Blood of His Fathers (Sinners and Saints) Read online

  She caught Jason’s gaze across the chandelier-lit distance. He leaned with nonchalant ease against the wood paneled wall. Her fingers nervously fondled the dark gray pearls at her throat. It hadn’t escaped her that he’d matched the color of his Armani suit to the necklace she wore.

  “When were you going to tell me about you and Tom?” she asked.

  “There is no me and Tom.”

  He was irritatingly calm and in control of his emotions as if he’d expected her to lose control of her own. She was glad of the distance between them right now. She wanted nothing more than to throw something at his handsome face, although she couldn’t help but wonder if her reaction was some legitimate response to Tom’s accusations or purely to Jason who, despite her resolve, continued to make her weak in the knees.

  “It’s just too much of a coincidence my ex-husband knows you. I guess I wasn’t supposed to find out about that, either. You played me for a fool, giving me enough information to make me question my mother, Sean, myself. You even used my son against me. Manipulated me with half-truths to substantiate your lies.”

  “And you deduced all that from your ex-husband’s drunken rant. What if he’s the one who’s lying, Jessica?”

  “I saw the look that had passed between you both. Tom may have been drunk, but he was warning me. Why would he do that if he didn’t know you?”

  “All I heard…all anyone heard today was the angry outburst of a jealous ex-husband.”

  “The things Tom said had nothing to do with jealousy. He was warning me about you. About your father.”

  “And what if he was? He didn’t tell you anything I hadn’t already told you.”

  “Yes—but how would he have known that?”

  Jason pushed himself upright. “Not everything is as it seems, Jessica.”

  “Of course not,” she bit back. “That would’ve been too simple, wouldn’t it?”

  He crossed the room, moving with slow, feral grace toward her. “Jessica—”

  “I know. Trust you. But how can I do that when you’ve lied to me—are lying to me?” she corrected.

  She backed away from him, blinking back the tears springing in her eyes.

  “I’ve been a fool. A gullible, blind fool,” she said before turning and fleeing the room.

  * * * *

  It surprised Jason that he’d meant every uttered word of his marriage vows, although he doubted the same could be said of Jessica. He knew why she’d agreed to his proposal. She needed answers probably more than he did and she planned to use him to get them.

  He poured himself a whiskey and then plopped down onto the old sofa in his study. This was not how he envisioned spending his wedding night, but he and Jessica were strangers each playing a role for the entire world to see. It was a role that, as she had demanded, ended decisively at the bedroom door. Jessica was angry and confused, but he wasn’t about to give up or let Tom’s unexpected outburst ruin his chances with her.

  He stared out the open French doors at the craggy hillside and watched the last glimmer of evening light as it fell upon the winter landscape. His mother had loved it here and for some strange primal male reason he wanted Jessica to love Madeley too. He leaned his head back against the comfortable leather and closed his eyes.

  He could still feel her in his arms as they waltzed through the Blue Ballroom, her hips seductively brushing his thighs. Her delicate scent had made him almost dizzy with desire, and then she’d looked at him. In that one moment there’d been no more pretending. He was falling deeply in love with his wife and if he ever hoped to win her trust and ensure her co-operation he would have to tell her the truth—the terrible truth about the Thomases and the McCormacks. But could he? Could he justifiably explain away the lie that’d been her life?

  “Congratulations.” The sarcastic tone cut through his thoughts.

  Jason jumped to his feet. He rounded on the person who’d dared invade his private moment and recognized him at once.

  “I thought you would be in the Seychelles or somewhere enjoying your hard-earned money,” Jason charged dryly.

  Tom shrugged offhandedly. “I can’t. Not without seeing Jess.”

  Jason took a casual nip of his whiskey. “No.”

  “I was married to her for seven years, Jason. We have a son. I’m entitled—”

  “To nothing,” Jason retorted. “You forget, Tom, Jessica divorced you without knowing all the facts. Her decision. Her life is here with me now and I won’t have you destroy that.”

  “You won’t—” Tom sneered loudly in his disbelief. He punched a fist against the palm of his hand. “You hypocrite,” he returned with equal venom. “You’re using Jess to get to your father and you’re going to get her killed in the process. Leave her out of this. She knows nothing.”

  “You made sure of that, didn’t you? If anyone is a hypocrite here, Tom, it’s you. If you cared for Jessica half as much as my father’s money you would’ve told her your marriage was nothing more than an elaborate manipulation. A baseless lie.”

  Tom rubbed a resigned hand across the back of his neck. “I do care. That’s why I need to see her, Jason. I have to explain. I have to tell her about Sean. Everything.”

  “Jessica knows her brother’s dead.”

  “How did she find out?”

  “I told her. She knows as much as I can tell her right now.”

  “She knows about your father…about me?”

