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  “The time I spent searching for information on the earl and the Frenchman was a waste of time.” Wrinkles formed on Peter’s forehead. “I should have been looking for Leon Picard.”

  “If you have new information on any of those names,” Ian said, “share it with us now.”

  “I have no knowledge of Leon Picard. But while working at the inn, I met a man who once lived in Rosslyn. He was on his way to London and stopped at the inn for the night. I had the opportunity to talk with him as he ate his supper, and after giving him a few coins, he told me things I will never forget.” Peter stopped for a moment and shook his head as if he hesitated to say more. “According to the traveler, some of the members of the Spiritualist Society here in Fairs are also members of the Spiritualist Society of Rosslyn, Scotland. And somehow, they are connected to a group of men who lived in France long ago—a group called the Knights Templar. Some think these knights later came to Scotland and are associated with a chapel in Rosslyn.”

  “Did you say Knights Templar?” Ian asked. “I read about them in a book in Monsieur Gabeau’s—I mean in Leon Picard’s library. Evidently, these men committed heresies—crimes so evil some were burned at the stake. However, the pages telling of their crimes were ripped from the book. So I was unable to learn the details of these crimes I so wished to know.”

  Peter shrugged. “Who can say whether or not the story is true.” He glanced down at his hands. “Some say the Knights went to Jerusalem during the Crusades and did some digging there. They uncovered something—something important. They must have found gold because they came home rich men. But they also exposed a secret of some kind.”

  “What was it, Peter?” Ian demanded. “Tell us.”

  “Nobody knows. But the traveler said that some in the group at Rosslyn say that the Knights found a human head that was cut off from its body. It could be a skull or an actual head that was preserved in some way. Others say it was a crystal skull and not human at all. But whether crystal skull or preserved head, the thing was evil.” He shook his head again. “I dare not say more.”

  “Please,” Ian insisted. “Tell us all you know.”

  “The traveler said that the skull or head was able to—was able to speak—tell the Knights things they would not know otherwise, and that the knights worshipped the evil thing.”

  “Enough!” Shannon shivered, putting her hands over her ears. “Stop such talk at once. Otherwise, I am sure I will be sick.”

  Peter and Ian promised to say no more, also assuring her that they had nothing to worry about. Perhaps the stories were merely myths. But Shannon saw the look in her brother’s eyes when he told that tale, and she felt sure that Peter believed every word of it.

  “If it was true,” Ian put in, “to worship such a relic or anything but God alone is idolatry. Let us hope it is merely a fable.”

  Nevertheless, Ian and Peter looked back down the road they were traveling on when they thought Shannon wasn’t watching. Maybe those stories about the earl and the Frenchman with regard to the doings at Rosslyn were truer than Peter and Ian were willing to admit.

  “Peter and I decided not to stay at inns or eat our meals there until we are far, far from Gatehaven,” Ian said. “Later, we will stop near a lake and go fishing.”

  “Fishing?” Shannon repeated. “Whatever for?”

  “Food, lass. Our fish supper will be cooked over an open fire. Lord Wilburn told of lakes and streams that hold an abundance of fish. He also informed me that he kept poles for fishing and hooks under the seats of this carriage for just such outings.”

  Shannon was forced to sit alone in the carriage while Peter, Cally, Ian and all but the carriage driver went fishing in a nearby stream.

  A few minutes later, the driver said that he wanted to take a short walk in the woods, leaving Shannon alone in the carriage.

  She pressed her body against the seat’s wooden back. Her ankle didn’t hurt as much as it had earlier. She closed her eyes.

  Shannon heard a noise—like horse’s hooves—close by. She turned and looked toward the sound. A lone rider approached, and her all alone inside the carriage. Trembling, she searched for a weapon but didn’t see anything.

  The rider dismounted.

  Shannon stiffened. She still hadn’t seen his face. She leaned forward and focused her attention on her hurting ankle.

  “Good day,” she heard the earl say.

  Shannon froze. The earl found her. Nobody could rescue her this time.

  The earl tied his horse to a bush near the carriage, blocking the animal from view.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  MADAM,” THE EARL said. “Is it possible that you saw two young women and two men on the road today?”

  Anger swelled within her. If I had, I would not tell you.

  But if she hoped to survive, she must become like an actress on a stage. She must pretend that her feelings for the earl had not changed. She lifted her head and looked at the earl face-to-face.

  “Miss Aimee?” the earl said with a look of surprise.

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “My love,” he said. “You cannot know how glad I am to find you.”

  “And I you,” she lied.

  “You must have been frightened when someone hit me over the head. No wonder you ran away. But what are you doing in a carriage like this— and all alone, too?”

  “Alas, my wicked brother and Ian Colquhoun forced me into this carriage and are driving me back to Scotland.”

  “And against your will,” he concluded. “My poor darling. Where are they now?”

  “In the woods—fishing if you can believe it.”

  “Fishing. And they left you here all alone?”

  She sniffed for a better effect. “Yes.”

  “Have no fear, my inspiration. I am here now.” He opened the carriage door on her side. Then he motioned for her to move in order to make room for him.

