The Heiress Bride - Catherine Coulter [148]
“But you see, he was a bastard. It is I who should have become the next earl, I who should have inherited Vere Castle. Arleth was distraught when Malcolm died. She hated Colin, oh aye, she certainly did. She promised to give me proof of his illegitimacy, the old hag. She promised me the proof so Colin would be set aside and I would be the earl of Ashburnham.”
Sinjun held perfectly still. She didn’t even blink. He was furious, nearly out of control. She was more afraid than she’d ever been in her life.
He seemed to calm. He was sweating profusely. When he spoke again, his voice sounded a bit singsong, as if he were reciting words that had been in his mind for a very long time, playing themselves over and over. A justification, perhaps, for any guilt.
“Arleth tried to kill you through neglect. It was revenge against Colin because he was alive and Malcolm was dead. You survived, more’s the pity. Then the old witch had an attack of conscience. After all these bloody years, an attack of conscience! I killed her because she refused to give me the proof. I wanted to snap her scrawny neck, but I thought perhaps you would all believe her guilty of killing Fiona if you believed she’d hung herself.”
“You tied the knots much too tight at the base of the chandelier. She wouldn’t have had the strength to do that.”
He shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter now. I will have fifty thousand pounds. I will go to America, I believe. I will be a wealthy man there. I’ve decided not to kill you or Colin, unless you force me to it. Then again, perhaps I shall. There’s no reason to, really, though. I’ve never hated you or him. But killing—it exhilarates me, makes me happy in those precious moments.”
“Did you kill Fiona?”
He nodded, his expression suddenly dreamy. “Perhaps I should kill Colin. He always had what I wanted, even though he never realized it. Fiona was besotted with him, but he didn’t give a good tinker’s damn about her. She drove him mad with her ceaseless jealousy. She shrieked at him if he even looked in the direction of another woman. She didn’t care about Vere Castle or any of its people. It was just Colin, only Colin. She wanted him to be her lapdog. He should have just beaten her, it would have helped, but he didn’t. He just withdrew from her. But I wanted her, loved her, and she rejected me. Yes, Arleth gave me a potion to pour into Colin’s ale. Since the old earl and Malcolm were both dead, she didn’t care if the whole bloody castle died; she was quite ready to assist all of them to the grave. Colin drank it and passed out. I broke Fiona’s pretty neck and tossed her over the cliff. She pleaded and promised she would love only me, but I didn’t believe her. Perhaps I wanted to for a moment or two, but then there was that odd exhilaration again. I couldn’t stop once I’d begun. I was quite the artist, Sinjun. I arranged Colin’s unconscious body right there, nearly over the edge but not quite. Had I been lucky, he would have fallen; had I been lucky, he would have been hung for her murder. But I wasn’t lucky at all.”
He stopped then, as if the spigot had turned off.
But Sinjun had to know. “Did you hire a man to kill him in London?”
“Yes, but the fool failed. I came to visit my dear cousin all happy as a clam in the home of the damned earl of Northcliffe. Safe from me, he was, but I was busy. I thought, were he to die in London, far away from Scotland, things would be easier for me, and they would have, damn him. Your brother behaved as I suspected he would when I sent the letter accusing Colin of killing Fiona. But you, Sinjun, you were completely unexpected. Whisked your lover away from London, away from your family’s interference, away from me.
“Colin blamed Robert MacPherson