“Everything,” Connell whispered, resting his hands against the desk, feeling the bite of McCormick’s ring digging into his palm. “If ye can marry a lying traitor, then I must assume that yer his accomplice.”
Elsy tossed back her head, laughing bitterly while slowly turning around. “His accomplice,” she repeated, doubling over as her laugher grew louder. “Ye foolish, foolish man.” She gasped, her laughter turning into sobs. “Why are ye acting this way? I don’t understand!”
“What is there not to understand?” Connell asked, grasping the garnet ring, finding the power to be cruel to her by holding the trinket in his palm. “Ye know why yer here. I have kept naething from ye. Now, tell me what ye know of yer husband’s affairs with England and perhaps I will let ye go.”
Elsy gasped, struggling to straighten herself. Hair stuck to her face. The fury in her gaze made his heart falter. “I have done naething, Connell. I know naething.”
“Ye must know something.” Connell’s grasp on the ring tightened and he ground his teeth, ignoring the pain shooting through his hand. “My patience is wearing thin, Elsy. If ye don’t at least give me something, my men will get it out of ye themselves.”
Elsy’s eyes widened. She jutted out her chin, crossing her arms. He could see her fear in the way her fingers dug into her skin, the way her eyes gleamed in the light. “What’s that supposed to mean, Connell?”
Connell held her stare, the words struggling on the tip of his tongue. Even he couldn’t imagine what they would do to her. Knowing they would harm her made his insides twist, his shoulders tense. But she had to know something. She was keeping something from him. He could feel it in his bones, in the way she looked at him.
McCormick must have told her something.
“Tell me Connell,” she said, a bitter smile on her lips. “What will ye have them do to me for yer answers?”
Connell’s gaze fell to the floor, and he swallowed the bile beginning to rise as he thought of all the ways his men would harm Elsy. “They will hurt ye,” he whispered. “They will hurt ye, Elsy, and that is why ye must stop this facade and tell me all ye know.”
“But I know naething, Connell.”
Connell shook his head. He couldn’t be around her any longer. Being near her hurt, made him worry about all the terrible things that could be done to her, all the things she shared with McCormick over the years. He ached to be near her, and yet he needed his revenge.
“Brann!” he shouted while turning his back to her.
“Connell,” he heard Elsy say as the door creaked open.
He turned at the feeling of her hand on his elbow, his heart swelling at the tears in her eyes.
“Please, don’t do this,” she whispered while shaking her head. “Yer a good man. I know ye are. Ye don’t have to do this. I still-- We could still--” she paused, her words lingering between him.
Connell shook his head. “Nae, we can’t, Elsy.” He looked to Brann, finding the boy frowning as he gazed between them. “Ye can take her back to her rooms.”
“Connell--”
Before she could touch him again, Connell grabbed her hands, gently yet sternly, as he scowled at her. “Stop, Elsy. Think of yer life. Ye don’t have to keep McCormick’s secrets any longer.”
Tears slipped down Elsy’s cheeks. She shook her head as she stared up at him.
“Ye have until tomorrow morn. I will expect answers then.”
Connell watched as Brann gently guided Elsy out of the room. She was struggling to hold back her cries. He knew he hurt her, but he didn’t want any harm to come her way. Glenton wanted answers and so did Connell. They had given up too much for this moment. Not even his feelings for Elsy could get in the way.
Connell dropped into his seat, throwing McCormick’s ring onto the table. He scowled at the slight trickle of blood streaking his palm. As much as he hated to admit it, even if she was McCormick’s widow, he still cared for her, more than he should. Connell pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the ache in his shoulders, in his heart.
“Whatever am I going to do,” he whispered to the silence around him.
