Unlaced by the Outlaw (Secrets in Silk) (33 page)

Though he knew Paul wouldn’t lie, he couldn’t quite grasp it. “Tell me everything that’s happened.”

“The magistrates questioned Jonah, and he was caught fleeing with the murder weapon. There was enough evidence to lock him away while he awaits the trial. Because he was accused of murdering an earl, he’ll be tried at the High Court of Justiciary.”

God help his brother. Jonah would be terrified, alone in the dark. And the Tolbooth was a place reserved for the worst criminals of all. Cain had visited Edinburgh as a boy, and the horrifying smell of the prison only hinted at the nightmares inside.

“What kind of evidence would they have on a boy of four-and-ten?” Cain demanded. “The lad can barely wake up in the mornings. He’s no’ able to plan something like that.” He shook his head and stood up. “I’m going to Edinburgh. I need to see him.”

“You won’t get there until morning,” Paul said, gesturing him to sit back down. “And we’ll go once we’ve hired a solicitor for him. Naught will happen before the trial.”

“He’s a boy,” Cain said quietly. “Imprisoned with murderers and thieves. And you think naught will happen?” His blood ran cold at the thought of a young lad locked away with hardened criminals. Being starved and forced to endure the filth was the kinder side of prison. The boy could be faced with far worse threats from the men chained up with him.

Paul let out a heavy breath. “I’ll do whate’er I can for him, Cain. And I’ll send word to Duke Worthingstone. He might be able to help us even more.”

Margaret would want to give her assistance as well, Cain knew. And though he didn’t want to trouble her, it had been over a fortnight already. It could be months before he returned to Ballaloch, and he didn’t want her to think he’d abandoned her.

“I want to send word to Miss Andrews,” Cain admitted. “She should be told about this so she willna worry.”

“You and Margaret, eh?” Fraser lifted his cup in a silent toast. “I heard from Juliette that the pair of you spent a month together, stranded in the Highlands.”

“Aye.” His knuckles whitened over his cup. “But don’t be speaking any words against my Margaret, or I’ll have to break your bones, Fraser.”

“Nay, my friend. I’ve always thought the two of you made a good match.” Paul took a sip from his cup.

Cain relaxed at that. “I don’t want her thinking I’ve turned my back on her.”

“I’ll send a letter, don’t fear.” His friend added, “Come and stay with me at Falsham. Juliette will want to see you.”

Cain nodded his agreement, and the two men rose. Though he knew his friend would do everything in his power to help, there was no way to know how much trouble Jonah was in.

TWO WEEKS LATER

The Edinburgh Tolbooth was a stone outbuilding that reminded Cain of the Tower of London. Even outside, it held a stench so vile, it bordered on violent. Cain covered his face with his hand, following the guard inside. Though he’d been to visit his brother every day during the past two weeks, he couldn’t get used to the conditions of the prison, with no privy and no drainage. He had to get Jonah out. No one could survive living in a place like this.

When the guard led him inside, Jonah was sitting against a meager pile of straw. There was hardly any light in the cell, and his brother’s wrists were chained to the wall.

“Good morning, lad,” he greeted the boy. His brother shrugged, saying nothing in return.

Jonah’s hair had grown longer and was hanging over his eyes. His clothes were tattered and worn, and Cain doubted if the boy had slept at all. Seeing him like this, hardly caring about the world around him, was even more frightening than the prison. Gone was the outspoken, rebellious lad. In his place was a boy who was resigned to this fate.

“Are you hungry?” Cain asked. At that, there was a faint spark of life from Jonah. He withdrew a piece of bread from his sporran and handed it over. The moment he did, Jonah snatched it from his hands and crammed it into his mouth.

“I’m going to get you out of here, I swear it,” he told the boy. They had hired a solicitor, but the man admitted that the prosecutor had a strong case against Jonah. Unless they found other witnesses or evidence, the outcome didn’t look good. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right. He needed to understand all of it so he could help his brother.

“I want to hear it again,” Cain said quietly. “Tell me everything that happened to you.”

Jonah chewed the bread, but his face was hollow, his eyes locked in a glassy stare. “I’m going to be hanged, aren’t I?”

“Nay. I willna let that happen, lad.” The very thought of his brother going to the gallows chilled his blood. Cain couldn’t understand how anyone could imagine that Jonah was capable of murder. He blamed himself for the lad’s troubles. He shouldn’t have trusted Rory to look after him. The man had lost everything when his wife had died and wasn’t able to care for Jonah.

Cain wished to God that he’d gone back to Scotland earlier. If he’d somehow reached Ballaloch, he might have stopped his brother from leaving with MacKinloch.

“Why will they no’ believe me?” Jonah asked. The hopelessness in his voice made him sound younger than his fourteen years. “I didna kill him.”

“I ken that,” Cain insisted. “But tell me everything that happened. I want to hear if there’s aught we can investigate. We might’ve missed something.” He didn’t care how many times he heard the story. Surely the answers were there.

“I’ve told you. MacKinloch went out that night and took our father’s gun.”

“Go on.” Cain was trying to piece together the story, looking for reasons why MacKinloch had not been more thoroughly questioned.

“After MacKinloch left that night, he didna come back. I got scared and I went looking for him. I just . . . followed the road and kept walking. That was when I found the coach.”

“And the body,” Cain prompted.

“And his body, aye. MacKinloch blew his brains out.” Jonah closed his eyes, his hands shaking. “I’d ne’er seen a murdered man before, Cain. I knelt down to see if he was dead and I didna see that his blood got on my shirtsleeves. I—I took Father’s pistol back and ran away as fast as I could, back to the inn. Then I saw the men gathering together. I was so afraid, I hid.”

