Amanda Scott (37 page)

“The Bill of Suspension?”

She nodded.

Repressing a stir of frustrated amusement, he said, “Sweetheart, be reasonable. By the time I learned that James had even
got
the sist, you were on your way to Glen Drumin and Duncan was tracking you.”

“Oh.” She continued to nibble her lower lip. “That’s true.”

“Aye, and even if it were not, do you think he would have revealed his strategy to me, or expected me to advise him against Glenure? Recall that the Highlands have been humming with rumors of new rebellion, rumors that James certainly knew about, even if he was not party to whatever action was brewing.”

“He wouldn’t be!”

“Well, your cousin’s recruiting activities seemed to confirm those rumors,” he pointed out. “His efforts also made it more difficult for Glenure to prove to some very suspicious men in London that he had not been favoring Highlanders.”

“Your cousin makes as much mischief as mine does,” Diana said. “I don’t mean Gentle Ian, either.”

“Duncan has been much too busy, I agree,” Rory said. “For that matter, I have seen a great deal since my arrival, lass, but no hint of a new rebellion brewing. I’m as convinced as I can be that there is none.”

“If there is, sir, I give you my word, I know nothing about it. I know less about Allan’s activities than you know of Duncan’s, however. I wish, by the way, that you would step on Duncan again. He annoys me.”

He smiled. “Tempting though that is, I think I must resist. My uncle is not only grieved by Colin’s death but he is consumed with indignation, as well. For me to attack his son would be cruel. I am going to need their help soon, in any case.”

“To find the murderer?”

Her voice sounded small, uncertain, and he wanted to reassure her, but some of his earlier qualms stirred again. He said, “I shall probably be asked to assist in that task, but I promise I’ll be as fair as I can. Will you tell me what you know?”

She shook her head. “I have learned how easily men can twist words, and I’ll not help anyone conjure a reason to hang Neil or Allan, or any of our neighbors.”

“I won’t conjure reasons, lass, but neither will I allow Colin’s murderer to go free if I can prevent it. I’d best warn you that I do have the authority to order you to submit to a precognition.”

“What’s that?”

Solemnly he said, “It is a preliminary examination to determine if there are any grounds for a prosecution.”

“You would do that to me?”

“You may leave me no choice,” he said. “Not to mince matters, sweetheart, you landed yourself in this pickle the day you waved your pistol at Duncan.”

“Well, you can ask your questions. You cannot force me to answer them.”

“I hope you won’t put me to that test.”

She looked away, refusing to meet his gaze. “I’m going back inside.”

Touching her arm, he said, “Wait. You accused me a moment ago of just pretending to care about you. It is no pretense, Diana, but if you force my hand, you will lose. I cannot step aside now or keep my knowledge of things you’ve done in the past from affecting my judgment. You’d be wiser to be frank with me.”

“I can’t jeopardize my family,” she said stubbornly. “In the end you’ll side with the Campbells against us, and I will side with Macleans. It is sad, sir, but true.”

He could not deny it. He was as certain as he could be that once Argyll learned of Glenure’s murder, the duke would order him to remain in Appin to oversee the investigation. If that happened, he would have to put his personal feelings aside and let the law take its course.

Diana waited, hoping Rory would deny that he could take sides against her or her family, but he just looked up at the sky as if he hoped to find answers in the stars. After a long moment’s silence, she turned back toward the house, only to experience a surge of disappointment when he did not stop her. Not until she neared the front door did she hear the crunch of his footsteps behind her.

She understood that he had not meant to deceive her, that they had both simply assumed things they perhaps should not have assumed. But now events had taken over, igniting new hostility between their clans and stifling the fragile intimacy they had built. She wanted to confide in him. More than that, she wanted to ask for his help, to tell him she was frightened. But she could not. They seemed to stand on opposite sides of an ever-widening abyss.

Inside the house, she saw at once that the atmosphere had changed. Duncan broke off at their entrance in the midst of what appeared to have been a diatribe, and Lady Maclean was clearly having difficulty keeping her temper.

Glowering at Rory, Duncan said, “I’ve just been telling my father that if you don’t apply for the warrants, I will.”

“Warrants for whom?” Rory asked mildly.

