Chapter 15

CHAPTER15

“She slapped ye, did she nae?” Duncan grinned, as he took a seat opposite Silas.

They were in Silas’s study, far away from the prying eyes and ears of the rest of the household.

“A light smack or two,” Silas confirmed, “but not for any of the reasons you might be suspecting.”

Duncan lounged across the leather chair. “She must’ve had good cause if she struck ye that hard. I can still see a wee flush of red, unless that’s ye blushin’ over the lass like a boy with his first infatuation?”

“That is between me and her,” Silas said pointedly. “Stop getting distracted. You said you had news for me, or was that merely an excuse to try and taunt me? You know I do not bite so easily.”

Duncan’s expression turned serious in the blink of an eye. “Aye, I do have news.” He dragged up the satchel he had brought in with him and pulled a hefty dossier from within. “This came while ye were by the lake. Everything from that private investigator and a note that simply says: I cannae find anythin’ else. It’s the end of the road, Yer Grace. Please accept this as notice of the end of me employment with ye. Apologies that I couldnae do more.”

“He has resigned?” Silas furrowed his brow.

“Aye, it seems so.”

Silas’s lip curled in annoyance. “Have you read the documents he sent? Is there anything of merit within them? Or has he thoroughly rinsed me of coin for no reason whatsoever?”

It was the third private investigator he had employed since his return from hell. The third time they had hit a dead end, leaving him back where he started, with not a single clue about who had kidnapped him, imprisoned him for a year, or why he had been their target.

“There’s somethin’ of interest regardin’ the messenger who smoked ye out of this manor, the night ye were snatched,” Duncan said, selecting a sheet of paper. “The investigator narrowed it down to four potential men, but one went off to war, two are unaccounted for, and the other is… well, he’s dead, Yer Grace.”

Silas nodded. “You suspect the latter one is the messenger?”

“Reeks of someone coverin’ their tracks.” Duncan sat back. “The thing ye have to remember, Silas, is that the person who kidnapped ye dinnae expect ye to escape of yer own accord. Ye set ‘em at a disadvantage, and now they’re scramblin’ to hide what they did, so ye cannae find ‘em.”

Silas poured himself a hearty measure of whiskey. “What I cannot understand is how you have no notion of who it was.”

“We have discussed this,” Duncan replied, a note of warning in his voice.

“You were living not two miles away!”

Duncan rolled his eyes. “I was the gamekeeper. As far as I knew, the keep was empty. Hadnae had a household in it for a decade. I never bothered to wander past the woods, ‘cause there was nay use in it, as far as I was concerned.”

“But you must have seen something. You cannot have been utterly oblivious to people coming and going every fortnight,” Silas urged, though it was an old and tired conversation that always went in the same circles.

“I’ve told ye before and I’ll tell ye again—I saw nothin’. I kept meself to meself. If I saw aught, I assumed it was folks comin’ to look at the keep with the thought of buyin’ it or rentin’ it. I dinnae show meself in case they told me to get off the land, since I wasnae really meant to be there. I inherited the title of gamekeeper from me faither, which came from a Laird who passed without heirs long ago. I was protectin’ me interests.”

Silas muttered a few choice words under his breath. If it were not for Duncan, Silas knew he would not have escaped Scotland alive, but he still found it hard to believe that someone who had been living so close, respectively, did not know anything about his kidnappers. It would always frustrate him, he expected, until the identity of his kidnapper was finally revealed.

“If ye daenae trust me, I can take meself elsewhere,” Duncan said, and not for the first time.

Silas groaned. “Of course I trust you. I just wish you had paid more attention to what was going on around you, is all.”

“I paid enough attention to keep ye hidden and to help ye heal from yer injuries, did I nae?” A flicker of amusement crossed the Scotsman’s ruddy face.

Silas relaxed into a small smile. “And I doubt you shall ever let me forget it.”

“It is annoyin’ that ye keep runnin’ into these walls,” Duncan said a moment later. “I wouldnae have thought it would ever be so hard to find one person, ye ken? I figured we’d have the cretin strung up by their drawers within a month of ye returnin’ home.”

Silas sipped his drink. “As did I.”

“Do ye think they’re goin’ to try and snatch ye again?”

