Love Me Forever (15 page)

“Then you think you
can
find the horses?” she ventured, then groaned inwardly when she heard the hopeful note in her voice.

But he didn’t seem to have noticed. “’Tis no’ a matter of ’can,’ darlin’, ’tis a matter of ’have to.’”

She nodded in complete agreement. And she was about to leave, when he sat down on the edge of the bed and she saw him wince. She had to bite back her concern. Yes, he was in pain, he
had to be, but he was a big man and he could get through it well enough without any more assistance from her.

But he looked so pathetic she reconsidered the uncaring facade. “I’d like to help—that is, if you need help in your search. I don’t like it, that you’re being blamed for this, when I know you didn’t do it.”

He chuckled softly. Those last few words of hers had really brightened his mood. Actually, she felt a little lighter in the chest herself for having owned up to what she really felt.

“No more than I, darlin’,” he said. “But I have tae allow my past deeds did make me a likely suspect. In that I canna really blame St. James. But he’ll be eating his words in the end, or I dinna deserve tae be Laird of Clan MacGregor.”

Put that way, she didn’t doubt him at all.

“H
is name is Will Ables,” Gilleonan was saying. “And I’ve a strong feelin’ he’s no’ just confused on the matter, he’s lyin’ for some reason.”

“Why?” Lachlan asked.

It was the next morning. Gilleonan had shown up bright and early at Lachlan’s door to report on what he and Ranald had found out yesterday about the missing horses.

St. James might have given Lachlan a week to prove himself, but it was going to take him longer than that just to recover from the beating. So he was going to have to depend on his cousins to do most of the investigating, at least to begin with, and in all haste. The most he could do right now was give them direction.

“He’s tae defensive,” Gilleonan answered. “And tae insistent that ’twas yer voice he heard. No’ just a Scot, mind ye, but ye in particular. Now I’m askin’ ye, where would he even ha’ heard yer voice ’afore, when he doesna work in the common stable, but in the breedin’ ones?”

“I was wondering that myself, when the closest I’ve gotten tae the fancy stock here was the other morning when we wandered over tae the training yard.”

“Aye, the mornin’ ye socked that viscount for no good reason. Or is there a reason ye’d care tae be sharin’ wi’ us less discernin’ Scots now?”

Lachlan gave a mental sigh. He knew his cousin was feeling excluded, but he couldn’t very well explain what had prompted his attack on Howard Canston, when he didn’t understand it himself. To call it jealousy, a logical excuse, was absurd, so he’d as soon not discuss it at all.

In answer, Lachlan said, “Dinna fash yourself about that, Gill. I’ve already forgotten it myself. Drunk it out o’ my system, so tae speak.”

That got the expected chuckle he was hoping for. Anything else on the subject could wait until Lachlan figured it out for himself, if he ever did. But for now, he got back to the matter at hand.

“As for this groom, keep your eye on him, wi’out him knowing it, if you can. Take note of who he talks tae, where he goes, what he does when he’s no’ working. Also, talk tae everyone who works wi’ him. Find out if anyone—unusual—has been around tae see him in the last weeks.”

“What is it ye be thinkin’?”

“I’m no’ sure, but the possibilities are many. Young Will could be the thief himself. Those who live in the stable would know when no one else would be around tae take note o’ what they’re up tae.”

Gilleonan shook his head slowly, “Nay, he doesna strike me as havin’ enough sense, let alone the gumption, tae try somethin’ like that on
his own. More like one o’ a group and followin’ orders.”

“Aye, there’s that,” Lachlan agreed. “Or he could simply have been paid tae put the blame on another, tae give the real thieves more time tae cover their tracks. Though why he would pick me I canna guess.”

