Page 108 of My Highland Love

“Of course.” Father Fynn hesitated. “Lord Ashlund, I pressed Sara for information concerning the brooch. It was the most valuable of the items, so I had hoped—”

“Most valuable?” Marcus demanded coldly. “My wife's wedding ring was far more valuable. The emerald is three karats. The gold, twenty-four karat. The ring has been in my family for generations. It is priceless.”

Father Fynn looked startled. “Emerald? What emerald?”

“She packed the ring in her valise with the chain and brooch.”

The priest pointed to the paper Marcus held. “I swear, Lord Ashlund, there was no emerald ring. Wait, there is this.” He opened a drawer and withdrew a folded sheet of paper. He unfolded the document and handed it to Marcus.

He lifted the paper and recognized the pawnbroker's ticket for Elise's wedding band.

Thick gold wedding band his mind repeated the words on the document. Elise had kept the pawn ticket. Why?

Marcus riveted his gaze to Father Fynn. “Where is this Sara MacPhee?”

Fear crossed the priest's face.

“I will not harm her.”

Father Fynn hesitated, then said, “I cannot stop you.”

“No,” Marcus said, his voice hard. “No one can.”

* * *

In the predawn hours the next morning, the door to Marcus's study opened and Justin and Kiernan entered. The time of reckoning had arrived.

“Justin,” Marcus said, without shifting his attention from the instructions he was preparing for Harris, “go home.”

“Father,” Kiernan said, forcing Marcus's attention to the chair Justin was settling into and his son standing beside it.

Marcus met Kiernan's gaze and he saw the pain on his face, but only broke the connection saying, “You will return to school.”

“I will stay.”

“Staying will not stop me.” He looked at Justin. “Nor yours.”

“I will not leave,” Kiernan asserted.

Marcus swung his attention onto his son. “You will return to school. Refuse, and I will have you bound and taken back to Brahan Seer, where you will remain until I return.”

“If you return,” Kiernan shot back.

“You are old enough to understand—”

“Old enough to understand a fool's errand when I see one.”

“The boy deserves an explanation,” Justin said.

Marcus stared at his son, then looked at Justin. This was the first the two of them had demanded an explanation for his actions of the previous evening. He understood that he might appear insane. When he'd left the church in search of Sara MacPhee, he hadn't commanded them to leave, but neither had he explained the hurried ride to her home, nor the search of the immediate area when her cottage was found empty.

No words were spoken on the return trip home and Justin and Kiernan didn't accost him when he closeted himself in his study the length of the night. They knew nothing of what he'd read in the preliminary report entitled “Elisabeth Kingston” that had sat on his desk until last night. Kingston. At last, he knew her name. Marcus closed his eyes. Why did you not tell me, Elise? Too late, he knew her identity and why she was in the Scottish Highlands.

The daughter of a wealthy shipping baron, Elise had lost her father at age fifteen. She was now thirty—older than he'd thought. She married Robert Kingston—not Riley, as she had called him—seven years ago. Amelia Kingston had been born a year after the marriage. Amelia died aboard the ship that bore her name. Robert, too, had died. Only, he hadn't drowned in the wreckage of the ship but had been brought down by a bullet administered by his wife. Marcus's wife, the Marchioness of Ashlund, was wanted for murder. What pushed a woman to murder her husband?

Marcus's man of affairs had attempted to find the Amelia's captain to answer that question, but ship and captain were on an extended voyage to Australia and wouldn't return for six more months. He'd located only one crewmember who had been aboard the Amelia on that voyage. The crewmember told of a nasty storm that had raged the night Elise had been lost at sea. Robert appeared on deck during the storm. He had a pistol, but before he could use it, Elise shot him. He returned fire as he fell. Steven was hit, but not mortally wounded. Elise had told him Steven went down with the ship. She must have believed Steven dead by her husband's bullet.

A massive wave struck the ship and swept Elise overboard. Everyone in America thought her dead, which didn't explain the notice advertised by her stepfather, Price Ardsley, that named her murderer. The investigator included in his report the rumor that Price Ardsley was unhappy with the twenty-five percent interest in Landen Shipping, which had fallen to Elise on her twenty-fifth birthday. If not for the twenty-six percent her brother controlled in Landen Shipping, her interest would be of small consequence to Price Ardsley.