  She lifted her leg and groaned as she inched to the other side of the seat. Once settled, she groaned one more time but even louder.

  “My dear, are you in pain?”

  “Yes. I have injured my ankle again.” She bit her lower lip so he would think the pain was greater than it actually was.

  “I shall take you back to Gatehaven and notify your physician at once.”

  “You are always so thoughtful and kind, my lord. But will we ever marry?”

  “Of course. We shall marry as soon as we arrive in Gatehaven—whether my mother likes it or not. “

  Shannon knew his words of love were all lies. Nevertheless, she looked up at him with the eyes of an innocent schoolgirl and smiled in hopes of keeping him off guard.

  “If only we could go back to Gatehaven,” she finally said. “But that might not be the best way to—”

  “To what?” he asked.

  “As I said, I have hurt my ankle again and must be seen by a physician before we ride on. This cannot wait. My physician from Fairs said that my ankle would be weak for some time to come, and if I injured it again, I could become a cripple.”

  “A cripple?”

  “Yes.” She sniffed again.

  “I will not allow that to happen, dear one.”

  “Do you remember that on our way to Gatehaven, we stayed the night at an inn in the village of Petre?”

  “I do recall that, yes.”

  “Before we left, the Innkeeper told that he had a brother who was a physician. Petre is not far from here. But Gatehaven is half a day’s ride. If I rode on with you, I would tire quickly. The pain in my leg would force us to stop and rest often. Worst of all, my brother and Ian Colquhoun would catch up with us, and they have footmen with them that could be armed.”

  “Then what would you suggest we do, my love?”

  “Go to Petre now, and wait for me at the inn. When we arrive, I will have my ankle seen by the physician and prepare to spend the night.”

  “And then?” he said.

  “I will knock on your door tonight when
everyone else is asleep. And we will ride away together.”

  “How will you knock on my door tonight?” he asked. “You said you were unable to walk.”

  “I will crawl to your door on my hands and knees if I have to.”

  He laughed. “You still love me that much?”

  She gazed up at him and forced a tender expression. “You know I do.”

  “Then give me a kiss,” he said, “and I will go.”

  Shannon had no wish to see the earl again much less kiss his lying lips. But in order for her plan to work, she had no choice but to kiss him.

  Ian was not comfortable leaving Shannon alone in the carriage even though the driver stood watch. He left the others fishing and set out for the carriage to make sure she was all right. He had heard her tell her brother that she hated the Earl of Northon, now that she knew him to be an evil man, and she’d seemed much more interested in Ian as a possible suitor since she left Gatehaven. This had given him a reason to hope.

  Now as he stood in the bushes nearby, he heard voices. The driver was nowhere to be seen. Yet someone was inside that carriage with Shannon. Ian’s jaw tightened. Had the driver lost his wits? Was he inside that carriage treating Shannon in unseemly ways?

  His hands became fists.

  Ian wanted to open that carriage door and punch the intruder again and again. But he could have a gun. If Ian opened that door, he could kill Shannon. Better to sneak a look through the window first and learn the situation before putting her in even more danger.

  He crept closer to the carriage. The voices he’d heard earlier vanished. He tensed. Had the intruder already killed Shannon?

  Ian cast his eyes inside the carriage. A man held Shannon close, kissing her again and again. Ian stiffened. The intruder wasn’t the driver. He wore the stylish clothes of an English gentleman. Ian drew back his arm. He wouldn’t open that door and hit the man in the face.

  The kisses ended. The couple drew apart slightly.

  “I love you my little turtle dove,” Ian heard the Earl of Northon say.

  “And I you,” Shannon replied.

  Ian’s heart knotted. He stepped back—out of view.

  He felt as if all love and emotion were drained from his body. Only his love for God remained. His hopes—his dreams of a future with Shannon—were gone forever. He’d played the fool for too long. Now he would give up the chase—let Shannon go.

  He tried to swallow a lump that had formed in his throat. Shannon would never be his wife. It still seemed hard to believe. After all that had happened, she still loved the earl.

  Hidden among the trees and bushes, Ian waited until the earl rode away and the driver was once again perched on the top of the carriage. Then he went back and joined the others at the fishing hole, pretending that life was never better.

  But all he could think about was one thing. He would never trust Shannon again.

  When Shannon could no longer see the earl on his black gelding, she released a deep sigh. He’d kissed her one more time before he left, and the nasty taste of it still lingered in her mouth. She leaned her head out the window of the carriage and spat. It didn’t help. She still felt dirty.

  Shannon longed to be held in Ian’s arms—to tell him that she loved him—that she had always loved him. She wanted his love—not the earl’s. She wished to drive away from this dreadful place. What was keeping Ian and the rest of the fishing party?

  They soon arrived. Ian hardly seemed to notice her. She would have expected him to walk over to the carriage and stick his head inside—see how she had faired while he was away. Instead, he helped her brother gather wood, and they built a fire in an opening near the carriage.

  When they finished eating, Ian, Peter, and Cally climbed back inside the carriage. Ian sat as far from Shannon as he possibly could. Then they rode away.

  Shannon tried to explain what happened while they were fishing. But Ian didn’t appear to be listening.

