The Scottish Bride - Catherine Coulter [84]
Erickson looked up at Mary Rose, whose face was in the shadows since she was holding the candle. “You will be twenty-five next month, Mary Rose. You must marry me before your birthday so I may have the money. I need it. Donnatella only has five thousand pounds—it simply isn’t enough.”
“How much money?” Sinjun asked.
“I don’t know. Sir Lyon said it was thousands upon thousands. He said this old man who is the trustee wouldn’t tell him the amount, just that it was more than even a greedy man could imagine.”
Tysen was sucking in air hard again because he nearly couldn’t breathe. He shoved Sinjun and Mary Rose out of his way, leaned down, jerked MacPhail up and began hitting him as hard as he could, which was very hard indeed since this new wave of rage had turned his vision red, made his heart pound so hard it should burst through his chest. It was Colin who grabbed Tysen and pulled him off. Tysen turned to hit him, but Sinjun yelled, “Stop it, Tysen! Calm down, it’s all over. At least now we know the truth. Stop it! The little worm has lost, well and truly lost.”
Mary Rose walked slowly between the two men. She pressed herself against Tysen and locked her arms around his back. He felt her mouth against his bare chest, her warm breath. Slowly, so very slowly, he lowered his arms, and squeezed her to him. He rested his face on the top of her head. He breathed in her scent, tasted her hair, curls bouncing into his mouth.
“Did you have some sort of agreement with Mary Rose’s uncle?” Colin said now, standing over Erickson, his hands fisted, but he knew the man wasn’t going to try to get away. He knew Tysen might just snap again and this time he might just kill him. He knew deep in his soul that he couldn’t allow that to happen. Such an act, he knew, would destroy Tysen, crush his soul, damn him forever.
“Yes,” Erickson said finally, knowing he’d failed, knowing it was no use. “I was to give him ten thousand pounds when I wedded Mary Rose and he would see that she was available to me at Vallance Manor so I could properly woo her there, if she didn’t accept me elsewhere.”
Mary Rose turned slowly, not releasing Tysen, holding him, perhaps, even more tightly. “What about Donnatella? She’s the one you have always wanted, isn’t she?”
Erickson rubbed his aching jaw, felt blood from his nose and split lip, as he said, his voice filled with dislike now, “Yes, you’re nothing compared to Donnatella. You’re not stupid, Mary Rose, you have eyes. Since you live at Vallance Manor, you see every day how beautiful she is.”
Mary Rose didn’t pull away from Tysen at all, just continued to look at Erickson. “If you married me then you couldn’t have Donnatella. She would never be your mistress. You know that, Erickson. None of this makes any sense. You would have my money, but surely you would be miserable married to me and not her.”
Erickson said, “My mother is very strong-willed, you know that. She said that all would be well, in the not-too-distant future. She said she would have the money and I would have all that I wanted. That would have to be Donnatella, wouldn’t it?”
“You mean your mother planned to kill Mary Rose?” Sinjun was staring down at the man, revolted, but yet not wanting to believe such evil existed.
Erickson only shrugged, which was a difficult movement since every bit of him hurt, even his knee he’d hit when he went to the floor with the damned vicar. He said, furious, “That is bloody lunacy. My mother wouldn