“I can.” At Lachlan’s raised auburn brow, Gilleonan explained, “I doubt there’s many here hasna heard aboot yer reavin’ past, at least in the servants’ wing. ’Twas discussed openly when ye first showed up, ’atween Their Graces, wi’ servants close enough tae hear more’n they should be hearin’. It’s made for some lively talk down in the kitchen, or so Ranald claims. And he should know. The lass he’s been passin’ time wi’ is the cook’s assistant, so he spends a goodly amount o’ time down there.”

“Well, that doesna help tae narrow the chase down, does it now?” Lachlan said in disgust.

Gilleonan grinned. “Nay, what it did was make ye the first one tae come tae mind, for such a plot which is also why the duke looked no further for a culprit. But we’ll be figurin’ this thing out, dinna worry.”

“Aye, I’ve got every confidence o’ that,” Lachlan agreed. Though that wasn’t exactly true.

Gilleonan nodded, adding, “I had Ranald scourin’ the countryside and the nearest villages for likely places the animals could be hidden, and I’m thinkin’ tae keep him at that for the time bein’. Considerin’ the time o’ day that the theft occurred, wi’ most folks up and aboot soon after, ’tis doubtful the horses were taken verra far from here, or the thief or thieves would’ve risked bein’ noticed.”

“That’s true, and why I was also going tae suggest the roads nearby be covered for the next few mornings at that early hour,” Lachlan said. “’Tis likely anyone found traveling them at that time does so every day and can be questioned if they saw anything.”

“A good point, and I’ll even help Ranald wi’ that, since ’tis only an hour or two that we need be concerned wi’. Any later and whoever travels the roads would be at their jobs. And I’ll still have all the rest o’ the day tae keep watch on Will Ables.”

“It should be easier tae find the horses than tae find the thief, though if we get lucky, we can find the one wi’ the other. The horses by themselves willna prove anything, but at least we’d have more tae go by, and a place we can be sure the thieves will return tae. There’s the possibility, also, that the groom, if he is involved, could lead us tae them.”

“Aye, I’ll be watchin’ for that, you can be sure,” Gilleonan assured him.

“Verra well. I’ll be paying him a visit myself—as soon as I’m up tae a wee bit o’ browbeating. At the moment, I dinna think I’d be inspiring anything but contempt, wi’ this face o’ mine. ’Tis good for frightening maids in dark corners, but no’ much else.”

“Actually it’s—well—” Gilleonan had meant to be encouraging, but ended up sighing. “Aye, there’s no improvement yet.”

Lachlan chuckled. “I’ve eyes and mirrors tae be showing me that—as well as the horrified look o’ the maid who brought me breakfast this morning.”

Gilleonan winced. “Och, I didna think o’ that,
but this will be delayin’ yer wooin’ for a spell.”

“Indeed,” Lachlan said.

But actually, he hadn’t gotten around to any serious wooing, because of the simple fact that he couldn’t get Kimberly out of his mind long enough to decide on which of the ladies currently at Sherring Cross he ought to pursue. In truth, all he could think about was pursuing her.

He’d figured that would be pretty hopeless. She’d made that very clear. But that was before she’d shown up in his room the other night to give him such tender care—and come to his defense the next morning. She might have been brisk about it all, but he was beginning to think her attitude was a ruse. She always tried to be correct and proper—and so often failed.

He smiled to himself. He loved it when she failed, and most times she amused him when she didn’t. The lass had a hard time containing her spirit, she really did.

She might have refused to get him out of this predicament the easy way, but then he hadn’t expected her to go that far. As it was, in the end she
had
offered to help. So perhaps she’d changed her mind about him. And perhaps he ought to find out for sure, because there was no point in denying it. He wouldn’t mind marrying Kimberly Richards.

Who was he kidding? It was becoming more and more obvious to him each day that he
wanted
to marry her.

W
ill Ables was a lanky young man with wiry black hair and large, owl-like blue eyes that gave him a somewhat forlorn look. It tended to make one feel sorry for the chap on first sight, without actually knowing why—at least until you became acquainted with his cocky attitude.

