The Sinful Scot (Saints & Scoundrels) Page 7

  She pressed her lips together for a moment. “I’m sorry I was so cruel and didn’t tell you the truth of why I changed my mind.”

  “I recall you said that being seen dancing with me would ruin your marriage prospects?” Alec remembered the words all too well. He’d been furious and more than a little hurt that she considered him not good enough. That she’d changed that much from the girl he’d spent a great deal of time with when he was younger. “I’m sorry I called you nothing more than a title grabber. I should have known your mother was behind your change of mind. She’s always loathed me and especially detested our friendship.”

  Connie nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t have the nerve to stand up to her more back then. I think she was scared there was something between us…” Her voice trailed off. “Which I thought rather hilarious, considering I always thought you were somewhat in love with Sophie.”

  “You thought I was in love with Sophie?”

  “I did,” Connie replied. “And I don’t think I was the only one. Your scowl would always disappear whenever she was near.”

  Alec was silent for a moment as he thought back to those times. Of course he cared for Sophie—who wouldn’t? The lady was kindness personified. But love? No. After Elise, he hadn’t allowed himself to come close to falling in love again. “I think a small part of me was hoping I was in love with her,” he eventually replied.

  “Hoping you were?” She appeared confused by his words, and in truth so was he.

  “I did admire her greatly back then, and I still do,” Alec tried to explain, perhaps as much to himself as to Connie. “After Elise shattered my heart and I returned to England, I was, let’s just say, extremely jaded about women. But Sophie was so different from society ladies. She didn’t care about a title, she didn’t care about getting married, in fact, she actively didn’t want to. Traits that were so opposite to everything Elise was, that I found myself thinking if I could find someone like her to love, then I would never be hurt again.”

  “Sophie is a very special lady,” Connie said.

  “She is,” he agreed. “So, for a time I think I may have appeared to be slightly infatuated with her. But it was more the idea of her that I was infatuated with. That there was someone so good and pure out there, who would never betray me. And after being betrayed by my entire family, that was very entrancing.”

  “Yes, Sophie would never betray anyone,” Connie agreed. “And who could blame you for admiring her? Sophie is all that is good in the world.”

  “She is. Though I can honestly say I’ve never been in love with her, Connie.” Alec didn’t know why it was important Connie believe him, simply that it was.

  “You weren’t?”

  He shook his head. “No, I wasn’t. And if I’m being honest, I think I was so upset when you had changed your mind to dance with me because I was so bloody attracted to you that night.”

  A searing heat jolted through him as her eyes glanced over to his with such an expression of questions and possibilities in her gaze.

  She flicked her eyes forward at the approaching horizon. “Well, if we’re both being honest, I was very attracted to you then, too. I can still remember the snow-white cravat and midnight black suit you were wearing. You’d never looked more handsome, but I was still too afraid of displeasing my mother to stand up to her. I wish I’d had the courage to do so, but a small part of me was desperate to gain her love. I should have known she’s not capable of such an emotion.”

  “I’m sure she loves you.” Alec supposed that there had to be some vestiges of humanity and love within the cold hard shell that was the countess. “She most likely simply has a difficult time displaying emotions.”

  “I used to think so, too, but after the first and only time she visited me, around six months after my wedding, I changed my mind.” Connie continued. “I confided in her that Duncan was beating me, constantly, and I actually begged her for help.”

  “What did she do?”

  There was a heavy silence.

  Eventually Connie shook her head in the negative. “She did nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  Licking her lips, she shrugged. “She refused to, instead blaming me and saying that I must not be behaving in a proper manner, and basically that my willfulness was most likely the cause of his wrath. So she told me that I needed to improve myself as a wife and stop vexing him to the point of anger.”

  A sick feeling pitted in his stomach. “She blamed you?” The woman had always belittled Alec, refusing to even acknowledge him at several assemblies, and that behavior had hurt. But to ignore the fact that her daughter was being beaten? Absolutely inexcusable.

  Connie nodded. “She did. Anyhow, it was a good lesson for me, that there was no point in trying to please her or earn her affection. And I haven’t spoken to her since. She’s never even written to see how I was faring.”

  “You should have told someone else, then.” Alec tried to keep the frustration out of his tone, though it was hard. “Your brother would have put a stop to it. Hell, if I had known, I would have, too.”

  “My brother would have killed Duncan.” She pulled out a flask from the satchel he’d prepacked for her and took a swallow of the water.

  The thought of her brother killing Duncan didn’t bother Alec nearly as much as it should have. “Men who abuse those weaker than themselves are lower than bottom dwellers in my opinion. I can understand your brother wanting to thrash the living daylights out of any man who would dare to raise a fist against you.”

  She smiled, though there was a wistfulness in her expression. “Richard would have literally killed Duncan, not simply thrashed him. Particularly if he’d ever found out how close Duncan had come to killing me.”

  “What do you mean, came close to killing you?” He felt every inch of himself tense at the thought.

