Dangerous Pride (11 page)

A tear traced down the Earl’s weathered skin as he stoically met her gaze.  “The lad found yer sister only a mile from the keep.  She’d been thrown from her horse.  He came for help, and they brought her back here, covered in blood…”  Catriona’s hand flew to her mouth, but she was unable to stifle the shocked gasp that flew from her lips.  “We sent for the doctor from Banff, but there was naught he could do.  She’s dead, Catriona.  My beautiful Elizabeth is dead.”

Catriona felt a wave of coldness pass over her, and the room began to tilt at odd angles in front of her eyes. 
I’m in shock,
she thought, her detachment from her horror oddly fascinating to her. 
My sister is dead, and I’m in shock.

The Earl briefly placed his hand on her arm as she struggled to blink back the tears that threatened to pour down her cheeks.  Whatever anger there had been between them, Catriona had never wished her sister dead.  When she continued to stare blankly into the distance, Seafield rose to his feet.  Crossing the room on unsteady legs, he slowly filled a glass with brandy.  “Here, lass, drink this down,” he said as he bent down to offer her the glass.  “You’ll feel better if you do.”

Catriona nodded mutely, accepting the drink from her father.  The warm amber liquid blazed a trail down her throat, and she struggled not to cough.  The tears continued to burn at the back of her eyes, but soon the liquid spread a warmth through her numbed body.  “My sister is dead,” she said finally, unable to meet the gaze of either man.  “How could this have happened?  I saw her just before she left the stables.  She had on her blue velvet riding habit – and I remember thinking it was a silly choice for a warm day like this.  How can she be dead?”  She knew she was babbling, but Catriona seemed unable to stop herself.

Neither man had any words to comfort her, and after a time Catriona fell into a numbed silence, tears flooding down her pale cheeks.  Regardless of the way her sister had lived her life, she had deserved better than a senseless death at a tender age.

It was some time before Catriona felt strong enough to push herself to her feet and see to the endless tasks that lay before her. Not surprisingly, Lady Ogilvy had taken to her bed, and had left word that she had no interest in seeing her youngest daughter.  Still numb with shock, she slowly made her way to the great hall, where the clan had gathered for the evening meal.  The mood was subdued, and the laughter and chatter usually present were conspicuously absent.  She passed through the hall like a ghost, unaware of the people around her as she walked past the tables and entered the kitchen.  Cook spotted Catriona from across the room, and quickly wrapped her in a warm, affectionate hug.  The smell of freshly baked bread and wood smoke wafted off the older woman’s clothing, and for a brief moment Catriona felt comforted.

“I’m so verra sorry,” Cook said, reaching up to wipe a tear as it trailed down her cheek. “Yer sister was a difficult lass at times, but she did no’ deserve tae have her life cut short like this.”

Mutely, Catriona nodded, pulling out of Cook’s embrace and seating herself on the edge of a wooden stool.  “I think I must still be in shock.  I canna seem to wrap my head around the idea that I’ll ne’er see her again,” Catriona confided, her eyes glazed and unfocused as she stared off into the distance.

Cook’s gaze was sympathetic as she watched the young woman struggle to contain her emotions.  Better that the lass learn now how to keep her feelings guarded; to not show others the pain she felt no matter how strong or deep the emotion. It was a difficult lesson to be sure, but given Catriona’s circumstances, there was no other option. Pain and love could be used against her, should others be aware these feelings existed. “Ye’ll weather this storm, lass.  I have full faith in ye.”

Catriona sat straighter in the chair, feeling a strange sort of comfort in the knowledge that others were depending on her.  She knew she needed to set aside her feelings of sorrow and loss and deal with the matters at hand.  There would be time enough for grief later.  Catriona leaned over to kiss the older woman’s cheek, grateful for her tireless support and faith. “Do you think you could have a dinner tray sent to the drawing room for Iain and my da?  They’re not up to eating in the great hall, and I’m worried they’ll go with naught but whiskey and brandy.”

Cook quickly set the serving lasses to the task.  After spending a few minutes to discuss the arrangements for Elizabeth’s burial, Catriona left to rejoin her family in the drawing room.  The sound of angry males voices reached down the hall, stopping suddenly as she opened the heavy oak door.

All eyes turned to fix upon Catriona as she entered the room.  Iain and Calum stood face-to-face in front of the fire, their bodies tense, their faces flushed with anger.  The Earl sat to the side, his hair in disarray as he looked at her with sad, empty eyes.