Upon first seeing him, Kimberly thought he appeared so miserable. She had been hesitant to even approach him. She had to actually remind herself that for whatever reason, the man had lied. She knew for a fact that Lachlan hadn’t been here, yet this groom swore that he had been.

For two days now she knew something wasn’t right in Will Ables’s accounting of the incident, and it bothered her. But she couldn’t tell anyone about it, or come right out and accuse him without explaining how she knew. But her forced silence went against the grain. And the fact that she couldn’t do anything about it was making her angry.

And with three days of the mere “week” that
Lachlan had been allowed gone now, with nothing new coming to light that she’d heard about, she’d decided to speak to the groom herself. If she could find out anything, anything at all, that might suggest he was indeed lying, then that could be used to clear Lachlan. It was worth a try at least.

She also realized there could only be one reason for him to lie, because he was somehow involved himself. And that made her wonder if he’d even been hit on the head, or if that had just been a ruse.

Had someone checked out that injury? Actually seen proof of it? Or in the excitement, had that been overlooked? She intended to find out.

Of course, there was the unlikely possibility that Will Ables was just confused, that he really did think that he’d heard Lachlan. But this was too serious a charge to not be a hundred percent certain.

She had to ask each groom she came across if he were Ables, since she did not know the man. But by a process of elimination, she finally found him sitting on a bale of hay, eating a large meat pie. And he really did look miserable, with those large soulful blue eyes. But it was just an appearance, not really an indication of what was going on in his mind, as she was to find.

“Will Ables?”

He came to his feet immediately and doffed his cap, a bit too quickly for a man recently injured. Surely a sudden movement should have caused him some head pain, but not a wince did he show.

“That be me, mum,” he said.

“Please, don’t get up,” she told him, smiling.
“I’ve heard of your mishap. Actually, I came to see how you are faring, after such a harrowing experience.”

“A what, mum?”

“Your run-in with the horse thieves. That was rather brave of you, if I do say so.”

“It weren’t nothin’,” he replied, blushing at the compliment. “Just part of me job.”

“Yes, I suppose. But did the doctor say you would be all right?”

“Didn’t need no doctor. Me head’s taken worse knocks before.”

“But surely a doctor came to examine you?” She’d need the man’s name, so she could talk to him as well.

“For a little lump?” he scoffed. “I told ’em it weren’t needful.”

Kimberly lifted a brow. No doctor, no one to verify that the groom really had been hit over the head. Well, hadn’t she suspected that might be the case?

“Was that wise, Mr. Ables? What if you had needed stitches or the like? Here, why don’t you let me have a look at your lump, just to make sure—”

He jumped back from her so quickly, he nearly toppled over the bale of hay. And his look, when he found his balance, was a bit accusatory. Clearly she’d taken him by surprise. But he soon recovered, putting on a pretentious smile.

“No need to bother, mum. I told ye it weren’t nothin’. No broken skin, no bleedin’. Actually, the lump’s all but gone, it is.”

Kimberly nodded, though she’d eat her winter bonnet if there had been a lump on his head to begin with. It was really too bad the duke hadn’t
insisted a doctor examine the man when the injury supposedly occurred. He could have found out then and there that the man was lying, and lying he was. Kimberly was almost positive now.

But too many days had passed to prove it. A lump, if there had been one, could have receded already. Since it offered no proof, she had to think of some other way.

She wondered what he’d say if she just flat out called him a liar. Deny it, of course. She sighed inwardly. That would accomplish nothing.

“It’s such a shame, the horses haven’t been retrieved yet,” Kimberly remarked. “But at least that Scot didn’t get away with it, thanks to you. Imagine, stealing from your host? Such utter gall, not to mention bad form. Why, that’s as bad as stealing from your employer.”

His blush came again, a guilty one this time, she’d warrant. But it was her praise he latched onto.

