The only undamaged area of his face appeared to be his eyes. Devlin had missed them completely. But Lachlan, or someone, had removed his shirt to sleep, and with the covers now dropped to his waist, the damage to his chest and stomach area was also revealed. With that mass of dark bruises, he could count himself very lucky indeed if he didn’t have a few cracked ribs.
“If the look of him distresses you, m’dear, you need only leave the room,” Devlin said behind her. “There’s no reason for you to be here—”
“Not a’tall,” Megan cut in, steeling herself to continue briskly, “Are you awake enough to answer to the charges you’ve been accused of, MacGregor?”
“Nay, I’ll be partaking of that cold water, if you dinna mind giving me a moment—”
“You haven’t…begun yet…have you?” Kimberly huffed from the doorway.
She was completely out of breath. As soon as she realized the duke and duchess had disappeared from the gathering below, she had raced all the way upstairs. She took a deep breath now before continuing, “You were supposed to inform me when you were ready to question him, Your Grace. I believe I told you I wished to be present.”
Devlin sighed. “Lady Kimberly, there is absolutely no reason for you to be present—”
“Nonetheless, I must insist. After the treatment I witnessed him receiving this morning,someoneshould be here who is impartial.”
“Your defense can hardly be considered impartial,” Devlin replied.
Kimberly gasped at that. “I am not defending him. I merely pointed out—”
“Enough!”
It was Lachlan who interrupted, and so loudly, even he winced at his tone. But he’d stood up beside the bed, and looked quite furious, and that fury was directed straight at the Duke of Wrothston.
“Oh, God,” said Kimberly.
“You’ve roused me from my sleep twice now,” he continued more moderately in tone, if just as angrily, “beat me senseless, and left me locked in this room wi’out sustenance the whole day long. So I’m thinking you’ll be answering my questions, St. James, and you’ll be starting wi’ what the blasted hell I’m being accused of.”
“That has already been—” Devlin began.
“Repeat it, mon,” Lachlan interrupted again, a stony glint in his light green eyes. “I wouldna be asking if I had the memory of it, would I now?”
Devlin scowled for a moment, but then nodded, if curtly. “Very well, I have three very valuable missing horses, and a groom who heard your voice in the stable just prior to being rendered unconscious.”
“Myvoice?”
“Now just a minute,” Kimberly inserted. “The duchess said it was merely a Scots brogue that had been heard, and that hardly—”
“Lady Kimberly, I appreciate your concern for justice,” Lachlan said. “But if you please, would you be letting me do the questioning?”
Put so gently, it would be churlish of her to refuse. She nodded, without meeting his eyes. She was, in fact, still mortified over her own behavior that morning. To have fallen asleep on him, literallyonhim…
Lachlan noted her pink cheeks and guessed the cause. When she had finally awakened in his arms, she had been so embarrassed that she had fled the room with a few mumbled excuses that he hadn’t caught. He had seriously thought about going after her, until he remembered the guards at the door. So he’d gone back to sleep himself, and, apparently, slept the day through.
But he was finally going to have this bizarre incident explained to his satisfaction. He addressed the duke again, asking, “What the lady just said, is that true?”
“That was the young man’s accounting when he first recovered this morning and was still somewhat muddled from the blow he received, and that was sufficient evidence forme,” Devlin replied. “However, he has since been requestioned thoroughly about it and has put a name to the voice he heard—yours, MacGregor.”
“Och, now, I’ve ne’er met the mon,” Lachlan said, “but he knows me so well he can recognize my voice, is that what you’re telling me?”
“He doesn’t claim to have met you either, MacGregor, but he knows you by sight. You’re bloody well hard to miss. And he’s heard you speak before.”
“Now that’s interesting,” Lachlan pointed out. “When I’m no’ in the habit of talking tae the grooms, at least your English ones, since I can barely understand them and their local dialects.”
Kimberly, apparently, was the only one who found that amusing, considering Lachlan’s own Scots brogue. She had to actually struggle to keep the serious look that everyone else was wearing.
But Lachlan hadn’t finished his remarks. “So let me see if I have this right, St. James. You’re accusing me of bludgeoning your stableman and making off with three of your prize stock?”
“Exactly.”
