Emma clenched her fists together in her lap. There was a buzzing in her hands, and she couldn’t seem to stop it. “How terrible.”
“Short of outright murder—which I preferred wholeheartedly—I challenged him to a duel to force him to retract his lies about Rowena. Arthur stepped up as my second, as angry as me about what had happened. Or so I thought.”
“Wait, what’s a ‘second’?”
Patiently, he explained, “Someone—a friend, a brother—of your choosing to have yer back. To be sure nothing goes wrong. That the other party is no’ planning to bring a load of lads to ambush you in case it does. They load and check the weapons.
“And after he did, Arthur looked me dead in the eye as he gave me my pistol. ‘Kill him,’ he told me, and for the first time, we agreed on something.”
“Did Violet know what was about to happen? If it were me, I would have tried to stop you. I would have tried anything.”
“Ye would’ve stopped nothin’. Let his lies stand? No.” Connor lifted a handful of stone dust in his hand and tossed it to the wind, where it drifted past her. “But I haven’t gotten to the good part yet.”
“Go on, then.”
“Ye see, Arthur misloaded my pistol. I pointed it at Sykes’s heart, the hammer slammed shut. Nothing. I looked at Arthur, but he just shrugged with a look that told me it had been intentional just before Sykes’s bullet found my chest. My blood was on his hands, every bit as much as the man who’d ruined our sister’s good name. Ye see, he’d planned it all with Sykes, ruined our sister’s name, watched me die. All so he could be named duke.”
“Oh, Connor!” She reached for his hand. “How awful. What did Sykes get out of it?”
“He got you. Or Violet, as you like. Sykes leaned over me as I lay bleedin’ out on the heather and made sure I knew Violet had already been his and would be his wife after I was gone.”
“What?”
“And that is exactly what happened.”
“No! I would never—!”
His expression flattened with self-righteousness as she put herself in Violet’s shoes. “But she did. Which explains why she never came that day or even tried to comfort poor Rowena, who was her friend.
“And Rowena…she’d been just a pawn in my brother’s scheme to get my father’s title. And in exchange for this little plot of theirs, Sykes would steal away the woman he’d coveted, the woman I’d loved.”
“Oh, Connor. How terrible.” That story burrowed itself deep inside her, ripping at parts of her she’d never known were there. “But Violet—why would she—? How do you know she really—?”
“Because she did, in fact, marry the man who killed me,” he snarled. “Bore him children. And lived wi’ him till the day she died.”
Emma leaned her head back against the stone. She had nothing to say to that except if it was true, he had every reason to hate Violet. The woman’s betrayal still ate away at him after all this time. It explained so much. Somehow, he blamed her—Emma—for Violet’s apparent infidelity. But that story made no sense to her, deep down—soul deep.
“And your brother? What happened to him?”
“He lived a short, unhappy life, childless wi’ a woman who didna love him. His death,” he added, “was slow and painful.”
“You watched her? After?”
“No. I couldna watch. I learned of it later.”
Emma blinked. “And this story about Violet’s betrayal,” she said carefully, “the story that came from Sykes’s own mouth. You know this to be true?”
Connor turned her way with a curious expression. “I told you. She married the man and lived with him until her dying d—”
“Willingly? You’re sure of this?”
His jaw worked as he tried to contain whatever he was thinking of her now.
“I’m only saying,” she went on, “what if he lied about her? What if she had nothing to do with what happened? What if—”
“She knew of the duel. Arthur warned me she’d heard of it and was bound to come. But she never did. Just as well, I suppose, that I didna have t’ look her in the eye.” He lifted his gaze to Emma. “Not till now.”
Ouch.She stood and turned to look out over the moor. The cool breeze buffeted them gently. “I suppose you feel better now. Having me to blame for what happened?”