“I don’t know the bloke personal-like,” Will said. “But I’d ’eard ’im a time or two. It’s ’ard to mistake, that voice of ’is.”

“I know what you mean. His brogue is so thick, isn’t it? Very easy to recognize.”

“Aye, that it is.”

He was lying again, agreeing with her, when she was stating untruths herself. Lachlan’s brogue was light. It made her so furious, she had to look away from him for a moment, until she could get her anger under control.

But this was something she could at least make use of, she realized. Will Ables
didn’t
know Lachlan’s voice, he’d probably never heard it before. If he heard three Scots together, including Lach
lan, he’d have a devil’s time trying to figure which was which.

The duke needed to be apprised of this—no, not Devlin. He didn’t like Lachlan, had wanted him gone from the beginning. He was satisfied with his guilt, pleased about it, she didn’t doubt, since he could now oust the Highlander with a clear conscience. Short of having the real thief in hand, he would scoff at anything that suggested Lachlan’s innocence.

No, she’d tell Megan about what she’d discovered. The duchess might have been exasperated and annoyed with Lachlan, but Kimberly didn’t think she personally disliked him. She’d be fair. And the two of them might even be able to arrange a little demonstration to force Will Ables to prove his claim.

Now
that
was an excellent idea. Kimberly was so pleased with it, she was even able to look at the man again without her eyes frying him on the spot.

“Well, I’m glad to know you’re feeling up to scratch and able to resume your duties,” she told the man in parting. “Of course, you’ve fewer charges to look after at the moment. But hopefully that will be rectified soon. I’m sure the duke won’t rest until he has the animals back where they belong, and that audacious thief behind bars.”

“Are you sayin’ ’e’s still around, the Scot? ’E’s not been locked up yet?”

She realized he hadn’t been informed about the outcome. Of course, there was no reason to inform a servant about the doings of lords. Considering that, he likely didn’t know that Lachlan had
been beaten either, and was keeping to his room while he recovered.

He appeared worried, but that wasn’t conclusive guilt. Considering Lachlan’s huge size, anyone who accused him of anything, true or not wouldn’t feel safe about it until Lachlan was arrested and unable to show up for revenge—or an accounting.

She wondered now if the groom might not disappear if he thought there was a chance Lachlan would come looking for him. That in itself might point toward his own guilt—or not, since fear of retribution from that Highlander could be just as motivating, she supposed.

No, she didn’t think that would actually help, so she said, “He claims he’s innocent, don’t you know, and the duke, being a fair man, has given him time to prove it. But there’s not much he can do in that regard, injured as he is.”

“Injured?”

“Yes, he was soundly thrashed. No more than he deserved, of course.”

The man visibly relaxed, hearing that. Kimberly
hoped
she hadn’t made the wrong decision in trying to keep him from disappearing. But he did seem to be the only lead to proving Lachlan’s innocence, and they needed him.

Kimberly offered him a parting smile and bid him good-day, eager to get back to the house. But just as she turned to leave, Howard Canston came around a corner and stopped abruptly.

“Lady Kimberly!” he exclaimed. “What are—ah, I’ve been looking for you. Was told you’d wandered this way. Thought you might like to go for a ride, what with the sun making a rare appearance today.”

She didn’t. She wanted to go have a talk with the duchess, to discuss what she’d just learned. However, she’d also been meaning to explore the immediate areas around Sherring Cross, on the unlikely chance that she could find the missing horses herself.

The duke undoubtedly had his own people out looking for the animals, but there was a lot of area to cover, including forest and uncultivated meadows. And she would really like to be the one to actually locate them, to make up for her silence.

So she agreed to the ride. It certainly couldn’t hurt to further her acquaintance with Howard too. She did still have to get married after all, and he was still on her list of likely candidates.

But Kimberly frowned to herself as they left the breeding stable to walk to the common one down by the house, where she could get a gentle mare for riding. If he had been looking for her, as he claimed, why then had he seemed so surprised when he found her?