Rory (26 page)

Poor Zachary.

“Shannon!” The cry came from a long way away, but she
heard it. She stopped in her tracks and closed her eyes, concentrating on the direction it had come from as her name was shouted yet again.

Her heart leapt to her throat.

It was Clinton, not Zachary. A chill rushed up her spine. She was close to the road. She could even hear an approaching carriage. Breaking into a run, she raced for the road and the carriage.

She heard a curse behind her, could hear the sound of him running in her direction. Glancing back, she could see where her footsteps had made a path in the dew-covered grass.

Worse still, her skirts hampered her progress, but she lifted them to her thighs and ran for all she was worth. “Help!” she yelled, and swore she heard the carriage start to slow down.

“Help me!” she screamed louder, seeing the road now and the approaching carriage. The driver was looking into the trees frantically, and in the carriage, a man and woman stared out the windows. Behind them was another carriage.

She would be safe …
if
she could make it to the road before Clinton caught her.

Something whizzed by her head and she ducked just in time. A knife lay lodged in a nearby tree. The same knife Clinton had held at her throat now rested deep in the bark.

He couldn’t be far away.

“Help!” she said, breaking through the trees and onto the road. The coachman’s eyes widened in surprise and he brought the horses to a halt. The man inside the carriage opened the door and rushed toward her, while the driver scurried down, a rifle in hand, his gaze scouring the woods.

“Who is after you?” the man urged. He was at least fifty years old and dressed in the clothing of a gentleman.

“His name is Clinton O’Connor. My cousin. He killed my parents and he has my brother.”

“Good God,” the woman in the carriage said. “How utterly terrifying.”

As the other carriage pulled up alongside, three men poured out. “What is it, my lord?”

“This woman is being pursued by a man.”

“He is through there,” she said, pointing in the direction she had just come. “Be careful. He threw a knife at me, and I have no idea if he has other weapons on his person.”

A man rushed over to the tree and pulled the knife out. “Fetch my pistol,” he said, and the driver did exactly that.

“I have to go to my brother,” Shannon said, relieved that she had found help but still terrified for her brother. “My cousin has him hostage in a shack not far from here.”

“Can we get there by carriage?” the woman asked.

“I do not know. If we go north and then break west, perhaps.”

The gentleman shook his head. “I will not put you in harm’s way, my dear. Plus, this poor girl has been through enough. You will stay here, and Marcus will stand guard. I shall send Travis ahead. He is the fastest rider, and we will follow on horseback, scouring the woods in case he’s hiding amongst the trees.”

The woman motioned Shannon into the carriage. “My dear girl, what you must have gone through, I can only imagine.” She gave a shudder.

“Marcus, pull the carriage off the road. Unhook two of the team.”

“Be careful, my love,” the woman said to her husband.

He nodded and looked at Shannon. “We shall get this scoundrel. Rest assured.”

Rory saw the carriages ahead of him in the roadway and had a feeling that they had finally found Shannon. A mixture of fear
and excitement rushed through his veins, and he prayed that she was alive.

“My lord,” Johnny said, nodding toward a man who walked toward them, gun pointed square at their chests.

The young footman had insisted on traveling with him, and Rory had been grateful for his help, especially given he was the one who had last seen Zachary and Shannon. He had been an excellent tracker too. He said he’d spent long days in the highlands with his father, securing meat for his master’s table.

They had tracked Shannon and Zachary’s footsteps for a few miles, but once they came to the river, they’d lost them and had traveled to the main road.

“We are looking for a woman,” Rory said, approaching the man, who did not lower the gun.

“Who are you?” the beefy man asked.

“Lord Ambrose, and this is Johnny. We are searching for a young woman named Shannon O’Connor.”

“What does this girl look like?”

“Pale blond hair, light blue eyes, black cloak.”

“Are you the cousin?”

“No, I am her fiancé,” Rory replied, and Johnny’s eyes widened.