“Don’t be daft. We need warrants to arrest Allan Breck, Sir Neil Maclean, Mistress Silence there, her ladyship, and perhaps Mistress Mary as well. If they were not all involved in Colin’s murder, the sheriff and the lord advocate can sort it out soon enough. If they were, we’ll have them safely in a cell at Fort William when we want them.”

“You’re leaping over the hedge before you come to the stile, as usual,” Rory said. “Don’t you think it would be wise to have some evidence against them before you demand their arrests?”

Diana held her breath, aware that Duncan was watching her. As she had expected, he said, “Ask Mistress Silence there where she was at half past five when Donald Kennedy saw a woman in a red dress on the hillside above the murder site.”

Rory looked at her. “Well, lass, did you have aught to do with the murder?”

Grateful that he had not asked what she was doing there, she suppressed a surge of resentment that he had assumed Duncan was right in accusing her, and managed to meet his stern gaze. “I did not,” she said flatly.

Clearly bent on doing more mischief, Duncan said, “You know as well as I do that she often carries a pistol.”

“And you know as well as I do,” Rory retorted in the same tone, “that whoever shot Glenure shot him with a larger weapon. Or are you going to try to convince a court that Mistress Diana hid such a weapon beneath her skirt?”

“We ought at least to search her,” Duncan snarled.

“Not without more evidence than you have provided, we won’t. Nor will we arrest her ladyship. As for accusing Mistress Mary, you must be daft. Not to mince words, you don’t have a prick’s worth of proof against any of these women.”

Balcardane growled, “You turning against your own, nephew? Our Colin laid down his life while carrying out orders of a government that dared suspect him of treachery. I should think you would want to act on every least hint of complicity.”

“Surely, sir, you don’t want innocent people arrested.”

Diana was not so sure of that. Rarely, in her experience, did the Campbells consider justice before they acted. Rory was unusual in that he seemed able to see both sides of an issue. With a flash of annoying insight she realized that such men were unusual among the Macleans, as well. Fixing her attention on Balcardane, she wondered if he would allow Rory to call the tune.

Duncan said curtly, “We must search this house, at least.”

Scarcely daring to breathe, Diana said nothing, and was grateful when Mary spoke from the kitchen doorway, her tone gently mocking. “Next you will say that you saw a regiment of rebels slip in at the back door, Duncan Campbell.”

Duncan shot her a furious look, but Diana saw with relief that Rory smiled.

He said to Mary, “I expect he would have mentioned such a spectacle by now if he had seen it, mistress.” Then, to Duncan, he said, “You have upset this household enough for one night, I think. If it makes you happy, leave a few of your men nearby to watch for Sir Neil. I doubt that he had aught to do with Glenure’s murder, but we should at least learn where he has been.”

“You may think he had naught to do with it,” Duncan snapped, “but there are others who know better. More than one man heard him threaten Colin. If you try to prevent us from getting warrants to arrest him or that villain Allan Breck, you are no more than a rebel in Campbell clothing, sir.”

“I have not said that you cannot get a warrant for Breck, although it will be redundant since he is already wanted. I expect you can get one for Sir Neil, too. When I left Kentallen Inn, they had already sent for Sheriff Stonefield. He is in Inverness, they say, so it will be Monday before he can get here, but he can attend to applying for your warrants then.”

“We want them straightaway,” Duncan snapped.

“He has to apply to the lord justice general’s clerk in Edinburgh for a murder warrant, I’m afraid, but I doubt that you will be the only one calling for them. There will be many men suspected of this crime, I think.”

“Aye, there will indeed,” Duncan said. “That meddling James Stewart, for one, and mayhap a Cameron or two. They’ve been devilish unhappy with our Colin of late, but I’ll wager that at least one of the villains hails from right here at Maclean House. Oh, I know you don’t agree, but you are no longer thinking with your head, cousin, and so I shall tell Argyll when we see him.”

Balcardane got up when Duncan opened the door to leave. The earl looked unsteady, as if he still had not taken in the magnitude of what had happened. He was extremely civil to Lady Maclean, treating her with the respect due to her as a woman and a widow, but Diana was certain he meant to demand Neil’s arrest.

