The Heiress Bride - Catherine Coulter [142]
Douglas said, “Why don’t you take Sophie to bed, Ryder. She’s had quite enough. She looks as fatigued as the rest of us doubtless feel.”
Ryder gave his brother a nod.
Some five minutes later, at four o’clock in the morning, Colin said, “Douglas is right. Everyone is exhausted. Enough for tonight. We will speak of this again tomorrow.”
He held Sinjun close, his arms locked around her back, his face pressed against her temple.
“Who killed her, Colin?”
He felt her warm breath against his throat. “I don’t know,” he said, “blessed hell, I don’t know. Maybe she was an accomplice in Fiona’s death, just maybe . . . I don’t know. Jesus, what a night. Let’s get some rest.”
The next morning there was surprisingly little conversation at the breakfast table. Colin had told Dulcie to keep Philip and Dahling with her as he wanted no horrific tales spun in front of their young faces.
Still, there wasn’t much more to say.
Serena said nothing at all. She ate her porridge, chewed slowly, even nodded occasionally whilst she chewed, as if she were carrying on a private conversation with herself, which, Sinjun thought, she probably was. She would never understand Serena; she wondered if Serena understood herself.
As if at long last, Serena became aware that Sinjun was looking at her. She said, her voice as calm and serene as a warm starlit night, “A pity it wasn’t you, Joan. Then Colin would have all your money and me. Yes, a pity. I like you, naturally, it’s difficult not to. But it’s still a pity.” With those words that made Sinjun’s blood freeze in her veins, Serena merely smiled at everyone and left the Laird’s Inbetween Room.
“She’s frightening,” Sophie said, and shuddered.
“I think she’s all talk,” Alex said. “And I think she speaks that way for effect. She loves to shock. Sinjun, pull yourself together. It was just words, nothing more.”.
Colin sad, “I will see that Serena returns to Edinburgh as soon as may be. In fact, it might be best if I sent Ostle with a message to Robert MacPherson. He could come for her himself. There’s no reason to wait.”
Robert MacPherson did come to Vere Castle, and with him were half a dozen of his men, all armed to the teeth.
“You’ll notice Alfie isn’t among my men. I hanged him for killing Dingle.”
He dismounted, waved his men to do the same, and entered the castle, careful that the great doors remained open. “There is much improvement,” he said, then nodded to Sinjun. “You’re quite the housekeeper, aren’t you?”
“Oh yes,” she said, wondering why she hadn’t shot him when she’d had the chance. She didn’t trust him an inch, this pretty man with his evil heart.
“I will take Serena to Edinburgh now. I did promise you that I’d speak to my father, though I warn you, Colin, he’s not as he should be in his mental parts.”
“He was all that he should be when I last saw him,” Colin said. “If you simply told me who it was who claimed I killed your sister, we would both save ourselves a lot of time.”
“Oh no,” Robert MacPherson said, casually flicking a speck of dust from his coat sleeve. “To tell you would lead to nothing. You would try to kill the person in a rage, and I would still be left with doubts. No, I will speak to my father. I will tell him about this person who accused you. I will listen to what he has to say. Ask no more, Colin.”
“I wouldn’t kill your damnable informant!”
“If you didn’t, then your bloodthirsty wife would.”
“I surely would,” Sinjun said. “He’s right about that, Colin.”
Colin suddenly realized they were all standing in the entrance hall. He didn’t want MacPherson in his home but he had come for Serena. He had to be somewhat civil, but that didn’t mean taking him into the drawing room and giving him a cup of tea. They would remain in the entrance hall. Colin said, to break the uncomfortable silence, “You know the wives, do you not?”
“Oh yes, bloody savages those two. Ladies,” Robert MacPherson added, and gave them each a deep bow. “And