because it's a damned tradition, but not. here!”

On and on it went. Sinjun was so tired, so shocked into her tiredness that she simply sat there, listening but not really hearing everyone as they voiced their opinions. And being Sherbrookes and wives of Sherbrookes, they all had opinions and all their opinions were contrary to one another's.

At one point Sophie shuddered and stepped quickly back, bumping into a chair. Ryder, frowning, immediately went to her and brought her into the circle of his arms. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against his wife's. “It's all right, Sophie. Tell me what's wrong, love.”

“The violence, Ryder, the horrible violence, the pain. It just brought it all back to me, all of Jamaica. I hate the memories, dear God how I hate them.”

“I know, sweetheart. I'm sorry about this, but you're with me and you will remain with me and no one will ever hurt you again, ever. Forget your damned uncle, forget Jamaica.” He rubbed her back, rocked her gently against him.

Douglas said, “Why don't you take Sophie to bed, Ryder. She's had quite enough. She looks as fatigued as the rest of us doubtless feel.”

Ryder gave his brother a nod.

Some five minutes later, at four o'clock in the morning, Colin said, “Douglas is right. Everyone is exhausted. Enough for tonight. We will speak of this again tomorrow.”

He held Sinjun close, his arms locked around her back, his face pressed against her temple.

“Who killed her, Colin?”

He felt her warm breath against his throat. “I don't know,” he said, “blessed hell, I don't know. Maybe she was an accomplice in Fiona's death, just maybe . . . I don't know. Jesus, what a night. Let's get some rest.”

The next morning there was surprisingly little conversation at the breakfast table. Colin had told Dulcie to keep Philip and Dahling with her as he wanted no horrific tales spun in front of their young faces.

Still, there wasn't much more to say.

Serena said nothing at all. She ate her porridge, chewed slowly, even nodded occasionally whilst she chewed, as if she were carrying on a private conversation with herself, which, Sinjun thought, she probably was. She would never understand Serena; she wondered if Serena understood herself.

As if at long last, Serena became aware that Sinjun was looking at her. She said, her voice as calm and serene as a warm starlit night, “A pity it wasn't you, Joan. Then Colin would have all your money and me. Yes, a pity. I like you, naturally, it's difficult not to. But it's still a pity.” With those words that made Sinjun's blood freeze in her veins, Serena merely smiled at everyone and left the Laird's Inbetween Room.

“She's frightening,” Sophie said, and shuddered.

“I think she's all talk,” Alex said. “And I think she speaks that way for effect. She loves to shock. Sinjun, pull yourself together. It was just words, nothing more.”.

Colin sad, “I will see that Serena returns to Edinburgh as soon as may be. In fact, it might be best if I sent Ostle with a message to Robert MacPherson. He could come for her himself. There's no reason to wait.”

Robert MacPherson did come to Vere Castle, and with him were half a dozen of his men, all armed to the teeth.

“You'll notice Alfie isn't among my men. I hanged him for killing Dingle.”

He dismounted, waved his men to do the same, and entered the castle, careful that the great doors remained open. “There is much improvement,” he said, then nodded to Sinjun. “You're quite the housekeeper, aren't you?”

“Oh yes,” she said, wondering why she hadn't shot him when she'd had the chance. She didn't trust him an inch, this pretty man with his evil heart.

“I will take Serena to Edinburgh now. I did promise you that I'd speak to my father, though I warn you, Colin, he's not as he should be in his mental parts.”

“He was all that he should be when I last saw him,” Colin said. “If you simply told me who it was who claimed I killed your sister, we would both save ourselves a lot of time.”

“Oh no,” Robert MacPherson said, casually flicking a speck of dust from his coat sleeve. “To tell you would lead to nothing. You would try to kill the person in a rage, and I would still be left with doubts. No, I will speak to my father. I will tell him about this person who accused you. I will listen to what he has to say. Ask no more, Colin.”

“I wouldn't kill your damnable informant!”

“If you didn't, then your bloodthirsty wife would.”

“I surely would,” Sinjun said. “He's right about that, Colin.”

Colin suddenly realized they were all standing in the entrance hall. He didn't want MacPherson in his home but he had come for Serena. He had to be somewhat civil, but that didn't mean taking
him into the drawing room and giving him a cup of tea. They would remain in the entrance hall. Colin said, to break the uncomfortable silence, “You know the wives, do you not?”

“Oh yes, bloody savages those two. Ladies,” Robert MacPherson added, and gave them each a deep bow. “And their husbands, I presume. I'm relieved that you both are here. These two charming females should be kept under lock and key.”

He turned back to Colin. “Now, your letter said you wanted me to remove Serena. May I ask why, at this particular moment in time?”

“Aunt Arleth died last night. Hung in her room.”

“Ah, I see. You lured me here to accuse me of murdering the old witch. Fortunate that I brought my men with me, isn't it?”

“Don't be a fool, Robbie. It was made to look like a suicide, but Douglas rightfully pointed out that Arleth wouldn't have had the strength to tie the rope knot so tightly to the chandelier. No, someone killed her, perhaps this informant of yours was her accomplice. Perhaps he feared she'd talk and did away with her.”