Though he understood why Jonah had hidden himself, it had likely added to the illusion of guilt. “Where was MacKinloch?”

“He was already there. He told the police he’d been playing cards all night, and the men he was with said that was true.” Jonah’s voice was toneless, and a faint smile touched his mouth. “They came to ask me questions and found the pistol. I tried to run away, but they caught me.”

“And they didna keep MacKinloch in custody.” That was what he didn’t understand. MacKinloch was the man with a true reason to kill Strathland—not Jonah. Why hadn’t they detained him?

“They asked him questions, but they believed the other men who said he was there all night. I told them it wasna true, that I’d gone to follow him. But since I had Father’s gun, and they believed that was the weapon, they took me.”

Cain let out a slow breath. The other men had clearly lied, but for what reason? Was there a bribe involved?

“Where is MacKinloch now?” Somehow, he had to find the man and get him to confess.

“They let him go,” Jonah admitted. “There was no evidence against him.”

It didn’t seem possible that it could be true. All the evidence they had on Jonah was coincidental. But if he was the only suspect they had, Cain understood why they had taken his brother prisoner.

“I’m afraid,” Jonah whispered. “They executed a woman yesterday. She was here because her husband had been beating her. She killed him to make it stop.” His brother’s face had gone white, but Cain said nothing, waiting for him to continue. “They burned her. I—I thought they’d hang her, but they burned her alive. I heard her screaming.”

He knew all too well what that was like. The memory of the fire came back to him, and the agony of the burns. Margaret had spent weeks caring for him. And not once had she been disgusted by the sight of his back.

He remembered the way she’d touched his scars, and the vision only made him more determined to go back to her. Nay, she wasn’t his wife by law. But one day, she would be his.

When he returned to Ballaloch, he intended to pursue her relentlessly. From the moment he’d laid eyes on her lovely face, he’d been struck down. Her proper ways had entertained the hell out of him, for he’d known that beneath the primness lay a woman of fire.

Even now, he couldn’t stop thinking about the Heaven in her arms or the way it felt to fall asleep with Margaret beside him. God, he loved her. And somehow, they would be together when this was all over.

Cain reached out and took his brother’s hand, trying to reassure Jonah. “I promise you, I willna let you die. We’ll find MacKinloch and force him to confess to what he did.”

“What if he’s gone?” His brother’s voice held dread. “What if we ne’er find him?” A moment later, tears filled his eyes. “I ken that I made mistakes, Cain. When they questioned me, they were so angry, I got confused.”

He stilled, for his brother had not spoken of the examination before. “Tell me what you said.”

“They asked if the gun was mine. I told them nay, that it was Father’s. Then they asked if the blood on my shirt was Strathland’s. I said it was, but I didna kill him. A few days later, they asked more questions. I hadn’t eaten or slept, and I hardly could tell what I was saying.”

Which had likely been done on purpose, Cain realized. The investigators would not spare him, merely because Jonah was four-and-ten.

“They said they knew about the fires I’d set. MacKinloch must’ve told them about the wool I burned that belonged to the earl—I swear to you, I didna say a word about it. And they knew I hated Strathland for forcing us out of our home.” His brother broke down weeping. “They made me sound like a murderer, Cain. But I couldna do such a thing.”

Cain pulled his brother into a hard embrace, regardless of the chains. “I will find MacKinloch. And when I do, I’ll get you out of here. I swear it on my life.”

Please let him be here,
Margaret prayed. There hadn’t been enough time to send word to her sister beforehand, so she could only hope that Cain was staying at Falsham. His best friend was Paul Fraser, Juliette’s husband, so it was possible that he would seek help from the viscount.

After the footman opened the door and allowed her inside, Juliette caught sight of her and hurried forward. “Margaret!” She crushed her sister in her arms, talking rapidly. “I’m so glad you’re safe. Mother wrote to us and told us that you came to Ballaloch. And Mr. Sinclair told us, of course, that you were all right.” Juliette drew back and asked, “Whatever are you doing here?”

Margaret accepted the warm embrace of her sister and smiled. “I’m glad to see you, too, Juliette. I came to see Cain, if he’s staying with you?”

“He is, yes. He’s at the Edinburgh Tolbooth right now,” Juliette said, “but he should be home by nightfall.”

“The Tolbooth?” Margaret couldn’t imagine why Cain would have gone there. “Did something happen with Jonah?”

Juliette led her into the drawing room. “He and Paul have been working together, trying to help clear Jonah’s name.” She began telling Margaret the details of the arrest. “Lord Strathland is dead, and they think Jonah killed him.”

Oh goodness, no. Not the boy. Her heart sank at the thought of what both Jonah and Cain were enduring at this moment. It made sense now, why he’d been gone for so long. His brother’s life hung in the balance.

“When will the trial be?”

“Within a fortnight,” Juliette said. “Cain and Paul have been searching for the true murderer.”

Which meant that Cain had likely spent every waking moment trying to help his brother. He was a man who never gave up, and he would turn over every stone to find the answers.

“Two weeks isn’t long at all.” Trials at the High Court of Justiciary often took months before they were held.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Juliette agreed. “Jonah has been imprisoned for several weeks now, and the prosecution has a strong case against him. And there’s no sign of Joseph MacKinloch, the man who traveled with him this far.” Juliette bade her to sit down and rang for tea. There was unrest in her sister’s voice, and she appeared pale. “I am not sorry that the Earl of Strathland is dead.”