“Where is the woman?”

The man shifted the gun so it was no longer pointed toward them. “There,” he said, motioning to the first carriage in line, where a driver stood on the perch, rifle in hand, scanning the area.

“Shannon,” Rory shouted, and he heard her cry out.

“Rory!” She came rushing from the carriage, her hair a tangled mess, tears staining her cheeks.

Relief washed over him as he met her halfway and held her tight in his arms. “Shannon, you are all right. Thank God.”

“Clinton has found us, Rory,” she said, fear shining in her
eyes. “My cousin who killed my parents and now he wants us dead. I think he’s hurt Zachary.”

Rory’s heart dropped to his feet. “Where is Zachary?”

“I left him back at an old shack through the trees.” She pointed to the northwest. “If you head past the clearing, you should see it.”

“My husband and some of our men have gone in pursuit,” the lady said from the carriage. “They will find him.”

“Will you be all right here?” Rory asked, kissing Shannon’s forehead. He really didn’t want to leave her, but he needed to find Zachary and fast.

“Yes.”

“We have Marcus,” the lady said. “He has a sharp eye, and I will not let any harm come to her. You have my word on it.”

Making sure Shannon was settled back in the carriage, Rory mounted his horse and waited for Johnny to do the same.

“Be careful, Rory. He’s crazy … and desperate.”

R
ory found Clinton within a quarter of an hour. He lay sprawled facedown on the ground, his hands tied behind his back.

“Where is Zachary?” Rory asked him, only to receive a sneer for his trouble.

Rory dismounted, grabbed him by the back of the neck, and lifted him off the ground. “I asked you where Zachary is.”

Clinton spit on him.

Rage made him want to snap the man in two. Wiping the spit off his face with his free hand, Rory released him, and Clinton laughed under his breath.

The gentleman approached him and introduced himself as Samuel Clemens. “He has blood on his right hand,” Samuel said, and Rory could read the concern in his eyes.

A shiver rushed along his spine. “Where is the shack, Clinton? In which direction?”

Clinton said nothing.

“Do you know the area?” Rory asked the gentleman.

“The only shack I can think of is an old hunting cabin near the lake.”

“Let’s go.”

Rory went down on his haunches beside Clinton. “If you have touched one hair on his head, I will kill you.”

“You should be thanking me. Zachary is the one who killed his parents.”

The men around Rory took a collective breath.

“No,” Rory said. “You are a liar. Do not try to pass off your cruel deeds on another.”

“Zachary set fire to the family home so that he would inherit everything.” Clinton didn’t so much as blink. “He was jealous of me. Mad that his father had given me so much power.”

The accusation took Rory aback. “Why did Shannon flee, then?”

“Shannon didn’t know her brother was responsible for the murders. I told her to run because I was afraid he would kill her as well since she knows the truth. He wants us both dead so that no one will know his secret.”

Johnny shook his head and walked toward his horse. “I will not stay a minute longer and listen to lies. I’m going to find the shack.”

Rory nodded.

“So Zachary ran in fear?” Samuel said, giving Rory a look that said to play along.

“Yes, he was desperate. He took his sister as leverage, but in time he had her believing it was me who was responsible.”

“Tell us where he is. We’ll go after him,” Samuel said, sounding cautious.

Clinton’s gaze shifted between Samuel and Rory, and his eyes narrowed seconds before he cursed under his breath.

Shannon couldn’t stand to wait in the carriage another minute. She had to see her brother or go mad. “Please, let me take a horse
and go to him.”

Mrs. Clemens shook her head. “I cannot be responsible if something happens to you, my dear.”

“The men are already far ahead of me. Surely they have found my cousin by now. I don’t care about him. I care about my brother. I cannot sit here and do nothing.”

The older woman bit her lip in indecision. “And I do not blame you. I would want to know my brother’s whereabouts as well.”

Shannon could tell Gladys was wavering. “I will tell Mr. Clemens that I ran before you could stop me.”