But Robert MacPherson just looked at him. He did move a bit closer to the open front doors, closer to his men on the steps outside, all of them at the ready.

“Dammit, Robbie, that means someone got into the castle and murdered her!”

“Perhaps she was strong enough with the bloody knot,” he said. “Arleth was more robust than she appeared.”

Colin gave it up. He fetched Serena. She looked at him as he walked beside her down the wide staircase as if he were her lover. She looked at him as if he were Romeo to her Juliet.

“I'm very relieved that she's leaving,” Sophie whispered to Sinjun. “She frightens me, be it all an act or not, it doesn't matter.”

“Me too,” Sinjun said.

“Sister,” Robert MacPherson said, nodded briefly at her, and motioned for his men to fetch the two valises from Colin.

“Hello, Robbie,” Serena said. She stood on her tiptoes to kiss her brother on his mouth. “You're more beautiful today than you were even six months ago. I pity your wife. She will have to compete with you for beauty. When we go to Edinburgh, you must promise not to escort me anywhere.”

He sucked in his breath, and for one horrible moment Sinjun was afraid that he would strike his sister. Then he smiled and said easily, “I will grow a beard.”

“I'm pleased you are able to,” Serena said. She turned to Colin, stroked her fingers over his cheeks, then rose onto her tiptoes and kissed him full on the mouth, just as she'd done her brother. “Good-bye, my love. A pity you prefer this one. A pity she is kind, but I am pleased that you married her because she was an heiress.”

Without another word, Serena walked past her brother out the front doors.

Colin simply nodded to Robert MacPherson. He walked beside him outside. The day was overcast and chilly. He watched Serena mount a mare her brother had brought for her. He watched one of Robbie's men fasten her valises to the back of his saddle. He watched them all mount, watched them ride down the long tree-lined drive of Vere Castle.

“You will come to me once you've spoken to your father,” Colin called after him.

“I will certainly do something,” Robert MacPherson yelled back over his shoulder.

“Actually,” Colin said to his wife as he turned back into the entrance hall, “I'm glad I married an heiress as well, particularly this heiress.”

Sinjun grinned up at him, though it was difficult. He was trying to lighten everyone's mood, but it was tough going.

Sophie rubbed her hands together. “Now,” she said, “we have a mystery to solve. Sinjun, I want to hear more about Pearlin' Jane. Why do you think she came to you and told you about Aunt Arleth?”

Douglas turned on his heel and left the castle. He said over his shoulder to Alex, who was standing there staring at him, “I'm going riding. I'll return when you're done chewing over this damnable ghost nonsense.”

“Poor Douglas,” Ryder said. “He's a man who must maintain his stand once he's taken it.”

“I know,” Alex said. “I can talk him around to just about anything, but not the Virgin Bride. Sophie's right. It's time to discuss this fully.”

Colin said, “It would be simple if the castle were to be locked up tightly every night, but it isn't. Anyone who's remotely familiar with the castle could get in and go anywhere he pleased.”

“That,” Sinjun said, “is a great pity. I did fancy Serena, blast her eyes.”

They talked and debated and argued until finally the children interrupted them, their faces pale because they'd heard of Aunt Arleth's death from the servants.

“Come here,” Colin said. He gathered both children to him and hugged them. “It will be all right. We'll figure out what happened. I'm smart. Your uncles and aunts are smart. Your stepmother even occasionally comes to proper conclusions, once she's been nudged onto the suitable path. Everything will be all right.”

He held them for a very long time. Then Dahling looked up at him and said, “Papa, let me go now. Sinjun needs me.”

Dahling fell asleep in Sinjun's lap. Philip took up a stand at her side, her protector, she thought, and smiled at him with all the love she felt.

Aunt Arleth's body was removed by her brother, Ian MacGregor, the following afternoon. If he was surprised or upset by the news that she'd been murdered in her own bedchamber, he hid it well. It became clear very quickly that he simply wanted to leave Vere Castle as soon as possible. He didn't wish to involve himself. It was that simple. He had a wife and seven children, after all, he told them all in a pious manner that made Sinjun want to slap him. He had no time to spend here. He had to return home. He would bury Arleth, yes he would, but he would let Colin—as was only proper since she was dispatched in his home—solve the mystery of her death. She'd always been odd, she had. Always wanted what her sister had. Aye, a pity it was, but life was many times a pity.

He said to Sinjun as he prepared to leave, “I trust you won't get yourself killed like poor Fiona did, although I suppose it's not all that important now that Colin has married you and has your money in his pockets.”

They watched him ride beside an open wagon that held Aunt Arleth in a casket covered with a black blanket.

“He's my uncle,” Colin said more to himself than to anyone else. “He's my bloody uncle and I haven't seen him since I was five years old. He's married to his fourth wife. He has many more than seven children. It's seven children from this, his fourth wife. One wife dies from too many births in too short a time, and he immediately weds another
and does the same thing. He's a paltry fellow.”

There was no disagreement to this pronouncement.

“You have something of the look of him, Colin,” Douglas said. “Odd that he is so very handsome and such a rotten man.”