Page 46 of The Beastly Earl

“And you’ve become quite ill-tempered.” Bryce reached for his wine glass and eyed his cousin with curiosity. “I imagine Ethan and Iain would agree with me.”

Louisa looked across the table at the Ethan MacLean and Iain Drummond who had arrived unexpectedly on the doorstep with Ewan’s cousin. For whatever reason, Lady Argaty had been blatantly gleeful when her son had walked into the salon before dinner. A dark scowl of displeasure had quickly replaced his surprise as he’d greeted the three men. The scornful delight on the Countess’s face had only darkened Ewan’s features that much more.

The open dislike between mother and son had either gone unnoticed by the dinner guests or they’d politely not acknowledged it. All three men had greeted Ewan with enthusiastic pleasure, but confusion had clouded their features at the abrupt welcome they’d received in return.

“I’d not go so far as to call you sullen, Ewan, but you have become somewhat of a hermit,” Ethan said quietly. “This is the first time we’ve been to the Keep since your return from the Sudan a year ago.”

“I was gone a long time. I’ve been busy with estate matters.” At Ewan’s response, Lady Argaty sniffed with derisive amusement but remained silent.

“So busy you forgot old friends?” Ethan asked.

At the quiet rebuke, Ewan’s hand froze in midair. Slowly, he laid the fork speared with a piece of venison on his plate. Angry tension rolled off of him, as he pinned an icy glare on his childhood friend. Beneath his anger, Louisa sensed a deep pain and despair in him. It made her heart ache.

“People change. If you find fault with my company or the meal, you do not have to stay.” Ewan’s sharp reply, made Ethan raise his eyebrows in astonishment as he eyed his companions with a perplexed expression. Seated on Ewan’s left and directly across from Louisa, Iain released a chuckle of amusement.

“I highly doubt Ethan will leave the table without a piece of Mrs. Selkirk’s Dundee cake, Ewan.” Iain shook his head. “Don’t you remember the time he stole one of Mrs. Selkirk’s cakes fresh out of her oven? We ate like kings that day out on the moor.”

For a moment, Louisa thought Ewan might not answer his childhood friend, but the dark, forbidding expression on his face slowly ebbed away before he nodded. He relaxed back into his chair as a small smile twisted his mouth.

“I remember,” Ewan said gruffly.

When he didn’t say anything else, Iain looked across the table at Louisa. Open admiration on his handsome features, Iain Drummond smiled at her.

“Tell me, Mrs. Morehouse. How did a woman as lovely as you come to be in the employ of the surly master of Argaty Keep?”

“Ewan found her out on the moor in the middle of a storm. Although how she came to be there is a wild tale, indeed.” Disdain plainly visible on her face, the dowager countess eyed Louisa with acerbic disapproval.

“Wild tale, Mother?” There was a dark edge to Ewan’s words as he narrowed his gaze at the silver-haired woman. The note of steel in his voice seemed to be a veiled warning for his mother to guard her words. It warmed Louisa's heart to think he'd been subtly defending her in the face of his mother’s open hostility.

“A broken down wagon, an injured driver, and a runaway horse? Reckless behavior for a mature woman now employed to care for your child.”

Malicious amusement filled the woman's voice. The manner in which she emphasized her reference to Ross made Ewan grow rigid in his chair. Fury rolled off of him, and his rage was a tangible sensation racing over Louisa's skin. Despite the strength of his wrath, he looked as if he was dealing with a bothersome bug.

But his blue-gray eye was dark with virulent hostility as he studied his mother seated at the opposite end of the table. The silent exchange between the two made Louisa wince at how dull-witted she’d been not to realize Lady Argaty would know Ross wasn’t Ewan’s son.

When he didn't reply to her comment, Ewan's mother shifted her attention to Louisa. Venomous glee reflected in her smile, the dowager's disbelief as to Louisa's story was unmistakably obvious.

“Quite the adventure, wouldn’t you agree, Mrs. Morehouse?”

“A most unpleasant one, my lady. I’m fortunate Lord Argaty found me, or I would have died that night,” Louisa said through clenched teeth. The only pleasure the woman seemed to find in life was to criticize and humiliate others with her viper tongue.

“The moors at night are no longer safe for man, woman, or beast,” Iain said grimly. At his friend’s comment, Ewan’s forehead creased in a frown as he set his wine glass back on the table.

“What makes you say that?”

“You’ve not heard what happened to Rhona MacLaren?” Iain arched his eyebrows in surprise before his features became dark and grim. “Her body was discovered on the moor just off the Doune Road yesterday. I’ll spare the ladies the lurid details, but her death had to have been an agonizing one.”

The instant Iain’s words filtered their way into her consciousness, Louisa’s stomach lurched in a sickening manner as she remembered the woman’s screams from her vision. In the next breath, she knew who was responsible. The boy. The an dara sealladh had shown her enough to convince her the boy was responsible for the girl’s murder. But how was that possible?

The memory of the child mutilating the rabbit tried to force its way into her head, but she pushed it back into the grave it had risen from. Nothing about her visions made sense. How could a small child murder an adult? The more important question was whether she should tell Ewan what she'd seen. In the next breath she realized there was nothing to tell. If she couldn’t make sense of the an dara sealladh, it would do little good to share her visions with Ewan. Beside her, Bryce cleared his throat.

“Rhona’s death was remarkably similar to the manner in which Maggie Graham was murdered.” The troubled note in Bryce’s voice emphasized the worried look on his face.

“Wallace Graham’s youngest daughter, Maggie? Murdered?” There was a stunned note of disbelief in Ewan’s voice that made Bryce bob his head.

“That’s right. I forgot. It happened a month or two before you returned from the Sudan. Graham’s oldest son found her body in almost the exact same spot they found Rhona.” Bryce frowned. “Maggie was a sweet girl. They never found the ba—the man who killed her.”

“There were no suspects at all?”