“I came to tell you that I’ll have dinner sent to the room…” Catriona started, her words trailing off as her gaze flitted nervously between the three men.  What was Calum doing meeting with her father and brother?  Though he was a respected warrior within the clan, his presence during private family discussions was unexpected.  Catriona’s felt the blood drain from her face as she considered the implications of Calum’s presence.  Was it possible his relationship with Elizabeth had been discovered?

Noting her distress, the Earl waved Catriona to a seat beside him. “Come in, lass, and shut the door behind you.  This conversation need not be shared with the rest of the clan any sooner than absolutely necessary.”  Crossing the room on unsteady legs, Catriona was unable to quell the sense of foreboding that threatened to shatter her veneer of control.

Once she had taken her seat, Seafield reached over and took her hand in his, the gesture uncharacteristically gentle.  “Calum has brought us some news of yer sister’s death that has distressed us all greatly,” he said.  “It appears he does no’ believe it was an accident.”

Staring blankly at her father, Catriona waited for him to continue.  “Calum thinks someone in the keep tampered with Elizabeth’s saddle.  He believes they set out to kill her.”  The Earl released Catriona’s hand and rubbed his throbbing temples, all but overcome with grief and frustration.

Catriona could feel Calum’s eyes as he stared at her, but she couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze.  Her mind whirled with the shock of his suspicions.  What reason could he possibly have for making such an accusation?  Perhaps he had cared for Elizabeth, and his actions were those of a man overcome with grief.  Though she had never felt any fondness for Calum, she had to admit he might have truly loved her sister.

Hesitantly, she turned to look at her brother, searching his pallid face for some indication of his feelings.  “Do you believe such a thing possible, Iain?  No one in the clan had any reason to wish Elizabeth ill.  Is it no’ most likely it was a riding accident?”

Iain turned to look at his younger sister, his heart lurching at the pain and sadness that marked her pretty features.  “I wish it were that simple, Catriona.  But it is no’.”

“Yer brother is right, Catriona,” Calum interrupted, his dark eyes peering into hers with a look of pure hatred.  “After they brought yer sister back to the castle, I took several of the men and went out to fetch her horse.  We found him not far from where her saddle lay.  When we examined the animal, we could no’ find any sign of injury.  But when we looked over the saddle, we found it had been tampered with.”

Catriona straightened her spine as she struggled to contain the fear coursing through her body.  She’d be damned if she would show any weakness to this man.  “What do you mean, exactly, when you say the saddle was tampered with?”

“The strap that synched the saddle to the mare was broken in two, you see.  And it was no’ something that had simply torn over time.  There was a straight cut in the leather.  It was no’ a ragged tear.”  Calum waited a moment to let his words sink in.  “This was no accident, Lady Catriona,” he said, his expression smug and threatening.  “Yer sister was killed on purpose.”

“I can see you believe that,” Catriona said finally, refusing to rise to Calum’s bait by losing her temper.  The possibility that someone had wished her sister dead was incredible, but Catriona was coming to realize she knew precious little about the life her sister had led.  Should she tell her brother and father of Calum’s involvement with Elizabeth, and that his grief may have left him desperate for revenge?  Or should she simply leave the matter in their hands, and not involve herself?

It was Iain who brought her attention back to the discussion.  “I’m afraid you really do no’ understand, Catriona,” he said, his tone gentle and patient.  Her eyebrows raised, Catriona watched as Iain struggled to find the words he needed.  “We ken you saddled the horse for Elizabeth,” he added, his words slow and deliberate.  “There are those here who think you may have had reason to do Elizabeth harm.”

Catriona leapt to her feet, stepping toward her brother before she could stop herself.  “Surely you canna believe such foolishness, Iain,” she pleaded, studying his pale amber eyes for any sign of censure.  “I had no reason to wish ill for Elizabeth – none at all.”

Iain reached forward, grasping his sister about the arms and drawing her closer, his words little more than a whisper.  “It is true that I ken of no ill will between Elizabeth and yerself, Catriona, but Calum seems to think differently.”  She pulled her eyes from Iain’s earnest face, and instead focused on Calum’s cold, deadly stare.