  Connie sighed. “After he first struck me, I tried to flee but didn’t get very far. When he got me back to the castle, he wasted no time in demonstrating his displeasure that I had dared to try to leave.” She took in a somewhat shaky breath and stared off into the distance. “Apparently the doctor he eventually summoned, after Fergus insisted, mind you, didn’t think I’d make it. But I did. Eventually.” She returned her attention back to him, and he could see the brief flash of pride in her eyes before her expression became shuttered. “Sometimes, though… I wish I hadn’t.”

  “Don’t ever think that, Connie.” He was aching with the knowledge of the pain and suffering she’d gone through, and not just physically. He had to restrain himself from hauling her from her horse onto his lap to hold her and comfort her. But he knew that would only spook her, and he didn’t want her to ever be afraid of him.

  Not to mention having her on his lap would be highly inappropriate, especially as his darned body seemed to be so physically aware of her. “You are one of the most determined people I know, and quite frankly, I couldn’t imagine this world without you in it.”

  “You couldn’t?” There was a note of hope in her voice.

  “No, I couldn’t,” he confirmed.

  There was silence between them, as their eyes stayed locked on each other and their horses gently wandered down the path, side by side. Alec couldn’t drag his gaze away from her if his life depended on it. He had to ensure she knew how special she was. Not many women could go through what she had and keep their mental spirits intact.

  “Even though perhaps my behavior didn’t quite reflect that in the past,” he continued. “Because as much as we used to clash before you went off and married that bastard, and I always chided you—”

  “Yes, you certainly did that.” She was quick to agree. “Though I think I rather deserved it. I was horrible to you at times. Treating you the way I did.”

  Alec smiled, glad that she didn’t sound as despondent as she had a minute ago. “I did. But I realize now that I may have n
ot been entirely fair to you in doing so.”

  “Excuse me? Is that a semi apology from you, Alec McGuiness?”

  He could hear the hint of incredulity and slight amusement in her tone. And he couldn’t blame her—he was rather stubborn about certain things. “Yes, I suppose it is. Your behavior as a debutant reminded me too much of someone, that I think I transferred my anger for her onto you. So for that I am sorry.”

  “Oh.” She gulped. “I knew something must have happened in the Highlands all those years ago, because you returned…changed, at least from what I remembered. Though I hadn’t realized it involved a woman.”

  Alec sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Doesn’t it always?”

  She smiled warily. “I suppose it does. I’m sorry she hurt you. Was this woman the Elise you mentioned earlier?”

  “It was,” Alec replied. “But a broken heart is nothing compared to the hurt you’ve had to endure. How long did it take you to recover from that first beating?”

  “I was laid up in bed for more than two months,” she answered.

  His fists started to clench, and Alec had to once again make a concerted effort to calm himself down. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her. “Two months?” She hadn’t exaggerated when she’d said she’d been beaten to within an inch of her life.

  “Yes. They thought I wouldn’t be able to walk again, but thankfully, I eventually recovered. Though my legs still pain me occasionally, especially when it rains.”

  He could see that her hands were tightly gripping the leather bits of the bridle as she relived the horror. Alec had never wished violence on anyone before, but in this case, he hoped there was some justice in the afterlife for what the bastard had done.

  “In a way, though,” she continued, “it obviously scared Duncan enough, so that he never beat me as badly again. At first, I naively believed that he’d been contrite over his actions. But I later realized that he couldn’t risk losing my monthly dowry payments if I died. A small comfort, I suppose.”

  Alec nudged his horse closer to hers and gently took the reins from her hands, then eased both horses to a stop.

  Connie turned and raised her face to him, defiant against the tears silently trailing down her cheeks. He had to take in several deep breaths himself. Hearing of all she’d suffered was nearly his undoing.

  Whenever he’d thought of Connie over the years, he’d always imagined she’d be in her element as a duchess and living a life of luxury. Never could he have anticipated she’d been living in her own private hell.

  “If I’d known this on the night of the ball, I never would have left you there alone with him.” Alec’s voice was a rough whisper. “Never. Not even for one more second.”

  Slowly she nodded, a soft smile spreading across her face.

  Courage shone in her expression, and Alec had never felt such a compulsion to kiss anyone more than he did Connie right at that instant. But he couldn’t. She was too emotionally fragile; kissing her would be tantamount to taking advantage of her. And Alec would never do that. “I wish you had told me what was happening.”

  “I couldn’t.” She shook her head, and some tendrils of her blond hair brushed across her cheek.

  He had to resist reaching his hand over and gently brushing the wisp of hair back behind her ear. Her skin appeared so soft and delicate, he couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to mar its perfection. Belatedly, he realized he was holding his breath. “You could have told me.”

  Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, and Alec nearly groaned. He had to get his entirely inappropriate thoughts in check, or he’d be lost.

  “After I told my mother and she did nothing, I didn’t feel I could really confide in anyone else,” Connie whispered. “Some of it was misplaced pride, I can see that now. Though I was also protecting Amelie.”

  “Amelie?” He’d not heard her use the name before.

