Rory was not sure he liked Lovat giving his wife extravagant compliments any more than he had appreciated him insulting her.
“Trust me,” Lovat said, putting his arm around Rory’s shoulder, “you’ll find these useful qualities in a chieftain’s wife.”
“How is it that ye came to learn all this about my wife?” Rory asked.
“Let’s just say the two of us reached an understanding.” An amused smile played on Lovat’s lips. “A remarkable woman. I wouldn’t want her for an enemy.”
Rory rode home as if the devil was chasing him. He had let his pride blind him. Sybil had learned to maneuver through court politics because her family required her to—and she had to in order to survive. Instead of criticizing her for it, he should appreciate the skills she gained, not the least of which were her quick and acute perceptions about the motives and true nature of others she met.
She had not set out to deceive him about the marriage contract or done it out of spite or cruelty, but because she was in fear for her life. She did not confess sooner because she had not trusted him enough to tell him. After how she had been abandoned by her friends and family, it was no wonder she was slow to trust. He was slow to trust himself, so he should have understood.
She could have kept the secret forever. Instead, when she finally did trust him, she told him the truth. And what had he done? He had shouted and berated her. Insulted and rebuffed her. Used her and made her weep.
He spurred Curan to a gallop. He needed to get home to Sybil and try to make things right.
***
Hector drank down another whisky. He was going to skin his clerk at Eilean Donan and then boil him in oil for letting those ledgers out of his hands. As both Catriona and the ledgers had arrived safely at Castle Leod, Duncan had failed to burn them with the house at Killin.
Even if Rory had the ledgers, how in the hell had he figured out the theft Hector had successfully hidden for so many years? Now half of Hector’s own men were eyeing him with questions in their eyes.
He took another drink. The ledgers did not matter. His plans were set in motion. When he was done with Rory, no one in Clan MacKenzie would remember the theft.
It was long after midnight when the bishop, of all people, arrived at his door and interrupted his drinking. Hector eyed the churchman. He was a squirrelly man, physically weak and pompous.
“Good evening to ye,” Hector said. “What brings ye out to see me at such a late hour?”
The bishop smoothed his robes with his long, slender hands. Christ, what man did that?
“I’ve found something I believe will interest you.”
“A young virgin with parents desperate for coin?” Hector laughed.
“I believe you’ll find what I have is far more valuable.” The bishop paused. “I assume you heard of your brother’s request for a papal bull declaring his marriage to Lovat’s daughter valid and the children of the marriage legitimate.”
The bishop had his full attention now. “What do ye know about this papal bull?”
“The request was supported by my predecessor to our cardinal, who, in turn, forwarded it to Rome.”
“Did the pope act on it?”
“He most certainly did,” the bishop said with a thin smile. “The Holy Father granted your brother’s request in all regards.”
“Goddamn it to hell.” Hector slammed his fist on the table. This was the last thing he needed now. It could ruin all his plans. “Do you have it?”
Rory surely did not have it. If he did, he would have waved it from the tower of Castle Leod when he heard the lies Hector spread about not being his father’s true son.
“The papal bull arrived shortly after your brother’s death,” the bishop said. “I delivered it personally to his widow, Lady Agnes, who destroyed it.”
“Why would she do that?”
“She confided in me that she feared it would put her son Rory’s life in greater jeopardy.” The bishop laced his long fingers together. “To be blunt, she believed you’d have him murdered.”
Agnes was as clever as she was beautiful. Hector gulped down the rest of his whisky to dull the old, familiar pain. She should have been his. If she had been, her sons would have been his and they would not have been at cross-purposes.
“She said she would destroy it, and she begged me never to disclose that the petition was ever granted.”
“How much did ye make her pay for your secrecy?” Hector asked.
