Unlaced by the Outlaw (Secrets in Silk) (38 page)

He hadn’t slept all night. He’d paced the floors, and he imagined that he looked like an unshaven beggar. Certainly, he wasn’t fit to sit beside a lady.

Margaret reached out to take his palm. Her gloved hand was warm against his, and she squeezed gently, murmuring, “Jonah has a good solicitor and a barrister to argue his case. Too much of the evidence is circumstantial.” Lifting her chin, she added, “Trust in that, Cain.”

She might be right, but he couldn’t bring himself to share in that faith. Jonah stood before the Lord Justice Clerk, and it was then that Cain noticed the boy trembling. He had reason for it. If they found him guilty of Strathland’s murder, he might pay for his mistakes with his life.

“. . . and that you, according to His Majesty’s laws, may endure the just punishment for this crime,” the Advocate Depute finished.

Just punishment
meant hanging for a boy of four-and-ten. Cain rubbed at his chin, praying that somehow the rightful guilty person would emerge.

He fully believed that Joseph MacKinloch was responsible, regardless of the man’s claims. But would the truth come out?

A list of evidence and witnesses was presented to the Lord Justice Clerk, after which time the panel pleaded on Jonah’s behalf, “Not guilty.”

The first witness, Peter Walker, was sworn in, but the man exchanged a glance with the Lord Justice Clerk. There was a connection between the two men, though Cain didn’t know what it was. But it soon became clear that this was a witness who had seen Jonah leaving the inn that night.

“Tell the panel what you observed on the night the accused was seen leaving the inn,” the Advocate Depute, Mr. Newman, began.

Walker cleared his throat and admitted, “I was traveling south, meeting friends at the Grouse Inn. I spent the evening playing cards, and around midnight, I saw Jonah Sinclair leaving. He stood against the wall, moving as if he didna want anyone to see him. Looked as if he were afraid.”

“Why do you say that?” The Advocate Depute kept his voice neutral, as if he already knew what the witness would say.

“It was late, and he was alone. He returned a few hours later, still before dawn. Blood was on his hands, and he was carrying a pistol. He tried to hide, and we asked him what had happened. He tried to run out the door, but we caught him and alerted the sheriff.”

“And what did the accused say to you?”

“He said, ‘The Earl of Strathland’s dead. Oh God, he’s dead.’ ” Walker leaned back, his gaze holding satisfaction.

“That’s no’ all I said!” Jonah blurted out from his seat. His face was white, and the barrister forced him to sit down, speaking rapidly to him in an undertone.

Margaret’s fingers laced with Cain’s, as if she needed him. He understood her worry and stroked her gloved palm. Having her here beside him was a comfort that gave him strength to endure this. And he prayed to God that the truth would come out, so he would not have to leave her.

The trial only got worse. The prosecution continued to draw out the witness, the evidence mounting against Jonah. When his brother’s agent began to cross-examine the same witness, the barrister took a different approach.

“When you saw the accused leaving the inn, was he carrying a pistol at that time?”

“Not openly, nay,” Walker answered. “He might’ve hidden it away.”

“Then you did not see any weapon on the defender?”

The man only shrugged, and the barrister continued, “He was not the only person who left the inn that night, was he?”

“Many people came and went,” Walker admitted. “But there was only one other man who arrived by coach, before MacKinloch left.”

Beside him, Margaret gripped his hand. She turned and met Cain’s gaze, and he knew what she was thinking. She seemed convinced that there was another coach that night, but even if it was true, there was no way to know who the other gentleman was or whether he had anything to do with Strathland’s death.

“Isn’t it also true that Joseph MacKinloch departed first that night? And that he was acting as the boy’s guardian?”

“They were traveling together, aye,” the witness agreed. “But shortly after the boy left, Joseph MacKinloch returned to the inn. He played cards with us the rest of the night.”

Cain’s stomach sank, for it was clear that MacKinloch had somehow convinced these men to act as his alibis.

