Page 114 of The Texan Duke
“You made sure the statue fell, too, didn’t you? I saw the chisel marks.”
“Why would I do such a thing?” Lara asked.
“For the same reason you played the White Lady.”
Now that was interesting.
His cousin sat back against the sofa, her face arranged in an expression he could only consider as contemptuous. He’d met a few people with the same demeanor, but they’d been from the South, and their attitudes had changed in the face of the total destruction they’d endured.
He had a feeling, however, that Lara would retain her disdain for others regardless of her circumstances.
Some people did. They were brought up to believe that they were better than others and that opinion never changed.
“Are you daft?” Lara said. “I never pretended to be the White Lady.”
“You have a white cloak. A new one with rabbit fur on the hood. It would look just like a ghostly figure when seen from a distance.”
“I didn’t.”
Elsbeth took a deep breath. “Are you going to say that you didn’t shoot at Connor? Or push the statue over?”
In his own family, if one of his sisters had done something wrong, the other four would have offered various excuses for her behavior, but none of his sisters had ever tried to kill anyone. Still, no one said a word in Lara’s defense.
Anise and Muira were looking at Lara with a sort of fascinated repugnance. His aunt was watching Elsbeth, but instead of the look he expected—active dislike—her expression was neutral. That might have had something to do with Sam, who was still holding her hand.
“Why Lara?” he asked. “Why not Felix?”
“Perhaps it’s because Lara’s going to have a child.”
Again, he couldn’t help but compare the families. If that announcement had been made among his sisters—and it had been, numerous times—they would have rushed to embrace the soon-to-be mother. He had enough nieces and nephews that they would never run out of ranch hands.
In this case, however, none of the other women said a word. It was Felix’s reaction that surprised him the most. Evidently, the man hadn’t known that he was about to be a father. He stared at his wife wide-eyed.
“Was it you?” Connor asked his cousin.
To Lara’s credit, she didn’t look away. Yet she didn’t rush to admit what she’d done.
“It was her,” Elsbeth said. “Her child, if it’s a boy, would become duke if something happened to you.”
Connor didn’t want to be duke, but he wasn’t going to stand by and let someone try to kill him because of the title, either.
He didn’t even bother asking if that was enough to make his cousin act as she had. To this group, titles were important. They might be the most important thing about a person. Not who he was or what he wanted from life, but the label circumstance or an accident of birth had slapped on him.
It was the single biggest difference between the two families, and because of it, he didn’t think there could ever be any true relationship between them.
He couldn’t wait to get home.
“I know you’re all for sending her to the calaboose, Connor,” Sam said. “I’m asking for a little mercy.”
Once again, his eyes met Sam’s. He wasn’t going to remain in Scotland, but he already knew Sam’s plans.
“What’s a calaboose?” Elsbeth asked.
“I think you call it a jail,” Sam said.
“Good heavens.” Rhona looked at Connor, her eyes wide. “You can’t send a member of the family to jail.”
“One member of the family shouldn’t try to kill another one, Aunt.”
