Page 64 of The Scot Who Loved Her

“He’s throwing a party. This was the perfect night for an exchange.”

Malcolm shifted on his horse, sensing the pistol at his hip and itching to pull it. “A party?”

“Aye.” Thirlestane didn’t explain, and Malcolm didn’t care to ask since it was he who’d arranged it.

But the more time that passed with them staring at one another, the more it became obvious that it was taking an awfully long time for the other rider to come back.

A sound from a crop of rocks above them had Malcolm turning in time to see a fiery ball hurtling straight toward them. He and Lorne jerked their horses out of the way as a glass bottle shattered on the pebble beach, and flames exploded upward. The heat of the explosion warmed him but didn’t singe. What the bloody hell?

Thirlestane grabbed that moment of distraction to turn his horse, along with his accomplice, and take off. He’d likely figured out if he were meeting Malcolm, he was about to be taken down. But that light of fire had been enough of a signal to W and the rest of the crew to swarm, and within seconds, the three criminals were surrounded by armed men, tugged down from their horses and their hands shackled.

Malcolm dismounted and approached them, yanking off their hoods. Thirlestane glared at him, seething. Marian too. The third rider was another young woman, perhaps the maid’s cousin?

“Marie?” Malcolm asked on a hunch, recalling the name from Olivia’s maid, Elaine.

In answer—which he assumed to be the affirmative—she spat in his direction, aiming for his face, but missed. Malcolm tsked and shook his head.

“That’s a nasty habit,” he muttered. Then looking at Olivia’s sister, he said with a frown, “And Marian…Olivia is going to be so disappointed.”

“What makes you think I care what that spoiled brat thinks?”

“I do no’ remember saying I thought ye cared.” He shrugged. “Ye’re all under arrest for treason. Ye’ll be tried, found guilty since the evidence against ye is solid. Ye’ll be lucky if ye’re no’ hanged, though ’tis no’ likely. But for ye, Marian, ’haps the best fate for ye, is to be in the asylum where ye belong?”

“I never belonged there. I made the whole thing up.”

“The motives of a madwoman, clearly.”

“I assure you I’m perfectly sane.”

“So ye’d rather be hanged?”

She bared her teeth at him and growled.

“I’m sure if ye inform the judge, he’ll let ye choose your fate.” Sarcasm melted from Malcolm’s tone. There was a mandatory punishment of death for high treason. “Tell me this, why did ye do it?”

Thirlestane growled. “Don’t say a word.”

Marian rolled her eyes in Thirlestane’s direction as if he were the stupidest man she’d ever met. And maybe he was. From where Malcolm was sitting, it wasn’t looking too good for him. In the case of Lorne’s sister-in-law, she had been manipulated, angry, fueled by bitterness and a thirst for revenge. But Marian…she just seemed to like the power.

“Because I’m a bad egg.” A wide, cruel smile split her face, and for a brief moment, he could see how easily she’d been able to manipulate everyone into thinking she was mad. “Because Icould.”

Malcolm nodded, wanting to ask her to explain. But somehow, watching the transformation on her face, he realized he’d never get more out of her than that. In his line of work, there was one thing he’d learned, and that was that sometimes, bad people did bad things because they wanted to. Because it was their desire to wreak havoc—because they liked the feeling of power that they got out of it. They liked to watch others suffer. For no other reason than because they could, and that was what she’d just said, wasn’t it? When people spoke their truth, sometimes you had to believe them.

And he thought, in this case, Marian fit that bill perfectly.

It was fascinating to him that Viscount Helvellyn and his viscountess could have brought two so vastly different daughters into this world.

But what he was really worried about was confirming with Olivia that her sister was a criminal. The mastermind behind all of this. And while Olivia had been worried sick for her sister’s safety, Marian had been out here doing everyone harm. He glanced at Lorne. “What is it with the women we love having evil sisters?”

Lorne laughed. “We like to keep it in the family. At least ye do no’ have an evil brother.”

“Fair enough.”

“Good work, Malcolm,” W said, shaking his hand. “You’ll inform the family?”

Malcolm nodded solemnly. How was he going to tell Olivia’s parents in the same breath that he’d arrested one daughter and planned to marry the other? No scenario that he could come up with turned out well.

“See you back at headquarters.” W started to retreat.

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