  “My six-year-old stepdaughter,” she explained, a smile spreading across her face. “She’s such a darling little girl, but Duncan threatened to beat her if I so much as dared tell anyone what was going on.”

  Alec could understand her reluctance in light of that. What an absolute bastard her husband had been. “Is the girl safe, though, with Fergus?”

  “She’s currently on the way to her grandfather’s, in the company of my maid Sarah and the coachman,” Connie replied. “Fergus has no idea, and I doubt he will realize she’s even gone, especially once he discovers I’ve escaped. Though I suppose it’s possible he’ll think I have Amelie with me. Which I must say, I’d thought about doing, but in the end, she will be far safer with the MacKinnons than she would be fleeing with me. As much as I already desperately miss her.”

  “The MacKinnons, as in Clan MacKinnon?”

  “Yes,” Connie confirmed. “Her grandfather and aunt will protect her.”

  “That they certainly will.” Alec had never met a more independent and fiercer lady than Lorelie MacKinnon, the current earl’s daughter. If anyone would ensure the girl was safe, it was that she-devil, as his brother liked to call the woman. Alec himself had been impressed at the amount of annoyance she stirred in his brother. A woman who could ruffle his brother that much was a woman with admirable qualities. “Come, we best keep moving.”

  They both turned their horses and urged them into a swift trot toward their destination, falling into a comfortable silence. The sun was slowly rising and turning the sky into a brilliant canvas of colors: hues of bright orange, tinged with pink and purple shimmered along the horizon. It was easy enough to lose himself in the stunning vista, but for the fact that a niggle of awareness had begun to twinge at the nape of his neck.

  And whenever he felt that niggle, trouble usually followed.

  He casually scanned the edge of the clearing, first to his right and then to his left but could see only the softly swaying trees of the forest in the distance. For all intents and purposes, it appeared they were alone in this rather forlorn part of the country. And he’d been often looking behind them, to ensure they weren’t being followed.

  Even though he couldn’t see anything, he had the strong sense that they weren’t safe. Almost as if he could feel someone’s eyes watching them as they rode across the countryside. But that was impossible.

  Chapter Ten

  Connie hadn’t realized how good it would feel telling Alec some of what she’d had to endure during her marriage to Duncan. She now understood what the expression “having a weight lifted from one’s shoulders” felt like, because she really did feel so much lighter now after the simple act of unburdening some of her horrid experiences.

  She was finally coming to appreciate that it hadn’t been her fault each time Duncan had struck her, as much as her mother and he had blamed her for his actions.

  Being with Alec, even for such a short time, was reminding her of how decent men treated others—with respect and not with their fists. Already she was starting to feel a bit more like her old self, though she’d never again make the mistake of placing possessions and titles above all else. That lesson had been learned the hard way, and she had no intention of repeating it.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the sudden tension in Alec’s posture as he casually began to glance around.

  “What is it?” she asked him.

  “I’m not certain.” He continued to slowly swivel his gaze across the tree-lined ridges in the distance. “Probably nothing.”

  “Please don’t keep me in the dark,” she rebuked him. “I’m not a child, and if something is wrong, I need to know. Then I can help, or at least be prepared to take action.”

  Slowly, he nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ve spotted a man hiding among the trees in the distance. Don’t look, though,” he was quick to warn her.

  Connie kept facing straight ahead, though it was hard not to glance to where Alec was referring
. “Could it be a farmer or a passing clansman?”

  Alec shrugged. “Possibly, but why simply stay and watch us? I have the feeling he’s very specifically interested in us. Though that makes no sense at all, considering no one should know we’re coming this way, let alone be waiting to keep watch for us.”

  “Could Fergus have discovered me gone and sent ahead a telegraph to the outlying townships?” The thought brought with it a sense of alarm. She felt like kicking the flanks of her mare and racing as fast as she could away from the potential threat.

  “I doubt it. The telegraph offices wouldn’t even be open yet.”

  “Oh, no, of course not.” She wasn’t thinking straight, otherwise that fact would have been glaringly obvious. Without thought, her body seemed to brace itself of its own accord, ready for the slap that would usually accompany her suggesting anything so stupid.

  “Are you all right, Connie?” Alec’s voice was gentle.

  Taking in a somewhat shaky breath, she nodded. It was going to take her some time to get used to not having to be on her guard all the time, her body braced for an attack. “Yes, I just realized how silly my suggestion was…and usually Duncan would display his displeasure and slap me if I uttered such a thing in front of him.”

  She could hear Alec mutter something about hoping the bastard was rotting in Hell under his breath, and it brought a tingle of warmth to her heart. He seemed to really loathe the thought of her being hurt, and she liked that—a lot.

  “Do you think we need to worry about the man in the trees?” Connie thought it best to get back on topic and redirect her focus away from Alec and what the thought of him caring about her was doing to her heart. And though she’d withstood her body being broken, she didn’t think she could stand her heart being broken. Not by Alec. Especially not by him.

  “He doesn’t seem to be moving,” Alec replied. “And I can see no weapon in his hands. Though that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a rifle within easy reach, and we’re approaching his shooting range if he does.”