My Heart's in the Highlands by Angeline Fortin (ebook reader screen TXT) 📕

there were no questions. Fist met hard flesh again and againuntil the man was moaning for mercy, but Ian did not relent untilthe Londoner slipped into unconsciousness.

Dragging him back to the marquis’s chambers,Ian bound his opponent hand and foot with the sash of his dressinggown. He rang for his servants and while he dressed, Iancontemplated his attacker and considered his options. He could beatthe man to an even bloodier pulp, of course. That might or mightnot produce the answers he needed if the fellow was telling thetruth. What else was there for him to do when all his precautionswere for naught?

Dickson arrived with Boyle at his side andIan laid out his plans for the removal of his attacker from Cuileanand for protection for Hero, all of which was followed by direwarnings against alerting Hero to the attempt.

Together the three men carried the assailantsilently down the stairs. Ian didn’t know yet who was behind theattacks, but what he had learned was that the mastermind behind allof this had moved past simple accidents.

It wasn’t injury he or she was after, butIan’s death.

Resolution filled him to be the one who nextturned the tables.

“What do you mean he isn’t here?” Hero askedirritably as Ian’s valet rocked on his heels and stared intently atthe chandelier hanging from the ceiling. “Where is he?”

“I cannot say, my lady.”

“Cannot say or will not say, Dickson?” sheasked, pinning him with a fierce glare.

“I cannot say, my lady,” he repeated, andHero loosed a very unladylike snort of disbelief.

“But he was here last night?” she persisted.“And left again this morning?”

Dickson frowned as he considered whether toanswer. “Yes,” he said slowly, as if weighing what the word mightreveal. “He was.”

“All night?”

The valet tilted his head from side to sidebut remained silent.

“You are of little assistance, Dickson.”

“Yes, my lady,” was all he said, but whenHero simply huffed and turned away, she could hear his sigh ofrelief.

What was going on, she wondered, smoothingher hands down the front of her morning gown as she walked away.The sun was beaming brightly through the east-facing windows of theLong Drawing Room, the beams spilling through the double doors andinto the upper hall at a sharp angle that indicated the early hour.Hero hadn’t even eaten breakfast and already Ian was gone againwithout a word to her.

Was he avoiding her? She couldn’t help butconsider the possibility. Late last night, she had snuck out of thecastle like a thief to meet Ian at the pagoda for his promisedrendezvous. Without a groom to be found in the stables, she hadundertaken the long walk and chilly night to gain nothing more thanthe company of an irritable owl who periodically protested herpresence with long hoots for her efforts.

Expectantly, she had waited at the rail ofthe terrace, waiting for her lover to arrive with her cloak thrownback over her shoulders to display the provocative gown she hadworn. Then the silence of the night had been broken by a voice, arustic regional brogue that she recognized as belonging to her headgroundskeeper, Docherty, as he yelled distorted orders to others inthe area.

Privacy lost, she had huddled within thecloak to protect her against the night’s chill that she had thoughtwould be warded off by Ian’s embrace and made the long trek back tothe castle. There would be no midnight rendezvous at the pagoda. Nolove made passionately in the moonlight. No chance to lie in thecircle of his strong embrace and glory in the blossoming youth oftheir love.

And now there was no sign of Ian thismorning, either.

Hero had spoken with Docherty that morning,trying to find out what had been amiss without betraying hermidnight excursion. A wolf, he had said, had been spotted on thegrounds. But he hadn’t met her eye and Hero hadn’t heard of a wolfat Cuilean in all her years there.

Between that evasion and Ian’s absence, Heroknew that something more was going on.

But what?

“Missing something, Hero?”

Hero looked up to see Daphne in the doorwayof the Blue Drawing Room with a sly smile on her face. Clearly shehad been eavesdropping on Hero’s conversation with Dickson. With agrimace, Hero continued around the hall to the head of the stairs,which was halfway between them. “No, Daphne, everything is as itshould be, though I do appreciate your ever tender concern.”

“Ayr has not returned to his chambers allnight and his valet is reluctant to tell you where he is, and youaren’t worried?” Daphne laughed and tossed her head, slanting amischievous glance her way. “Might be that I could tell you wherehe spent the night, if you asked nicely.”

Hero stiffened at the woman’s implication,her hands curling into fists, but she did not dignify thesuggestion with a response. That Daphne would imply that Ian hadspent the night in her rooms! It was preposterous, of course.Daphne only wanted to shake Hero’s confidence, but Daphne did notknow that the competition—if there had ever been one—was over. Ianhad asked Hero to marry him, not Daphne.

Releasing a sigh, Hero recalled herconcessions of the night before for Daphne, but it was difficult tobe charitable when she knew Daphne was being deliberatelyprovoking.

“But surely you would like to know …” Daphnepersisted, only to be interrupted.

“Ah, Daughter, there you are!” her fatherboomed, and Hero breathed a sigh of relief for the diversion. Shehad no desire to partake in yet another pointless verbal battlewith Daphne.

Beaumont was coming up the stairs by twosuntil he met her at the top. Hero was thankful to see that Simmshad managed to convince him to dress completely that morning, andhe looked quite noble in his red and black riding jacket. “Shall weride this morning, Daughter? I swear I’ve not been out inweeks.”

“We rode just yesterday, Papa,” Hero remindedsoftly, taking his arm with a gentle squeeze.

“We did?”

“We did, but I shall be happy to join youagain,” she assured him.

“You should be careful you don’t take anotherfall,” Daphne said spitefully, drawing the duke’s attention to her.“We wouldn’t want anyone else to get hurt now, would we?”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re a pretty girl butyou should smile more. You look very mean when you don’tsmile.”

Daphne’s eyes narrowed in