“Not true,” Margaret whispered. Her face was tight with unrest, and she grimaced as the questioning continued.

“You said MacKinloch left for a time,” the barrister continued. “How long was he gone?”

“Less than an hour.”

There were more questions about what time they played, who the other players were, and what the stakes were. The number of questions was dizzying, and more than once, Cain wondered why the agent was switching from one topic to another. Perhaps he was trying to make the witness accidentally reveal a truth during the testimony.

Hours crept on, and with every witness who continued on the stand, his brother appeared even more despondent.

“Why haven’t they called Jonah to the stand?” Margaret whispered. “Do they not want him to defend himself?”

“The prosecutor would lead him into a trap. It’s best that he doesna say anything. At least, no’ yet.”

Cain prayed it wouldn’t come to that, but if all other witnesses failed, the barrister would undoubtedly call Jonah to speak.

Finally, Paul Fraser, the Viscount of Falsham, was called to the witness stand. Lord Falsham was dressed impeccably, and he strode forward with confidence.

Margaret was aghast. “Why is Paul here?”

“He offered his testimony, Margaret. This was his choice.”

Paul had known how bad the case was, and since he’d been there that night, he’d spoken with both the solicitor and the agent representing Jonah.

“Lord Falsham, will you please tell the court of your findings on the night when Lord Strathland was murdered.”

The viscount nodded and said, “Of course. But first, the jury should ken that the Earl of Strathland was locked away for madness,” he began. “He spent nearly five years in an asylum, and medical evidence will attest to that. He escaped the asylum and began hunting our family. He fired a pistol at my wife’s sister, Amelia Andrews. His shot missed, and he struck the Earl of Castledon instead. Then he fled.”

“And you pursued him, did you not?” the Advocate Depute said.

“I did, aye. We were all afraid he would try to harm other family members, and I tried to follow, to protect them.”

Paul met Cain’s gaze from across the courtroom. “I rode for most of the night, but I had to change horses when mine threw a shoe. By the time I continued my journey, it was morning. The coroner was already examining Lord Strathland when I arrived.”

The coroner, who had already given his own testimony, was already nodding in agreement. Cain felt Margaret’s grip on his hand relax.

“How long had Lord Strathland been dead when you arrived?” the Advocate Depute inquired.

“Several hours.”

“And would you say his death occurred sometime after midnight?”

Cain saw exactly where this was leading, but Paul only shrugged. His friend added, “I’m no’ a coroner, so I canna say when the death occurred. But I will say that Lord Strathland had more enemies than friends.” He turned his gaze across the courtroom and pointed. “You should ask Joseph MacKinloch what the earl did to his sister.”

“MacKinloch is not on the stand,” the Lord Justice Clerk interrupted. “Please answer only the questions asked of you, Lord Falsham.”

When there were no further questions, the viscount finished his testimony and left the stand. Margaret relaxed beside Cain and whispered, “I hope that will help Jonah a great deal.”

It might, but he suspected they would wait until the following day for MacKinloch’s testimony. Cain sat through endless hours of more witnesses, the restlessness growing inside.

Jonah risked a glance at him and quietly shook his head. It seemed that his brother had already given up.

The Lord Justice Clerk adjourned the proceedings at the end of the day, and Margaret was only too grateful to leave. She had never attended a trial before, and hadn’t realized how endless it would be. Throughout the day, Cain had barely spoken to her. All of his attention was locked on his brother, as if he could will the outcome to turn in Jonah’s favor.

She took Cain’s arm, walking out with him, but he led her toward Lord Falsham. To Paul, he asked, “Will you take Margaret home to her sister? I won’t be back until late.”

“Where are you going?” Margaret asked.

He wouldn’t answer, but said, “Go with Fraser. He’ll look after you.”

A sharp suspicion made her feel as if Cain was about to do something foolish. She thought about arguing with him and insisting that he come home, but it was clear that the bone-deep weariness was troubling him.

