My Heart's in the Highlands by Angeline Fortin (best english novels for beginners .TXT) 📗

could read her thoughts asclearly as she often read his, for he laughed humorously. “Aye,doesn’t come as much of a surprise, does it? It would be Jennings’sbest bet for more freedom in ruling Cuilean.”

“Actually, I always rather considered her hisworst alternative in the succession because she would want to rulewith an iron fist,” Hero said, “but I can see where she might havebeen able to persuade him. What if the man doesn’t recognizeJennings?”

“Then we are back at square one,” Ian saidgrimly. “Though I don’t think I could keep Jennings on with anyunresolved suspicions, if that were the case. Who else on the staffmight have assisted her?”

Hero shook her head almost immediately. “Mostof the household staff have been here for almost a decade. They areloyal to the marquisate and to Cuilean; I know it.”

“And the others?” he asked. “What about Simmsand Cooper?”

There was little to consider regarding herfather’s nurses. “Both came with us from London, as did Mandy. Theywould have no reason to assist Daphne, even if she had opportunityto approach them. But what of these other men you have hired?”

“The magistrate personally vouched for them,”Ian said, dismissing the thought. “What of those on the grounds?How many are there?”

With a slow release of breath, Hero shruggedand considered the width and breadth of Cuilean and all itencompassed. “More than twenty in the castle, four in the laundry,six in the stables. Out on the grounds? The garden? The farm? Ahundred, Ian. Easily.”

“That’s a broad pool of suspects,” Ian saidgrimly.

She nodded absently in agreement. “Dochertywas about on the grounds late one night … ah, I see, he wassearching the grounds for you.” Even if the groundskeeper hadn’tbeen out on the grounds at Ian’s command, Hero wouldn’t have beenable to believe the man capable of this level of duplicity. Sheknew these people. They were her people, for all that shehad left nine months before. Good, honest workers who spoke withher about their families and children. Who laughed and joked withher. She wouldn’t accept that the villain was one of her own.

Yet after what had happened tonight, shecouldn’t deny that there was a murderer at Cuilean.

“I can hire more men to protect us,” Ian wenton. “In the meantime, you stay close at all times, do youunderstand me? I dinnae want an argument from you, lass. I hadthought you were no longer a target but this last has proven mewrong. Daphne is showing no reluctance in including you in hertreachery.”

Hero nodded jerkily and rose to slide intohis arms. She held him tightly, pressing her cheek against hischest. His heartbeat was strong and sure. “I don’t want to loseyou, Ian.” The words were wrenched from deep within her. Surely,the utopian destiny Plato wrote of wouldn’t deliver a soul mate toher only to rip him away from her so soon, she thought, but fearfor him held her firmly anyway.

Ian’s lips brushed the top of her head as hisstrong arms wrapped around her. “You won’t, my love. We will catchher, I promise you. You’re going to be stuck with me for a longwhile yet.”

His words weren’t meant only to reassure butto tease as well. Hero, however, could find no amusement in them.Despite Ian’s reassurance, she couldn’t shake the feeling that thedanger wasn’t going to end anytime soon.

“Did I miss the campfire?” Beaumont askedfrom the doorway, wearing a blue silk waistcoat over his nightshirtand a pair of galoshes. The normally deep creases of his face werefolded into even graver lines of disappointment.

Hero only rolled her eyes with a groan,unable to find the humor in her father’s antics as she normallydid. This was more than a gray cloud hanging over their heads. Itwas dark and ominous, sending a shiver of foreboding down herspine.

Chapter Thirty-Two

A week later

Shrugging on his jacket, Ian made his waydown the stairs, nodding to his guards as he passed. It had been aweek since the fire. A week without further incident. While thatwas something to be glad for, Ian also knew that something wouldhave to change soon.

Without the arsonist’s identification ofJennings as the agent who had hired him, there had been no progressmade in finding conclusive evidence of Daphne’s culpability in theattacks. The week had been spent securing the grounds and vettingthe estate workers. It vexed him deeply that they hadn’t identifiedDaphne’s accomplice. Knowing that a killer lingered in his homerankled, but short of firing the entire staff, Ian couldn’t come upwith an absolute solution to that problem.

But the entire staff was also aware of thereason behind the recent questioning. They would be watching oneanother, and Ian’s hired guards were patrolling the castle at allhours now as well, keeping a watchful eye out for strangers andunusual movement. They would not be caught unaware again.

Such vigilance had rid them of any furtherincidents. There had been accidents, but nothing suspicious. WhileIan was glad nothing untoward had occurred of late, he was alsofrustrated by the lack of progress in the investigation, by theneed to lock his doors securely each night just to find a respitefrom the constant vigilance.

Life had become a series of watchful moments,of sickening anticipation.

He needed something to release them from theuncertainty that held the castle in its thrall. Everyone waswalking on eggshells, including Hero, and Ian knew she was as wearyas he of waiting for something to happen. Something to free them tolive the life they were meant to live.

The worst of it was that there was somethingIan was missing. He knew it but couldn’t put a finger on what itwas. The answer to it all. It nagged at him like a distant voicecalling at him, but Ian couldn’t understand the words.

And that frustrated him even more.

Following the sound of a piano being played,Ian turned at the bottom of the stairs and steered himself towardthe music room. It was a mournful sonata that perfectly suited thedark mood of the castle. Hero had been subdued all week. Her worryfor him was palpable. She feared for his