“My maiden name. I was born Madelyn Elizabeth Marjorie Coulton. But I was afraid to use it in Brae or the clinic. Because, you see, he’d gone back to sea and not long afterward was killed.” She stopped, let her voice steady once more. “He died and I had a baby on the way. I stayed in Brae as long as I dared, hiding the pregnancy as best I could. Then I took a hotel room in Glasgow for a time before going to the clinic. There was nowhere else that I dared to have the child. If Alex had died, of course, I’d have claimed that Ian was his. But Alex was alive and I couldn’t risk brazening it out. If I hadn’t met Fiona—if she hadn’t been willing to take the child as her own—I would have killed us both. The boy and myself.”

Chapter 28

28

RUTLEDGE LEFT MRS. HOLDEN WITH SOME APPREHENSION—concerned for her—afraid that when Alexander Holden walked back into his house, his suspicions would be aroused by something in her face. It wouldn’t take him long to discover that Rutledge had been there. He was too intelligent not to know why. Mrs. Holden was very fragile. What would he do? Bully her—or find a new, unexpected strength in her?

“Whatever he does,” Hamish said, “it’s no’ possible to stop him. You canna’ go to Oliver until you hear what London’s learned about Holden! You canna’ go to the fiscal without proof. This is Holden’s ground, he’ll ken what to do—”

“There may be a way to distract him.” Rutledge had nearly reached his motorcar, concealed well out of sight of the Holden property. He pulled it to the head of the drive, where Holden couldn’t pass him.

Then he waited. With infinite patience. Even Hamish stood the long watch in silence. They had shared such watches many times in the trenches—there was almost that same comfortable sense of companionship. Almost—but not quite.

It was nearly dusk when Holden came. The long shadows of the autumn day had given way to clouds, and the first sprinkles of rain.

The lights of Holden’s car picked out the dark shape of his own, and slowed.

Holden called sharply, “What’s happened?”

Rutledge replied, “I’ve come to speak to you. Your maid told me you were out, and I waited.”

“For God’s sake, why didn’t you wait at the house?”

“Because I didn’t want your wife or your servants to hear what I’ve got to say.” He gestured around them at the dark road and the dark drive. “We have a little privacy here.” The sprinkles turned to the first heavy drops.

Holden looked for hidden ears before turning back. “Then say what you have to, and let us both get in out of this rain!”