“Come home to me tonight,” she pleaded, squeezing both of his hands in farewell.

His deep blue eyes stared into hers, and he held her hands a little longer. Then he raised one hand to his mouth, kissing her farewell. “Be well, lass.”

After Cain had left, Margaret summoned one of the footmen and ordered quietly, “Follow him. Tell me where he’s gone.”

The man agreed, and Paul offered his arm. “Shall we go home? Juliette will be fretting over you.”

She joined him in the carriage for the ride back to Falsham. When the doors were closed, she regarded the viscount. “What do you suppose Cain is doing?”

“Searching for more witnesses, I don’t doubt. Or he’s going to talk with MacKinloch again.” His face turned kindly. “Don’t be worrying, Margaret. We’ll do what we can to help Cain and his brother.”

“I’m afraid Cain will confess to the murder,” she blurted out. “Or worse, that they’ll hang him, in Jonah’s place.” She gripped her hands tightly and tried to keep control over her feelings. “I don’t know how to stop him.”

“I don’t think he’d do anything that foolish,” Paul said slowly. “’Twould be better to discredit the witnesses who have already spoken against Jonah.”

She rubbed at her temples, feeling a touch of a headache. “I don’t like being left behind.”

“You’re no’ going after him,” Paul insisted. “Stay with us and let it be.”

She knew that was the sensible thing to do, but the feeling of uneasiness grew inside her. “I’m afraid he won’t find anything. But more than that, I’m afraid of what he’ll do afterward.”

“Does Sinclair mean that much to you, then?” Paul asked.

“Yes.” She loved Cain and wanted to be with him, no matter what happened. Her heart bled for him, for undoubtedly he was feeling the way she had when Amelia had been abducted. The helpless feeling was wrenching, and until the trial was over, Cain would suffer with worry.

“He’s my friend, too, Margaret,” the viscount reminded her. “He helped my Juliette in a time of need, when no one else would. I’ll do everything in my power to assist him and Jonah.”

“I know you will.” Yet she couldn’t help but feel as if Cain was slipping away from her. All through the trial, he’d been far away in his thoughts. She knew it was his worry over Jonah, but more than that, she could feel the way he was isolating himself, as if he’d already accepted what was to come.

His guilt held him captive, and he would not see reason. Just as she’d refused to listen to him, when he’d wanted her to stay behind and allow the authorities to search for Amelia.

She didn’t regret the choices she’d made. Throughout each day she’d spent with Cain, she’d lost more and more of her former self. Bonnets and gowns didn’t matter a whit when it came to survival. In the midst of that ordeal, she’d come out stronger and wiser.

And she’d fallen in love with this man. Being apart from him was a physical ache, and she now realized that she’d never loved Lord Lisford or anyone else. She’d been blinded by the outer trappings of a title and a handsome man, never seeing the truth beneath.

Cain didn’t care about any of that. He was a man of honor who would lay down his life for someone he loved. He’d walked through fire for her, and he’d offered her everything he had.

She could not allow him to sacrifice himself for Jonah’s sake. Somehow they would find the answers that would lead them to the true murderer.

No matter what happened, she could not let him die.

Chapter Seventeen

T
he public house was crowded that evening, with men drinking and singing, while others played cards. Cain had a tin mug of ale in one hand, but he remained in the shadows watching. The first witness, Peter Walker, was speaking with Joseph MacKinloch at the far end of the room. His face was dark with anger, while MacKinloch remained passive.

It might’ve been the card game, but for whatever reason, Walker was looking for a fight.

Cain inched his way a little closer, wondering what the pair were fighting over. He kept his back turned, until he found a table close by. Walker was arguing with MacKinloch, and his voice held hatred. “You said you’d pay. I want my damned money, you neep-headed bastard.”

“Ye’ll get it,” MacKinloch countered.

“You never had it, did you? You lied.” A moment later, Walker shoved the table aside, and the cards went scattering. “I swear to God, you’ll regret cheating me.”