“You had better, because my husband will be furious with me.” Mrs. Clemens stepped out of the carriage with Shannon and looked at Marcus. “Go with her, Marcus. I shall take full responsibility.”

Marcus broached no argument and did as she said. He unbridled one of the horses and Shannon climbed behind the beefy servant.

“Thank you, Mrs. Clemens. I shall never forget your kindness.”

“Just come back safe, my dear,” Mrs. Clemens said, looking ready to change her mind.

Having ridden all her life, Shannon wanted desperately to take the reins and fly across the clearing, but all she could do was hold on to Marcus as he eased the mare into a gallop.

She could see nothing but the passing landscape, but soon he was slowing. It was then she recognized the pathway she had cut through the trees.

The one that led to the shack.

Her stomach lurched.

She very nearly let out a scream when she saw her cousin and then released a breath when she realized he was tied to a tree, and a man was standing guard with a rifle leveled at chest level.

Seeing Shannon, Clinton’s eyes widened.

Why was it so quiet? Especially given the fact there were so many of them in the shack.

“Zachary!” she yelled, pulling on the reins and jumping off the horse.

She was met at the door by Johnny. “No, Shannon. Ye don’t want to see him.”

Her heart lurched in her chest. “What do you mean?”

“It’s bad,” he said, his voice breaking.

She tried to look over his shoulder, but he blocked her.

“I want to see my brother.”

“He’s dead, Shannon,” Clinton said from where he stood nearby, chewing on a nail, his lips curved in a malicious smile.

Zachary was dead? She wavered on her feet, and Rory appeared, taking her in his arms.

A guttural moan caught in her throat and she couldn’t breathe.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he said, holding her tight. “He’s not dead, but he’s lost a lot of blood, Shannon.” His blue eyes were full of concern. “I don’t know if he’s going to make it.”

“I want to see him,” she said, her hands gripping the collar of his shirt. “Please, Rory. Let me see my brother.”

His gaze searched hers, and she could see the indecision in his face, the fear that she would not take whatever she was about to see well.

He nodded and released her. She rushed past Johnny and the others, who made a pathway.

Zachary lay with Rory’s jacket beneath his head. The lower half of his white linen shirt was soaked with blood, which was frightening, since from what Shannon could tell, the point of
entry had been near his groin. His black pants were soaked with blood, too, as was the floor beneath him.

“We can move him to my estate. I am renting a home a few
miles from here,” Mr. Clemens said. “I will send for the surgeon.”

“Zachary,” Shannon said, brushing his hair off his forehead.

He was so pale, his lips already had a purplish hue to them. His eyes fluttered open. Seeing her, his lips curved slightly. “You’re alive.”

“Yes, I’m alive, and so are you. We’ll be all right, Zach. Once you have recovered, we can return to Ireland and start over.”

“I didn’t kill them,” he said the words so softly she barely heard them.

“I know, Zach. I know. Clinton is a liar and a murderer, and he shall pay for what he has done.” Tears blinded her and she blinked them away.

“Shannon, time is of the essence,” Rory said from behind her. “Zachary, we are moving you to Mr. Clemens’s home. He lives nearby and it will not take long.”

“Do not bother. I am dying.”

“No,” Shannon said adamantly. “You will live.”

His eyes closed, as though he did not have the strength to keep them open, and Shannon looked at Rory with all the helplessness she felt.

“Zachary, they will be extremely careful, but you must be strong,” she said.

If he heard her, he gave no indication, slipping into unconsciousness.

The men slid him onto a blanket and lifted him.

“Please hurry,” Shannon said, fearful of the time it would take to return to the carriages and then onto the manor.

She followed the group out of the shack and stopped short seeing her cousin.

Seeing her, his lips curled into a triumphant smile. He looked maniacal, his eyes wild. “Ah, poor little Shannon. Soon ye will be all alone. No parents, no brother, nothing.”