Silas shrugged. “They would be twice as stupid if they did, but I cannot rest easy until the wretch who did this is punished for it. I cannot be at peace until I have vengeance for the year that I spent in the dark, waiting for death.”

Duncan raised his glass. “We’ll find ‘em, Silas.”

“I pray that we do, and soon,” Silas replied darkly, clinking his glass against his friend’s.

Duncan swirled the whisky around, sprawling further across the chair until he was practically horizontal. “This refreshed thirst for vengeance wouldnae have anythin’ to do with the bonny lass ye spent the afternoon alone with, now, would it? That lass with the rosy cheeks and silken hair.”

“I will not bite; I already told you that,” Silas said with a smirk. “And I never lost any of my thirst for vengeance, thank you very much.”

“Aye, but it seems ye’ve a thirst for somethin’ else,” Duncan teased, raising a knowing eyebrow. “I kept that friend of hers away, so ye can thank me for that an’ all. Thought ye might appreciate some time by yerselves, for whatever it is ye fancy English gentlemen like to do when ye’re alone with fair lasses.”

Silas chuckled faintly. “I did wonder where you had gone. I know you can make that ride in less than ten minutes. When you did not appear, I suspected there was some mischief afoot.”

“I swear that Nora lass was minutes away from kickin’ me in the shins… or a little higher up. I havenae seen rage like that in a lass in a long while, nae since me maither was alive.” Duncan snorted, clearly pleased with himself.

Silas sighed contentedly. “We have reached an… agreement. A satisfying one.”

“Is that so, eh?” Duncan leaned forward, his eyes alight. “Tell me everythin’. I want the details. Indeed, ye owe them to me, since ye willnae allow me to have a life of me own to go chasin’ lasses of me own accord.”

Silas grinned. “I have never once forbidden you from having a life of your own, or from chasing whatever woman takes your fancy. It is hardly my fault that there are only servants and my mother at this estate.”

“Nay, but it’s yer fault that ye daenae employ more young, bonny lasses who daenae turn up their noses at a Scotsman,” Duncan complained, clicking his fingers. “Now, out with it. Tell me everythin’ of yer excursion by the lake. All the particulars.”

But Silas would not. What had happened in the shade of the willow tree was sacred, and no one was more surprised than him to discover that was how he felt about it. Every time he remembered the moment, a light burst inside his chest, filling that normally uneasy part of him with warmth and peace.

And now, she has made it forbidden. What she, perhaps, did not realize was that forbidding it only made him want it more. By the time the week was over, he would have either made her cross out that particular rule, or he was going to be half mad with desire, craving the one thing he could not have.

Duncan whistled. “Oi, cease yer reminiscin’ and speak it aloud instead!”

As if summoned by Silas’s silent command, a knock came at the study door. Without awaiting permission to enter, Mr. Goldsmith poked his head around and announced, “Your Grace, your latest guests are settling into their chambers, and have asked what time they will be expected at dinner?”

“Latest guests?” Silas put on a tone of annoyance. “Why was I not informed of their arrival?”

The butler paled. “I… did not think you wanted to be disturbed.”

“Well, please do consult me before attempting to pre-empt my wishes,” Silas said coolly. “Who has arrived?”

“The Duke and Duchess of Lymington.”

Silas cracked a smile. “Have the duke sent to the garden room and bring a few bottles of my best liquor. I intend to begin tonight’s revels early.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” The butler bowed his head. “Would you also like cigars?”

Silas’s smile vanished. “No.”

“Very good, Your Grace.”

With that, the butler withdrew, leaving Silas to try to rediscover his celebratory mood.

“You still daenae care for cigars?” Duncan asked.

Silas shuddered in his chair. “I doubt I shall ever be able to bear the smell again.”

Whenever he caught a whiff of that acrid tang, he was transported back to a dingy, dismal cell without windows, listening to the cruel laughter of a stranger with no face, hidden just out of sight. The man who had kidnapped him had starved him, beaten him, and might have killed him if he had not escaped.

And in every smoking room he entered, smelling that painfully familiar aroma, he could never shake the most chilling sensation that his captor was watching, that his captor was among the haze somewhere, waiting for a second chance to finish what he had started.