The Capture of the Earl of Glencrae by Stephanie Laurens Page B

she holds Celia responsible for all that’s gone wrong in her miserable life. And because Celia won—despite everything Mirabelle did, your mother retained her hold over my father until the day he died, even though she’d never known anything about his obsession.” He paused. “As for the how . . .” Raising his glass, he sipped, then locked his gaze with hers. “All I have to do is seize one of Celia’s daughters, and ruin her.”
    Angelica stared into eyes that showed no hint whatever of any mental disturbance. He was utterly serious. “Ruin how, exactly?”
    He nodded. “I asked her that. Apparently I was to kidnap one of you—she didn’t care which one—and take you north to the castle, and by that act you would be socially ruined, and Mirabelle would have her revenge through knowing she’d caused Celia untold pain by wrecking the life of one of Celia’s daughters, in return for Celia wrecking hers.”
    Angelica studied him, his eyes, his expression, then asked, “Is your mother insane?”
    â€œOn this subject, so I would suppose. However, she’s otherwise perfectly lucid, and more than clever enough. Wherever she’s hidden the goblet, no one has been able to find it. We’ve searched high and low, multiple times. But the castle is huge, and old, and . . . we’re running out of time.”
    â€œIf she doesn’t give you the goblet, and you can’t give it to the bankers on the first of July, what will happen?”
    He hesitated, then, voice lower, replied, “The way the deal was done, the account, as it were, can only be settled with the goblet—no amount of money can stand in its place. If I don’t hand over the goblet on the first of July, I, and the clan, lose the castle and all clan lands—glen, loch, and forests—and all the clan businesses, too. The clan will be dispossessed and destitute. The collateral on which the deal was based was all clan assets.”
    â€œGood Lord— all ?”
    â€œAll.” His expression grew harsh. “It didn’t seem any great risk at the time—I had the goblet to complete the deal.” He refocused on her. “Now I don’t—which is why I need your help.”
    Her head was spinning; there was so much to take in. “Assuming I believe all this”—which she did; it was too fantastical a tale to concoct, and the man before her was anything but fancifully inclined—“how, exactly, do you see me helping you?”
    â€œI never intended, and still do not intend, to bow to my mother’s dictate. I initially searched for every possible alternative other than acceding to her demand. However, there is no way to save the clan other than by handing over the goblet . . . so I looked for a way to make it appear that she was getting what she wanted, without that actually being the case.”
    â€œYou set out to trick her. Good. How?”
    He searched her eyes. His lips fleetingly eased, but then his expression closed again. “The only way I could think of was to capture one of Celia’s daughters and make a deal with her—essentially throwing myself and the clan on her mercy.” He held her gaze. “I was prepared to argue with whatever weapons I had, and in order to set the stage to make such a bargain with one of you, to tip the scales my way as much as possible, I arranged to have one of you kidnapped and brought to me in Scotland—and it had to be a real kidnapping because how else was I to get one of you appropriately alone, away from your family and in my keeping long enough to persuade you to my cause? I could hardly present myself in Dover Street, beg an audience, and make my case. Your family would never have allowed any of you to come north with me alone. And it had to be alone. While Mirabelle might be unhinged over Celia, she is otherwise sane. If she sees any Cynsters or