“I took Mr. Callanach at his word,” Mr. Shedwell said, his voice dripping with annoyance.
“Mr. MacNeil,” Judge MacNally said, directing his gaze on Blayne, “Can ye prove who ye are?”
Blayne nodded. “Aye.” He reached inside his jacket pocket and retrieved the gift he’d intended to give Charlotte after their wedding. For the first time in several days, he was glad he still wore the same set of clothes. “Here ye go.”
Judge MacNally accepted the piece of paper Blayne gave him and studied it for a moment before holding it up and saying, “This is a deed to The Black Swan tavern, transferring half the ownership of said tavern from Mr. Blayne MacNeil to his wife, Mrs. Charlotte MacNeil, upon the day of their marriage.”
Blayne watched as Charlotte’s eyes began to glisten.
“Now, with this added piece of evidence taken into account,” Judge MacNally said, “I really dinnae see how this man can be anyone other than who he claims to be. Case dismissed.”
“Ye’ll nae get away with this,” Seamus shouted. “I’ll nae let my brother’s killer go unpunished!”
“Bailiffs,” Judge MacNally said, “please have Mr. Callanach escorted out before he makes a bigger mockery of this court. Mr. MacNeil, ye’re free to go.”
Blayne could scarcely credit his good fortune. Charlotte had done it. By some miracle, she’d managed to get him released. Without hesitation, he went to her and pulled her fiercely into his arms.
“Thank God this is over,” she whispered while he wound his arms around her in a tight embrace. “These past few days have been the worst of my life.”
“I cannae disagree with ye there, lass.” He kissed the top of her head before easing away and adding a bit more respectable distance. His gaze shifted to Marcus who stood by her side. “Thank ye both for yer efforts. I’m truly grateful.”
“It was mostly Miss Russell’s doing,” Marcus said. Blayne nodded.
“I can’t believe you planned to give me half of your business,” Charlotte said while gazing at him with wondrous eyes.
He smiled at her. “I’ve little else left to offer, and I wanted to give ye something.”
“You know you’re all I need. Right?”
“I do.” A thought struck. “How will my mother fit into all of this?”
“She’s not your mother,” Charlotte murmured. “She can’t be. But she can be a woman on whom I have taken pity after hearing her story. I would suggest we invite her to return to England with us. If you agree and she wishes to come.”
“Aye,” Blayne said. “I think that’s a grand idea.”
“Shall we go see her then?”
Blayne could scarcely wait. He and his mother had not been especially close, but he’d still loved her. The thought of seeing her again after all this time instilled in him a mixture of nervousness and excitement. She’d been severely wounded when they’d last parted and even though he’d not realized as much at the time, he’d still left her with two dead men and an unkind brother-in-law. Blayne hoped she’d forgive him.
Taking Charlotte’s arm, Blayne escorted her through the front door of the High Court of Justiciary and out onto the pavement beyond. The sun shone from a clear blue sky, bathing him in its warmth. Intent on telling Charlotte he loved her, he turned toward her as gunfire shattered the calm.
Screams engulfed the air.
“Get her back inside, Marcus.” Blayne pushed Charlotte behind him and scanned the street. People were running, seeking shelter. Blayne stayed where he was until he spotted a rough looking fellow on the opposite corner.
The shooter turned and started hurrying away, so Blayne gave chase. It was one thing to try and kill him, but to make the attempt while he was with Charlotte was not to be borne. Not to mention there were other people about, any one of whom could have gotten between Blayne and the lead ball no doubt meant for his chest.
Charging forward, Blayne barreled straight into the would-be assassin’s back and felled him. The man cried out in pain as he hit the ground.
“Who ordered ye to murder me?” Blayne asked even though he already knew the answer. Only one person was mad enough to go this far. Seamus wanted vengeance on behalf of his brother. He’d not accept letting Blayne walk away. Considering the threat he’d made when the case had been dismissed, Blayne should have realized as much, but he’d been too overcome by relief to notice the danger Seamus still posed.
“I dinnae ken what ye’re on about.”
Blayne slammed his fist into the man’s face. Cartilage crunched beneath his knuckles. Blood spurted from the man’s nose. He cried out in pain. “Give me a name.”
“I cannae.”
“Ye’ll do so soon enough, I wager.” Blayne disarmed the fellow, then hauled him to his feet by his jacket collar and marched him back to the courthouse. Two constables who’d come to see what was going on met him when he arrived. “This gunman just tried to kill me. I suggest ye charge him and figure out who he’s working for.”
“We’ll get it done right away,” one of the constables said as Blayne handed the man over to their care.
“And see to it that the man behind this attack gets what he deserves.”
The constables nodded and marched the gunman away.
Blayne took a deep breath. His hands were shaking, not so much on account of the danger he himself had faced, but rather because he’d feared for Charlotte’s life in a way that had nearly crippled him. Lord have mercy, it was hard to love someone so fiercely.
Forcing himself to be calm for her sake, he followed the constables back inside the building only to learn that the fear he’d experienced seconds earlier was nothing compared with the gut-wrenching panic that ripped through his body when he saw blood pooling at the front of Charlotte’s spencer.
“I believe I was shot,” she said, her voice weak as he hurried toward the bench where she sat. Marcus held her in a propped position while a constable kneeled on the floor nearby with medical supplies he apparently had no clue what to do with.
“Jesus.”
“I don’t think it’s as bad as it seems,” Charlotte said while Blayne did his best not to fall apart. He had to remain cool-headed. He could not allow himself to panic.
“Where’s the nearest hospital?” he asked.
“A mile or so away,” the constable said.
“Well then, let’s go.”
“I really don’t think there’s a need for that,” Charlotte countered. “I’m sure it’s just a scratch. In fact, I barely feel it at all.”
She would once the surgeon began extracting the lead ball. “Hand me the compress ye’ve got there.”
The constable placed a thick cotton wad in Blayne’s hand. Blayne placed it firmly over the spot on Charlotte’s shoulder and pressed down hard.
“Ow!”
Ignoring her discomfort, Blayne swept her up in his arms. “Would someone please get a carriage ready.”
“I’m on it,” Marcus assured him.
“And make sure that damn gunman tells ye who was behind this,” Blayne yelled. “I want his head on a bloody pike!”