A Scot to the Heart (Desperately Seeking Duke #2) - Caroline Linden Page 0,96

deterred and argued her way past the butler.

“What are you planning?” she demanded breathlessly upon bursting into the drawing room.

Ilsa squeezed her hands into fists. “What do you mean?”

Her friend closed the door with a bang. “I saw it in the papers, that your father contacted you. Was it really a confession?”

“Of course not! He’s innocent!”

Agnes nodded. “I know. But I also know you, Ilsa. What are you going to do?”

She hesitated. Would Agnes tell anyone—specifically her brother? Unwillingly she thought of Drew; he had been gone three weeks now. He must have been delayed at the fort.

Not that she could ask him to help her, not with this. Ilsa was keenly aware that she was probably breaking some law. Drew had his family to think of, his future position, the duchess whose displeasure he feared. “I don’t know what you mean. What could I do?”

Agnes’s eyes darkened in anguish. “The rumors—”

Her spine went rigid. “They’re wrong.” She turned away. “I don’t listen to them.”

There was a rustle, and Agnes appeared in front of her, taking her hands. “You don’t have to be alone. Let me help you.”

She struggled. Agnes was intelligent and thoughtful, and Ilsa was about to explode from the anxiety building inside her. But telling Agnes would make her friend an accomplice. What if she argued against it? Ilsa couldn’t spare any of the hope and bravado she’d scraped together. “What would you do?” she asked, unable to resist. “If it were your father.”

Her friend didn’t hesitate. “Go after him. Demand an explanation. I would want to know the truth, and why he fled and left me to face the storm alone. I—I would need to see him again because I would not be able to believe it without that.”

Her lips parted in gratitude, and she gripped Agnes’s hands. “Yes,” she said in a low voice. “Exactly.”

Agnes gave a nod. “Let me go with you.”

“Absolutely not.” Ilsa released her and stepped back. “You know nothing about anything.” Sheriff Cockburn had already come to see her again, stern-faced and curt. Mr. MacGill had told him about the letter, though not the horrible, guilty things it said. Ilsa had had to show the sheriff the letter. Brazenly she told him she did not think it was Papa’s handwriting, and that she thought it was an attempt to cast false aspersions on her father. The sheriff hadn’t been convinced, but he’d gone away.

Frowning in frustration, Agnes paced away. “When are you leaving?”

Ilsa said nothing. After a moment Agnes sighed and came to embrace her. “Promise you’ll be careful,” she whispered tearfully.

That, at least, she could do. Ilsa nodded. “Would you look in on Robert?” she asked on impulse. “It would be a great comfort to me.”

“Of course! We shall walk him out every day and spoil him with apples and carrots.”

Ilsa managed to smile.

“I would do more,” said Agnes urgently. “We all would. Drew—”

Ilsa held up a hand to stop her. Even if Drew were here, she couldn’t ask him for help. And Drew wasn’t here, so it didn’t matter anyway. “No, Agnes. There’s nothing you can do.”

Only she could do this, and the fewer people who knew about it, the better.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Drew rode into Edinburgh late, later than he should have been on the road, but heavy rain had made the journey agonizingly long.

Felix Duncan leapt up at his entrance. “There you are!”

“Had to go by way of Aberdeen. A bridge near Croy was washed out.” He peeled off his dirt-caked coat. “What’s happened?”

It had been six days since Duncan’s letter reached him in Ardersier. It had taken the messenger three days to get there from Edinburgh. Nine days without information had nearly driven him mad.

Duncan followed him into the other room. “I wrote to you as soon as I heard a whisper of Fletcher’s name. The sheriff was reluctant to act on rumor—the deacon sits on the bloody town council—but things have got worse. Fletcher tried to see Browne, who’s claiming the pardon, in prison—”

“What?”

“Aye. He was allegedly there to see a lad in for nicking some bread from a grocer, and asked to see the famous thief, recently caught. The keeper refused and he wasn’t pleased by it. The next day he left Edinburgh on an early coach, with no word to anyone. Told his servants and foreman he would be gone a few days and gave them leave.”

“That looks guilty as sin.”

Duncan made a grimace of agreement.

“And what of Ilsa?” Drew splashed water on his head.