Lachlan laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “Let’s take a minute to think about this,” he said in a relaxed tone. “Anyone could have stolen the key.”
Angus let go of Onora’s wrist, backed away and crossed to the other side of the room. Resting his hands on his hips, he bowed his head.
His temper was getting the better of him. He knew it. Lachlan was right. Neither the cabinet nor the chest was locked. Anyone could have come in and taken it. And he was sure to have many enemies bent on revenge. He’d killed a number of MacEwens during the invasion. Frankly, it was astonishing to him that there had not been an attempt on his life before now.
He turned and faced them both. Lachlan was standing with his arm out, handing a robe to Onora.
Angus realized suddenly that for the first time in his life, he had let his passion for a woman take precedence over his desire to fight and defend. When he was with Gwendolen, the whole world seemed to disappear into quiet waves of sensation, and nothing existed for him outside the pleasure they experienced together.
What astounded him most of all, however, was the fact that he had no desire to reverse it. All he wanted to do at this moment was use every skill and talent he possessed to discover who was behind this murderous attempt and ensure it never happened again—because nothing mattered to him more than Gwendolen’s safety, especially now that she could be carrying his child. The drive to protect her was consuming him like a fever, and perhaps that was the most dangerous threat of all.
***
Late the next morning, Onora knocked on Gwendolen’s door. Gwendolen invited her in and sent her maid down to the kitchen to bring back a light lunch.
“What is the latest news?” Gwendolen asked.
Onora sat down. “Angus and Lachlan both believe that Gordon MacEwen is the most likely suspect behind the assassination attempt, and I must say I concur.”
Gwendolen sat down as well, and digested this news with concern. “Did you confess that you and Gordon were lovers?”
“Aye.” Her mother began to chew on a thumbnail. “But they already knew it.”
“How?”
She shifted uncomfortably and waved a dismissive hand through the air. “Oh, I might have said one or two things about it to Lachlan. I can’t remember. We’ve been flirting for the past few weeks, and I seem to consume a lot of wine when I am in the same room with him. At least I think it’s the wine that makes me so giddy.” She shook her head. “But that is another matter. Your husband questioned me relentlessly this morning. He is positively ruthless. I must look a fright.” She stood up, moved to the looking glass, and pinched her cheeks.
“You look fine, Mother. And yes, my husband is ruthless. That should come as no surprise to you. It’s why everyone fears him, and why they do exactly what he tells them to do, the very second he commands it.”
“Evenyou?” Onora swung around and regarded her with accusation.
For some strange reason, Gwendolen was overcome by a ridiculous urge to laugh. “Iwantto do what he asks,” she replied. “Not out of fear, but out of loyalty. I know you wanted me to find a way to wield power over him, but it is the complete opposite between us. He has power overme,but not because I fear him. I want more from him, and I am beginning to believe that I would do anything to please him and win his affections. Anything.”
Her mother gazed toward the window and resumed chewing on her thumbnail. “You don’t need to explain it, Gwendolen. I understand.” She cleared her throat. “Do you have anything to drink in here? Whisky perhaps?”
Gwendolen noticed that her mother’s hands were shaking. She went to pour a dram from the decanter on the table, then returned and handed it to her. “Did he hurt you?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just…” She took a deep swig from the glass. “Suddenly I feel as if my world is spinning out of control. Nothing is the same as it was before the MacDonalds invaded. I have lost the powers I once had, and I feel confused and absentminded half the time.” She looked away. “I am afraid I may be going a little mad.”
“It’s because of Lachlan,” Gwendolen bluntly said. “You’re falling in love with him.”
Onora stared at her dubiously, then turned away. “No, I am not. He is far too young for me, and I am no fool. But this whole situation…” She poured herself another drink and swallowed it in a single gulp. “Your husband is a very frightening man, Gwendolen. There is something cold in his eyes. I half expected him to slit my throat this morning, without the slightest warning.”
Gwendolen sat down. “I am sure he wouldn’t do that.”
But was she really sure? She had seen that look herself—that brutal, murderous contempt in his eyes. They could go from hot to cold in an instant.
When her mother finally seemed to regain her composure, she sat down also, and leaned back in the chair. “Gordon was implicated by the fact that he was the only person besides my personal maid who knew of the key’s location. He denied any involvement of course, but he’s being held nonetheless. They’ve locked up my maid, as well. Poor, sweet Madge. She’s frightened out of her wits, and I cannot blame her. Something needs to be done, Gwendolen, but I was in such a hurry to escape the interrogation…”
“I will speak to Angus about it,” she promised, “and ask if he will consider releasing her.” Gwendolen paused. “Unless you think that she—”
“Oh, good gracious, no. Madge? She would never go behind my back to steal a key, or anything else for that matter. She is as loyal as they come.”
“Not even if Gordon forced her, or bribed her?”
Onora considered it for a moment, then chewed on her thumbnail again. “I suppose one never truly knows who can be trusted. These are desperate times.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
