‘Usually, I come prepared,’ I replied with a hint of snottiness. I waited for a moment but he didn’t move. ‘You can let me go, you know,’ I told him.
For a second, his arms tightened as if he were afraid to let go. Then he released me and I stood up and began searching for my clothing.
‘Tell me,’ I said, finding my T-shirt underneath a chair and pulling it over my head, ‘why are you sneaking into your own house?’
‘It’s part of my plan.’ He tugged on his trousers. ‘I meant what I said. When I realised what my father was really doing – what he’d done – I started looking for ways to stop him.’
I paused. ‘So you believe me now?’
Byron’s answer was grim and he was telling the truth. ‘Yes.’ Still shirtless, he took my hands. ‘My father killed your parents and committed genocide against your entire Clan. He plotted to have you killed as well. And he’s probably in league with the Fomori demons.’ He drew in a breath. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t believe you before. And, trite as it sounds, on behalf of Clan Moncrieffe I am sorry for the wrongs done to you.’
Suddenly there was a painful lump in my throat. ‘Thank you.’ My fingers grazed the rough stubble on his cheek. ‘But it’s not your fault. Are you … are you okay?’
‘I’ve had a while to get used to the idea.’ He laughed harshly. ‘For a long time I was more fixated on the fact that you were dead.’
I swallowed. ‘How long have you known the truth?’
‘Eighty-two days. That’s how long you’ve been gone, Integrity. Eighty-two fucking days. I found out about an hour after you…’ He cursed and stared at me with an uncomfortable intensity.
Shite. That long? ‘I’m sorry too.’ I meant it with every atom of my being but words couldn’t compensate for the agony in his eyes. ‘I’m sorry I pretended I was dead. It wasn’t done to hurt you. I really didn’t think I had a choice.’ His eyes glittered in the faint light. I frowned. ‘Are you crying?’
Byron didn’t hesitate. ‘Yes.’
For some reason that scared me more than anything else. ‘Oh. Okay then.’
‘Does that make me less of a man?’
I smiled. ‘No.’
We grinned at each other like idiots until Byron glanced at his watch. ‘Damn it. We need to get a move on. I’ve got things to do and I have to get back to Perth before dawn.’ He pulled away and finished dressing.
‘Why? What exactly is going on?’
‘My father’s study. He must have papers in there which either incriminate him or provide more information about what he’s up to. I’ve been through what he has in the Cruaich and came up short. It makes sense that he’d hide the important stuff here, where it’s less likely there will be any snoopers. Jamie arranged the stag party and invited everyone who might possibly get in my way or find out what I’m up to.’
‘The whole party is a ruse?’
‘Yeah.’ He looked embarrassed for a moment. ‘I wasn’t expecting a stripper though.’
I smirked. ‘You fancied me.’
‘You had a great body.’
‘Had?’
‘That’s not what I meant.’ Byron coughed while my smile grew. ‘She reminded me of you. You reminded me of you.’ He shook his head. ‘Never mind. Let’s not get into this now.’
I nodded but there was one other thing. ‘Candy,’ I said quietly. ‘And Tipsania.’
Byron sighed. ‘I know. I needed my father to believe I’d do what he wanted. Candy agreed to help. I knew Tipsania was probably still hiding at your Clan Lands so I was going to wait until the last minute and go down there with him.’
‘You’d threaten to hurt him if she didn’t come out.’
He looked away. ‘Yes. I need everyone to think the wedding is going ahead. I wouldn’t have actually hurt him.’
It wasn’t a very sound plan and I wasn’t ready to let him off the hook completely. ‘You said you weren’t going to marry her.’ So that I didn’t come over as a whiny sort-of-ex-girlfriend, I added, ‘Tipsania doesn’t want you.’
‘I know. And I’m not. Trust me on this, Integrity, I’m really not going to say any vows. I didn’t think I’d ever get married after you…’ His voice faded and I watched him carefully. This wasn’t the Byron from before, it was an odd, contradictory mix; he was both harder and more vulnerable.
‘I need Tipsania there for the ceremony or my father won’t believe it’s real. He has to think that everything is as he wants it to be.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘All I requested was that the wedding take place on the Isle of Muck. My mother was from there so it was easy. It’s isolated and small and every damn Sidhe with an ounce of power in the Highlands will be there for it.’ He smiled humourlessly. ‘The Steward demands it. I’m going to wait until everyone is in the church and expose my father to the world for what he really is. There will be too many witnesses for him to escape.’ He paused while I tried to absorb his words. ‘That’s why we need to move. If I can find proof in his study of what he’s done, everyone will have to believe me. He won’t be able to wriggle out of it.’
Byron was either incredibly brilliant or incredibly na?ve; until I thought about his plan some more, I had no idea which. For now, however, I’d do whatever I could to help him. ‘Then,’ I said softly, ‘let’s get a move on.’
Chapter Ten
As we tiptoed out of the door and headed down a long, dark corridor, Byron insisted on holding of my hand. It was a bit weird and if I thought about it too much I’d probably have been annoyed but it was also oddly reassuring. To be fair, if I’d thought he’d died I might have not wanted to let go of him either. I kept my mouth shut and let him lead me past old portraits of frowning Moncrieffe Clan Chieftains until we reached a set of stairs down to the ground floor.
‘His study is that door at the bottom on the right,’ Byron whispered. ‘He keeps it locked when he’s not here and no one ever goes inside. I think I’ve only been in on six or seven occasions in my entire life.’
I couldn’t help being reminded of the Bull and his own special snowflake version. These old men with their secrets. I shook my head. Idiots.
We waited for a moment or two. When Byron was confident that everyone in the castle was either asleep or elsewhere, we padded down to the door. I reached up to my hair for the tiny lock pick I’d concealed there but Byron was prepared. As I watched, open-mouthed, he pulled his own version from his pocket, knelt down and got to work.
‘You have been busy,’ I murmured.
‘I’ve not been twiddling my thumbs for the last few months, Integrity,’ he sniped, obviously still not completely over the news of my resurrection.
It took him more time than it would have taken me but he managed to get the door open. Go, Byron. With a swift glance at me, he nodded and we entered. In comparison to the Bull’s study, this place was far neater. Other than old books on the shelves, there was little on display. The room possessed a certain shabby chic which, had I not known what Aifric was like, might have made me admire him.
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