“There’s little reason for you to pretend innocence any longer, Catriona,” Calum gloated, lazily walking across the room and lowering his long, lean frame into a comfortable chair.  Clearly, he was enjoying the attention he was receiving, and was using the moment to its full advantage.  “You see, I ken of yer fascination for Elizabeth’s betrothed, and of yer pitiful attempts to woo the man.  It is no secret you have feelings for Forbes, and you resented that he preferred yer sister.”  Calum snorted indignantly as he shot the men a contemptuous glare.  “In truth, it would seem that yer family were the only ones in the dark.”  Catriona watched the Earl flinch at the deliberate insult, but neither man interrupted Calum’s speech.

“Truth be told, I would no’ have thought a wee lass to be capable of such a thing.  With the twist of a sharp knife, you’ve managed to rid yerself of a sister who was everything you are no’.  And you made sure Forbes would be forced to marry you, or lose the generous dowry yer da has offered for the marriage alliance.  Nay, I would no’ have believed you capable of such cruelty, but the facts speak for themselves.”

Frantically, Catriona looked to her father and brother, searching for some sign of support.  Instead, all she saw was despair and defeat reflected in their devastated expressions.  Suddenly indignant at their lack of support, she shrugged Iain’s arm off her shoulder and turned to face Calum, her body shaking with barely contained fury.  “If you think I would do aught to harm my sister, yer addled.  I haven’t done any wrong, and I will no’ stand here and be insulted by you.”

Catriona whipped around, struggling to gather her thoughts as she paced the length of the room.  “I will no’ let you put my family through any more grief with these ridiculous claims.  We’ve been through enough already.”  The strength of her own words surprised Catriona, spoken as they were in the heat of anger, but she knew she could not back down or show any sign of weakness.  She took a deep breath to calm herself before continuing in a voice so quiet that the men had to strain to hear her.  “I give you my word I did naught to harm my sister.  I want this subject dropped.  Immediately.”

Catriona glared at Calum, her fear vanquished, replaced by a sense of outrage.  It was obvious to her that he cared for little more than implicating her in a crime she didn’t commit – a crime that might never have even taken place.

The Earl’s frustrated sigh could be heard across the room.  Slowly pulling himself out of his chair, he walked over to his daughter, his face a mask of pain and fatigue.  “It is no’ as simple as that, Catriona.  Calum has called the sheriff in from Banff to look into the matter,” he said almost apologetically, peering down into Catriona’s pale face.  “I’m afraid it’s too late now.  It’ll be in the hands of the authorities by morning.”  Seafield lowered his voice, his tone pleading as he took his daughter’s hand in his own.  “Why did you not tell me sooner, Catriona?  If you had only told me the truth, maybe we could have avoided this…”

The sting of this final insult shattered the thin thread of control Catriona had managed to maintain.  Furiously she shook her head in denial, drawing back from her father in fury.  “I’m no’ asking you to ignore aught, da!  If what happened to Elizabeth was more than an accident, I want to see justice done as much as anyone else.  But I’m telling you I had naught to do with it.  Is that so hard for you to believe?” she cried, her voice reaching a frantic pitch.

Calum’s snort of contempt interrupted her, and sent her emotions spinning out of control.  Whirling about to face him, she slapped him soundly across the face before he had time to react.  “How dare you imply I had aught to do with this?  You – of all people – are hardly in a position to judge me!”  His face flushed with anger, Calum stood as still as a statue as he clenched his hands in rage.  Catriona turned again to face her father, his arm now braced on the table for support, defeat clearly etched in his posture.

Her temper barely in check, she continued her attack.  “I probably should have told you this sooner, but I did no’ want to upset you or mother.  Several weeks ago I stumbled upon Elizabeth and Calum in the stables.  I was bringing Lily in after a ride when I found them together in an empty stall.  Need I elaborate?”  she asked, her sarcastic tone betraying the hurt she felt.

The look of horror in her father’s eyes as he absorbed her words was almost enough to undo her.  “I’m sorry, da – I really am.  I did no’ want you to find out about this, but you need to ken Calum canna be trusted.”

A flicker of hope flashed in her father’s eyes before it was extinguished, replaced with a cold detachment.  The Earl drew himself to his full height, moving so close to his daughter that she was forced to look up into his tense features.  “That’s exactly what Calum said you would tell us,” he said before he turned his back on his daughter.  “He warned us you would try to deflect the blame from yerself.  That I ne’er saw this evil in you before is something for which I shall ne’er forgive myself.”