Page 126 of Death at a Highland Wedding
McCreadie looks to me to take over. He’s too close to this.
“We know about your nephew,” I say. “Owen.”
Cranston flinches.
“Did you know about him before that trip?” I ask. “Or did you figure it out then?”
A humorless smile. “The boy looks as if someone painted a portrait that is half Violet and half Ezra. Even then, I presumed he was the unfortunate result of an ill-fated romance. I was upset with Ezra, but not ready to judge him. Ready to dig deeper, though? Yes. I needed to answer my own questions.”
Another dry smile as Cranston pats his horse. “I even considered hiring you or Duncan to do it, Hugh, but I could not expose Violet’s secret in that way. So I found another man who does such things. What he uncovered…” Cranston swallows. “And yet, fool that I am, I continued to deny it. I wanted to think that my sister and my best friend had a youthful entanglement that ended in a child, and that he cared for Violet and never mistreated her.”
“What changed your mind?” I ask.
“After the business with the wildcat, I tried to fire Müller. Müller said I would regret it. He taunted me with hints about Ezra and the maids. Lenore for one, and also Dorothy. His hints mirrored the horrible rumors my man had heard, and so I could no longer deny them. Nor could I pretend Ezra had nothing but an ill-considered romance with Violet. He hurt her, and if I did not see that in the way she had withdrawn into melancholia, the way she looked at him now, then I was a blinkered fool, a selfish oaf who saw only what he wanted to see. My sister was in torment being here, not with you, Hugh, but with Ezra, and then he was fawning over Fiona and I realized he had set his sights on my bride, despite the fact she obviously had no interest in him. I feared he might notlether refuse.”
He inhales sharply. “I saw him leave that night. I took the shillelagh to threaten him. Thump him with it if I needed to. That had never been my way, so I thought threatening physical violence would convey the depths of my rage. Then, as I searched for where he had gone, I saw Violet by the lake, and I knew he was meeting her. She did not notice me, but I saw her, how tormented she looked, and when I found him…”
His voice drops. “I came up from behind him, and I struck him, meaning only to knock him down. I did not even think I had hit him that hard.”His lips twist. “I suppose that is what comes from not fighting, when you are as big as I am. You do not know how hard you have struck.”
Cranston gazes out over the field, as if seeing himself and Sinclair there. “When he fell, I still did not think I had truly harmed him. I put my foot on his back to hold him down while I told him that I knew the truth and I never wanted to see him again. He did not answer. Did not move. That is when I bent and saw his eyes shut. I even opened his lids, being so utterly convinced that he must be feigning death.”
“Youwantedme to investigate, Archie,” McCreadie says. “Constable Ross’s case would not have held up in court, yet you did not want him. You wanted me. That makes no sense.”
Cranston looks out over the field. “I did not mean to kill him, but I did. There are repercussions for that. I may have teased you, but I know you are an excellent detective. If you did not solve the case, then perhaps Fate decreed my crime did not deserve punishment.”
McCreadie growls in frustration. “That is not how it works.”
He’s right, of course, but in some deep-seated way, I understand Cranston’s magical thinking. He felt guilty, and he did not want to get off on the technicality of having the case investigated by an amateur. He wanted some sort of divine absolution, and he didn’t get it.
“I understand where you need to take me, Hugh,” Cranston says. “But is there any chance you would go back to the house and wait for me there?”
“Allowing you to flee on horseback?” McCreadie says.
Cranston’s voice drops even lower. “I will not pull our friendship into this. Nor will I pull in Fiona, and what a murder trial would do to your sister.”
“But youdomention it.”
Cranston shakes his head. “This is about more than me and even your sister. It is about my own sister. There is a chance the courts could set me free. Perhaps even a good chance that I would avoid the hangman. But at what cost? I am asking you to let me face a life on the run to avoid exposing Violet and Lenore and the others to the horrors of a trial. Please. Allow me to run, even if a court might not send me to hang. I will leave the country, taking only the clothes on my back and the few pounds in my pocket. Nothing else.”
“No.” The voice comes from the trees to our left, and Fiona strides out. “You will also take me.”
Cranston blinks. Then he recovers and says smoothly, “You should wait at the house, Fiona.”
“I am not a child, despite what you seem to think, Archie.”
“Fiona,” McCreadie says. “Please wait—”
“Not. A. Child,” she says to her brother, and then turns to Cranston. “I heard what you said. I know what you did and while you were vague on the details, I believe I understand what Ezra did. To Violet and other women. What he planned to do to me. In confronting him, you accidentally killed him. So you believe you must flee, and if you do, I will go with you.”
“You cannot—”
“I certainly can, being anadult.Would you leave me behind to suffer whatever comes?”
“I—”
“You would leave to protect Violet from a trial and from the shame of having an illegitimate child. Yes, that would hurt her. But your leaving would hurt me. People would say that you fled the country to avoid marrying me. What do you think becomes of me after that? Look at your sister for the answer—and in her case, it was a polite parting of the ways, notfleeing the country.”
“I will ensure no one thinks you were responsible—”