When he reached the open doorway, he turned back and said to Rory, “’Tis barbarous, that’s what it is. What manner of villain can shoot a tolerant, unarmed man from behind? Colin leaves two infant daughters and a pregnant wife barely in her twenties. It is a deliberate challenge to lawful authority, nephew. No matter the cost, the villains must be tracked down and hanged, every blessed one of them.”

“We’ll catch them, sir,” Rory said quietly.

“Aye, we will. I’ve pledged my word on it.” His expression hardened. “Argyll will hear of this soon, and what he will think of your refusal to take known felons into custody, or to search these premises—Well, lad, I don’t envy you that interview, indeed I don’t. But I’ll say no more about it now. Duncan’s waiting. We’re going back to Kentallen Inn. They’ve taken Colin’s body there, you know.” Without another word, he went out and snapped the door shut behind him.

Diana saw from Rory’s expression that he expected to derive no pleasure from an interview with Argyll, but when he caught her gaze, he smiled ruefully.

“I’m sorry, lass. I can’t stop them from getting warrants for Neil and your cousin. I had all I could do to stop them from arresting you and her ladyship.”

“We are grateful,” Lady Maclean said. “Balcardane is right about one thing. This is barbarous. Before it’s done, I fear for us all.”

“That’s what James of the Glen said.”

“Have you seen him?” Diana asked, surprised.

“I have. A chap went to tell him about the murder, and I went along to see if the news surprised him. Don’t look like that. Like it or not, I have my duty to do.”

“What else will your duty demand of you, sir?”

“Make no mistake, lass. Once the investigation begins in earnest, it may progress in such a way that I’ll have to reveal certain things I know. Therefore, I’d strongly advise you to do nothing more to draw undue attention to yourself.”

Diana said with dignity, “I shall do what I must, sir, nothing more.”

His smile was crooked. “I’ve given you fair warning. I can do no more.”

When he had gone, Bardie said quietly, “That man does not know himself.”

“What do you mean?” Diana demanded.

“There he is, six foot something of fearsome Campbell, and he lets a wee scrap of a lass twist him round her thumb.”

“I wish that were so,” Diana said. “I could persuade him to leave us alone.”

“Do you really want tae be let alone, lassie? I ha’ seen the way ye look at the great creature. Yer eyes go all soft and dwammish.”

“Hush, Bardie. You don’t know what you are saying. Go and see if you can tell where Black Duncan’s men have hidden. We’ve got to get Allan out of here before Duncan comes back and searches the house.”

“I doubt he has the nerve tae do that without Calder’s leave,” Bardie said, getting up and carefully turning back a corner of the curtain. “Move that lamp, lass, so it willna shine straight out at them.”

“Have they gone?” Allan asked from the shadows of the narrow stairway.

“It’s a good thing for you if they have,” Diana said severely. “What if someone were still here and heard you?”

“Then I’d take out my sword and run them through,” he said lightly.

“Don’t joke about such things,” she scolded. “Mary, whatever are you doing? You keep going back and forth to the kitchen like a nervous cat.”

“Morag took whisky out to Duncan’s men,” Mary said quietly. “They ought to be nicely relaxed and sleepy by now.”

“Goodness, did you hope to make them drunk? I warrant they are too frightened of Duncan to do anything so foolish.”

“Oh, no,” Mary said. “I just want them nicely fuddled. I told Morag to tell them we could not spare them much, but MacDrumin’s whisky is potent and very good. Indeed, it is a pity to waste it on them, but when Morag says good-night to us, I don’t want anyone thinking clearly enough to wonder where she is going. Most folks hereabouts know she lives here except for occasional visits to her brother.”

“But why is she going anywhere?” Bardie asked.

Diana caught on swiftly. “A diversion!”

“Aye,” Mary said. “Even if they don’t remember that she ought not to be going, they will be suspicious of her, don’t you think? At least one of them is bound to demand to see her up close.” She turned to Allan. “Do you think you can manage to slip out while the men outside are watching Morag and whoever accosts her?”

“Aye, it will be as easy as kiss my hand, but I’m surprised that you’d help.”

“I want you well away from here, Allan.”

“Be quiet, the pair of you,” Diana said. Seeing Morag at the kitchen door, she said, “Do you understand what Miss Mary wants you to do?”

“Aye, mistress. I’m tae look like Master Allan if I can.”

“If you are afraid, one of us can go.”