Page 62 of The Widow Wore Plaid

Something was seriously wrong with his cousin if he believed that. Had brooding about the title all these years led to a kind of lunacy? “What do you mean, Rory?”

“They were brothers.” Rory spoke as though everyone should understand what that meant.

“I know they were. We are cousins because of that.”

“Aye, and so when your father died the title should have gone to my father.” His cousin sounded completely sincere in his claim.

“But that’s not how it works, Rory.” Gareth kept his voice even and soothing. Not that he thought it would help.

“I know it’s not! But it should be.” The bellow could likely be heard for miles. Pray God someone heard it and came to investigate.

Taking a breath, Gareth again tried to soothe the man. “I know it must be frustrating, but there’s nothing can be done about it, Rory.”

“Oh, yes it can.” He aimed the pistol directly at Gareth’s face. “If you die, I can still inherit. That’s the law. I’ll have the title and all the Kinellan lands.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Yes, I will.” Rory spit the words out through gritted teeth and his hand holding the weapon shook. “Father told me on his deathbed that I’d be your heir. Your heir unless you married and had a son. And you haven’t done that. Not yet.” He raised the pistol once more, leveling it at Gareth. “Now you won’t have the chance.”

“We are married.” The only way they were going to escape this madman was to convince him that even if he killed Gareth, he wouldn’t inherit.

“You are not. You just announced your betrothal the other night at the bonfire. Told everyone to come to the wedding.” Rory’s lip curled up in a sneer. “I knew even then you’d never marry. I’d made my plans.”

“Which are as useless as a toad’s ears. Jane and I married in London, long before she came to Castle Kinellan.” A faint gasp behind him and he grasped Jane’s hand. God, he hoped she could spin a tale as well as she could do everything else.

“Then why announce a fake betrothal and wedding? And why didn’t Aunt Pru know about it? The old biddy knows everything else.”

“She did know, but we swore her to secrecy.” Gareth pulled answers out of the air without thought. “I didn’t want her to think Jane an immoral woman when she came to stay at the castle. We have been waiting for our friends to come to the gathering to announce the betrothal and have a proper ceremony before them. But the fact is, she is my wife. And she is pregnant with my child this minute.”

“She is not!” Rory tried to peer around Gareth to catch sight of Jane.

Gareth turned this way and that to keep her concealed and in doing so, grabbed the carry bag and shook it. He only hoped Jane got the message. “Keep away from her, Rory.”

“I’ll kill her first, then.” He swung the pistol wildly, trying to aim it at Jane.

Gareth continued to feint and twist, covering Jane as best he could. “No, you won’t. You’ll have to kill me to get to her, and there’s your one shot. By the time you reload, she’ll have gotten halfway to the castle. Or more likely have killed you with her bare hands.”

Rory stopped his weaving and backed away, eyes wide. “Keep her away from me.”

“Let us go and you won’t have to see her ever again.”

“No.” The pistol was back in Gareth’s face and his heart sank.

The confrontation with Rory had rallied Gareth’s strength for a while, but now it was beginning to wane. Despite all his effort he had to believe that the ultimate outcome for him would be grim indeed.

“Gareth.” Jane’s voice was a breath in his ear as she pressed something cold and hard against his back.

Knowing he now had a weapon at his disposal gave Gareth hope once more. Infused with a new spirit of optimism, his once flagging stamina began to rise. Now they had a fighting chance.

Gareth let his hands drop to his sides once more, then drew them around behind him as though protecting Jane.

She placed the pistol, already cocked, bless her, into his hand.

Now to judge the best time to make his move. “You don’t have to do this, Rory. Walk away and no one gets hurt.”

“It’s too late for that, cousin.” Rory pointed the weapon at Gareth’s chest once more. “Either you die, or I do.”

“Then by all means, let it be you, Rory.” Gareth whipped the pistol around from behind him and fired.