  “Now we must avoid all inns until we cross over into Scotland,” Peter said. “We will fish or kill animals for our food. The women will sleep in the carriage at night. The rest of us will sleep on the grounds outside.” He glanced at Ian. “Is that all right with you, Mr. Colquhoun?”

  Ian nodded without expression. “Whatever you decide is all right with me.”

  During the journey home, Shannon heard Peter announce that he and Kate planned to marry soon after he arrived. Apparently, Peter hoped she would agree to marry him aboard the ship—the ship that would carry them to the colonies.

  After he finished speaking, Shannon spent time thinking about the colonies and wondering. Her parents would expect her to go to the colonies with them now, and after all that had happened, the thought of going sounded better somehow. She also wondered why Ian seemed so cold toward her. If only she could tell him how she really felt about him. But he was so distant—as if an invisible door separated them now.

  She thought of the portrait the Frenchman showed her of the young woman who looked very much like Shannon. But maybe it looked even more like her mother at a young age.

  These and other thoughts rolled about in her mind during the long journey to Scotland. She wondered what the earl must have thought when she and her party never showed up at the inn. But her main concern was whether they would arrive in Luss in time to save her parents and baby brother. If she’d done as her father asked, she would never have traveled to England in the first place.

  But mostly, she thought of Ian, wishing he knew how much she loved him. She was not opposed to telling him face-to-face exactly how she felt. But he didn’t appear interested in hnearing anything she had to say.

  Two days after Shannon and Cally left for Scotland, Leon heard a knock at his door.

  “Answer the door,” he yelled to Sally, the new cook his driver found for him in the village of Fairs.

  She didn’t reply.

  That defective old woman was probably in the kitchen house, cooking his noon meal. And his driver was in the carriage house. He frowned and reached for his cane. It was bad enough that the latest meeting of the Spiritualist Society fell flat. But now he could not depend on his servants when he really needed them. The muscles around his mouth tightened as he hobbled to the door and opened it.

  The Earl of Northon stood before him, and he wasn’t smiling. “May I come in?”

  Leon Picard frowned. “Come in then. And I have to say that I am quite put out with you, my lord. Why did you miss the recent meeting of the Spiritualist Society? My word, it was held at Gatehaven. You could at least have climbed up to the fourth floor and explained why we had no sacrifice. One of our members had each of us cut a finger so the ceremony would not be a total loss, but that did little good I am afraid.”

  “I dislike hearing stories like that, Frenchman—even in private. It is unsettling to say the least.”

  “When did such news start bothering you, my lord? You’ve always relished such tales.”

  “People can change, you know.” The earl walked inside and slumped down onto Leon’s favorite chair by the fireplace. “The young woman, Miss Aimee, and Cally, another of our girls, escaped. That is why we had no sacrifice. I went after them and managed to speak with Miss Aimee.”

  “Did you bring her back?”

  “Unfortunately, I did not.” The earl leaned forward in his chair and appeared to be looking at a speck of something on the floor. “She betrayed me.”

  “Betrayed you? Then you must go after both young women at once and bring them back.” Leon lifted one dark brow. “If you expect me to destroy your gambling debt, you will go at once.”

  “That will not be necessary.” The earl sent Leon a hard look. “I just received word that the young woman I courted in London has accepted my proposal of marriage. She is very rich.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “Therefore, I have no need for you to pay my gambling debts any longer. I shall be coming into a great deal of money soon. And I am told that my betrothed and her fa
mily are very religious. She and her father will not like to learn of our meetings on the top floor of the mansion or what goes on there. So from this day forth, I am no longer a member of the society. There will be no more meetings at Gatehaven nor will young girls be held captive there against their will. If such meetings continue, they must be held elsewhere.” The earl stood and walked to the door. “Good day, Monsieur. I hope these new revelations will not cause you undo difficulties. But in any case, I must ask you not to visit my home again. The young lady’s father would not be pleased to learn that we were once friends.” The earl grabbed his hat and umbrella from the table by the door.

  Leon stared at his back until the earl went out and slammed the door behind him.

  Of course Leon was disappointed that he no longer had a hold on the earl’s life. At the same time, he was glad to see that the earl finally stood up and acted like a man. He’d always hated weakness, including his own.

  Leon limped back to his chair and sat down. Without the earl’s backing, he could be in trouble with the law. Perhaps it was time for him to relocate.

  A mental picture of Rachel’s beautiful face came into his mind. The edges of Leon’s lips turned up in a smile. He could move to Scotland if he wished. Or he could sail for the colonies. The earl had said that Shannon and her family hoped to move to Charles Towne.

  His spies informed him that the wife he abandoned years ago and his son, Leon Picard II, had moved to Charles Towne. The boy would be a man now. Perhaps he still lived there.

  If not Scotland, he would go to the colonies. Yes, that was exactly what he would do. But not before he paid the earl back for walking away.

  He would write a letter to a high official he knew with the government in London, and as Etienne Gabeau, he would say he had a change of heart. He would tell all he knew about the Spiritualist Society and about the doings on the fourth floor. However, he would wait until he reached Plymouth before mailing the letter. Then Etienne Gabeau would become Leon Picard once again.