Page 62 of The Scot Who Loved Her

Olivia shook her head. “That’s impossible.” Why would Marian be with the shooter in the boathouse?

“She looked just like ye, and that maggot called her Marian.”

“But…she’s…” No words came to her, and Olivia felt as if she were being strangled. “No, you’re wrong. Marian is sick. Whoever that bad man was, he must have taken her against her will. There’s no other reason.”

“They were kissing. If she was ever under duress, she is no’ anymore. In fact, she was ordering the man about.”

Olivia’s knees felt suddenly weak, and she wobbled on her feet. She shook her head, unable to make sense of what he was telling her. “This can’t be true.”

“I would no’ lie to ye, lass. Just as I know ye would no’ lie to me.”

Olivia stared into his eyes, searching for any signs that he was trying to pull the wool over her eyes and seeing none. Sincerity emanated from the depths of his gaze. But how could this be? Marian was sick. Marian was in an asylum. Elaine’s cousin had written to them about her. They had updates constantly…

Olivia tugged at her gown, attempting to loosen the tightness around her chest, but the gown was not tight—it was her stays. She needed out of them. Needed to return to her room. Wanted to talk to Elaine’s cousin herself.

“Do ye happen to know Thirlestane’s given name?” he asked.

Olivia scrunched up her nose, trying to remember what it was. “Angus, I think? Angus Anderson.”

“A.A.” Malcolm grinned the look of a fox who’d cornered its prey. “He is the culprit. The man who just shot at us was Thirlestane.”

Olivia’s hand covered her mouth in pure shock.

“I should never have distrusted ye,” Malcolm said. “Ye mean so much…to me. Ye’ve broken through the barrier I held around myself. And I admire ye most ardently, Olivia. I need ye to know I never intended to hurt ye in all this. Tonight, I must deal with this. And then I’ll have to go to Edinburgh, possibly London. But I’ll return, I promise.”

She glanced up at him, tears of frustration and confusion swirling in her eyes.

“You’re driving me mad, Malcolm. You’ve just obliterated my world and given me what I wanted all at the same time. You cannot leave me here in pieces.” Her hands started to tremble, and one emotion after another jumbled up inside her.

“Nay, I will no’ leave ye, lass. But I can no’ take ye with me either. ’Tis too dangerous.”

“But what if you don’t come back?” She couldn’t imagine a world in which Malcolm wasn’t in it.

“I promise I will.”

“Ask for my hand, Malcolm. Ask me to be your wife. Give me something to hold on to. Even if it comes to nothing, let me, for one evening, believe we might have had a future. We need not marry in the end if you don’t want to.”

“Och, lass. I’ll no’ leave ye simply to believe for one night.” He tugged her against him, his hands framing her face. “I do want to marry ye. I would have ye by my side all the days of my life. I love ye.”

And when he kissed her, she knew he truly meant it.

16

The hour was reaching midnight, and the blood in Malcolm’s veins was thrumming in anticipation. The thrill of the hunt and the culminating victory were soon to be his. Thirlestane had blended so well into society and planned it out perfectly to make Viscount Helvellyn his scapegoat.

After the events in the orangery, Malcolm had pulled Viscount Helvellyn aside, kept his thumb on the man’s wrist to sense whether his pulse was shifting as he lied. But besides outrage, the man had come out clean. Surprising, honestly. But given how well Thirlestane had planned things, without having done that pulse test, Helvellyn would have gone down.

As for Thirlestane, the pieces fell beautifully into place now that Malcolm had discovered his identity and part in all of it. He’d been in Edinburgh when Malcolm first discovered the manifesto at the shipyard. Had showed up at Helvellyn’s estate in Jedburgh in a hurry, saying he was sorry for being late to the hunt he’d not been invited to. And it had been Thirlestane who’d come across Malcolm in the forest—Olivia even mentioned seeing the figure of someone when she’d been stalking in the boar.

It was the first time Malcolm had been led astray in a case, but he was glad that it had been resolved so quickly. And he blamed his heart for the whole debacle. Because if he’d not been so enamored with Olivia, he might have noticed from the start that Helvellyn was being set up, or at least sooner than now.

How Marian played into things was still a mystery, including how she’d been able to get Thirlestane to do everything for her and why she would want to frame her father to take the fall.

Though he and Olivia had questioned Elaine, she’d had no idea that her cousin had been lying to her in all her letters—or telling half-truths at any rate.

Malcolm had informed W of the case’s progression, and a dispatch had been sent to find the young asylum worker for questioning.

But, if she had been paid to lead the family to believe Marian was still within its walls, the lass was probably long gone by now.

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