The Devil’s Due by Boucher, Rita (free reads txt) 📗

people will examine more closely where they did not bother to look before.”

“A single candle may be easily snuffed,” Kate said.

“Or it can be the spark that ignites a legion of rockets,” Duncan reminded her. “I have to try, Kate. Surely you, of all people, can comprehend that. And once that oath is fulfilled, I intend to seek redress for Anne.”

“No,” Kate protested. “I have told you-”

“Is it only Anne’s safety that you seek?” Duncan asked. “You, yourself spoke the truth. It is entirely unlikely that Becky was the first, or the only. Nor, unless something is done, will she be the last. Will you leave him to prey on other innocents? Allow him to be forever a threat to you?”

“And what if your efforts lead him back here?” Kate demanded, trying to ignore the stabs of her conscience. She knew that he spoke the truth. “Do you not realize that he could drag Anne back under his roof, with all the force of the law coming to his aid?”

“I would never allow Anne to come to harm,” Duncan promised. “You know that.”

“Allow? Are you like the King of Denmark, Canute was his name if I recall, who demonstrated the futility of trying to command the tide? You would never allow! How could you stop him? If you believe that you have conquered your trait of arrogance, Duncan MacLean, you are sorely misguided.”

“You lack faith,” he murmured.

“I had faith once,” Kate lamented that loss, the time when she had seen the world through the lens of innocence. “I believed that my husband loved me. I believed in virtue, accepted the truisms that devotion and honor would always be victorious. But no longer. I have since found that virtue is more often than not a mere appearance; that devotion is not worth a tuppence without respect. Moreover, when honor is unaccompanied by strength, evil does triumph.”

“Only if we allow it,” Duncan said, starting back towards the castle. He could not very well fault her for a credo that so closely coincided with his own. But then he had never before made the fatal error of believing in anything or anyone. “I intend to fight, even though I may well be doomed to failure.”

“Then wage your own wars, not mine!” Kate called after him.

He did not look back.

“Damn you, Duncan MacLean!” Kate called. “Damn you.”

He turned to face her; his gaze desolate.

“There’s no need to curse me, Kate. It’s been done already, by a man who wove his maledictions far more eloquently. But if you wish you are welcome to add your damnation to the heap already upon my head. It is no more than I deserve.”

“You could not hope to win,” Kate said, trying desperately to explain. She knew that she had wounded his pride, but Anne’s safety was paramount. “He is like a spider hiding in the corner of an enormous web. The slightest tremor, even the most discreet touch would bring him scurrying forth. Do you not see that I would have to take Anne and leave here, rather than risk him finding us?”

“So now we arrive at the crux of the matter. Very well, Kate. I shall take no initiatives. You need not flee,” he told her, keeping his voice steady. “But you might wish to consider this. If he is as powerful and determined as you believe him to be, he may well find you, sooner or later. Sometimes, a surprise offense is the only way to defeat a superior enemy. That is the tactic that I intend to employ. John Vesey still thinks that I am a dead man. I suspect that my sudden resurrection will come as something of a shock.”

Kate willed herself to stay upright, commanding her legs to remain rigid until Duncan was out of sight. Then slowly, she wilted to her knees, sobbing in gasping breaths.

Chapter 11

There was feasting by the light of the full moon. Makeshift tables groaned with scones and bannocks, fish, savory stews and even steaming haggis. In the space of an afternoon, Daisy and the village women had turned simple fare into a banquet.

Despite his disappointment in Kate, Duncan felt his spirits lifting. Smoothing the fold of fabric beneath the brooch fastened to his tartan, he rose from his place. Silence fell upon the courtyard.

“I am not a man who puts much credence in miracles,” he said, surveying those work-worn faces. “In my life, I’ve found that it is mostly self-interest that drives people. ‘Tis the way of things, I suppose, to believe that others are just like us.”

Kate felt his eye upon her, heard the note of disillusionment. If he noticed the redness at the corners of her eyes, he made no sign. His look tore right through her, and for a moment she feared that the shards of her hard-won composure would be shattered.

John Vesey . . . his enemy was hers. All the Steele money, the patronage and the power would be arrayed against Duncan. By comparison, David’s stand against Goliath appeared a well-balanced match. Hastily, she directed her attention to her plate.

“But tried though I have,” Duncan continued, his look touching each and every one of them, “I can see no selfishness in what you have done here today. You who owe me naught, but scorn have opened your hands to me, given me the fealty that my father and father’s father had deservedly forfeited. You’ve wrought wonders here and I, humbly thank you, along with my lady.”

The subtle emphasis on those last words cut like a lash, but she rose, as was expected of her. She would have to leave, take Anne and Daisy. If Duncan bearded Vesey in his lair, it would only be a matter of time before her enemy was drawn to the scent. Did Duncan have any inkling of what he faced? Would he believe her if she warned him, or would he think that she was only trying to protect her own interests? And if she told