“Are ye from the future then, too?”
“What sort of nonsense are you talking?” he asked. “Have you been down here so long you’re delirious?”
That was anothen. After all she’d gone through with Derne, was she to be taken down by a mere opportunist?
She glanced back over her shoulder. “If ye came for the treasure, ye’re going to need some help.”
“I’ve seen the inventory. I cannot wait to see it in reality.” His eyes rounded with anticipation, reflecting the light of his candle.
“You know what’s in there?”
“It’s been my life’s work to find out,” he told her.
“Life’s work? Ye cannae be more than twenty-five.” Plus he was so awkward and shy she never would have guessed this madness lie beneath.
“I’ve many years of knowledge about this place,” Elliot ground out. “Of course, Derne never knew there was a complete listing of the duke’s depository among the first Argyll’s letters. He wouldn’t have, since I was the one who found them. I allowed him to see one regarding the elder Boyce’s commendation for his help in uncovering ‘the ugly truth’ — whatever that was — after a fire that destroyed his mill. Then a small portion of another letter I forged to reveal that there was a map on the necklace. Derne had been here forever and knew everyone. I knew he would figure it out even if he could only guess what was down here.”
His low chuckle showed how proud he was of himself, yet obviously Elliot had never figured out that Derne’s motivation had nothing to do with money.
“What I don’t understand is why Argyll gave over the location of his fortune to a mere miller rather than his own successor in the first place,” he went on. “The duke was old, ill. He knew he didn’t have long to live. Old Boyce could have filled his pockets if he hadn’t died soon after. Instead the only thing he left his son and his family was a necklace.”
The deceased Mr. Boyce, Aila corrected silently. Prior to his death, the miller had managed to reveal a few more details about his role in keeping the truth safe. The truth, she now realized was keeping Derne’s presence a secret and preventing his escape back to his own time. Boyce’s father had been the one to discover who Derne was and prevent him from killing the first duke. His mill had been burned to the ground during the fight that ensued, while Derne had been accused of witchcraft and sentenced to death.
Pity he’d escaped before he was burned at the stake.
As the only other person who’d been aware of Derne’s “witchcraft” — his time travel device — the elder Boyce had been entrusted with its hiding place. Argyll had also rewarded his service with the few trinkets Mr. Boyce had told her about. He hadn’t lied about that. The presence of the physical treasure had been coincidental, something about the first duke not removing it prior to his unexpected death as he’d planned.
“Locked Derne in, did you?” he asked when they reached the door to find the key in the lock. “Can I expect him to charge me the moment the door is opened?”
Aila turned the key as instructed wishing that were the case.
“Boyce didn’t care what might lie beyond this door,” Elliot said with a derisive sneer. “He cared about nothing beyond some nonsense about protecting the truth.” His tone hardened, the words coming in a rush.
Wasn’t it interesting, Aila thought, that in all the years he’d had the key, Boyce had never used it. He’d never inspected the room’s contents, saying the secret he protected was more valuable than any potential wealth.
Elliot continued his rant. “Derne was taking too bloody long trying to coerce him into telling him where it was. If it had been me, I would have tortured him for the truth, or—”
“Poisoned him?” Aila pounced on the revelation. It hadn’t been Derne? “Ye were the one who poisoned the millstone?”
“Once he was dead, I would be free to search his house and the mill for the necklace. Then I would have had the map for myself,” he seethed. “Instead he gave it toyou!”
“He was a kind man. A gentle man who never hurt anyone.”
“My father was a fool!” he spat out, his crisp British accent slipping to reveal a Scots brogue. “He had riches beyond belief at his fingertips. He could have lived like a king.Wecould have all lived like kings!”
Aila stared at him, stunned by the venom in his voice. Boyce’sson?
“He loved ye! Spoke of ye with such affection.”
“If he’d loved me, he would have given me the necklace when I asked. I hated him for it. And he wondered why I left? Well, I showed him.”
Dazed by his confession, she could only shake her head. Had Boyce known the monster his son had turned out to be? “Did he ken ye were here?”
“Ha! If he could hide things, so could I,” he spat. “Now get in there and let me finally see my reward.”
“Och, I dinnae think so!”
* * *