  “She knows nothing about you, Tom. I wanted to spare her that little detail.”

  “You obviously spared her a lot more than that, Jason. Otherwise she wouldn’t have married you. She couldn’t have. Where is she?”

  “I won’t let anything happen to her.”

  Tom barked out a hard laugh. “You’re telling me you’d choose Jess above your father.”

  “I already have.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Tom sneered. “Blood will always be thicker than water, Jason.”

  “I’m not my father.”

  “You’re a McCormack and that’s enough.”

  “I think we’ve said all we need to say to each other, Tom, but remember this. Jessica is no longer your wife and therefore no longer your concern. If I were you I would leave Scotland tonight.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  Jason pulled his lips into an impassive smile and narrowed his gaze. “Consider it a friendly warning.”

  “Jess deserves to know what kind of family she married into,” Tom retorted stubbornly. “She deserves to know everything.” He relented with a wistful sigh. “Jess never belonged to me and she doesn’t belong to you, Jason. She doesn’t love and she’ll let no one love her. I know because I’ve tried. But I do love her and I don’t want to see her hurt. Let her go before it’s too late.”

  Tom turned and strode out the door.

  Jason downed the rest of his drink and stared pensively after him. Tom was right, of course, but he couldn’t let Jessica go now. His heart just wouldn’t allow it.

  * * * *

  Jess popped out of the icy shadows as Tom made his way across the forecourt to his car. She called his name as loudly as she dared.

  “Tom! Tom!”

  He stopped and spun about, peering into the night. He took a hesitant step forward in her direction.

  “Jess?” he blurted. “What are you doing here?”

  He quickly took off his jacket and wrapped it about her bare shoulders.

  “I saw you go into the house—” she began. She rubbed her arms.

  Tom touched her cheek. “You’ve been crying. If Jason’s done anything to hurt you I’ll—”

  “It’s nothing, Tom,” Jess interjected. “I’m all right. It’s just been a long day and with you—”

  “I know. I’m sorry about that, Jess. My behavior was inexcusable, but I was too late anyway, wasn’t I?”

  He smiled at her and then, reaching for her left hand, lowered his gaze to the elegant ring gracing her finger. Regret tinged his voice.


  “You married him.”

  Jess placed a placating hand on his arm. “What’s going on, Tom? Why did I make a mistake marrying Jason? Please, tell me. Have I put Jake in danger? I have to know.”

  “We can’t talk now,” Tom said. He looked anxiously about him. “Jason undoubtedly is waiting to hear me leave. Meet me tomorrow night in Braemar. There’s a local bar, Marmaduke’s. Come around eleven. It’ll be quiet.”

  Jess nodded. She didn’t know where it was, but she would find it.

  “I’ll be there. I promise.”

  She tightened her grip on his arm as Tom turned to walk away.

  “How do you know Jason?”

  “Tomorrow, Jess,” he said.

  He placed a light kiss on her cheek. “Go inside, and kiss Jake for me.”

  He darted across the forecourt, his form disappearing into the shadows, the sound of his footsteps fading in the snow.

  Jess spun toward the house and froze. Jason stood at the living room window gazing out at her. His face still and his eyes inscrutable in the blazing glow of firelight. She entered the house and practically ran passed the room toward the sweeping stairs. Jason called her name, halting her flight. She retraced her steps to the room door, but didn’t cross the threshold.

  Jason kept his gaze glued out the window. He didn’t turn around.

  “What did he want?”

  “Tom just wanted to apologize for ruining our moment in the chapel. I told him not to worry. He didn’t spoil a thing.”

  Jason turned his gaze on her. Amber eyes clashed furiously with brown, but she didn’t wait to be chastised. With her head held high, she stalked off, knowing she’d not find the comfort she sought tonight in her large, empty bed.

  * * * *

  The next morning she descended the back stairs at the west end of the house after spending a sleepless wedding night alone in her room. She wavered on the final tread and gazed down at her wedding ring.

  “Way to go, Jess,” she muttered.

  She ambled through the west passage to the Great Hall and heard Jake’s laughter. She crossed into the breakfast room and entered the high-ceilinged, flagged stone kitchen. She gazed out the large splayed window onto the vast snowy landscape and watched the amusing scene.

  Jake was playing in the snow with Jason’s two dogs. His grandmother stood to one side, her hands buried deep in the pockets of her coat, supervising boy and dogs.

  Her mother spied her and smiled. Jess mouthed “coffee”, to which her mother vigorously nodded. Jake must’ve been up bright and early. She reached into the corner cupboard and retrieved the coffee jar.

  “We need to talk about what happened yesterday with Tom.”

  Jess turned quickly, dropping the pot onto the kitchen floor. She flicked a glance at Jason’s grave countenance before stooping to collect the pieces of broken glass.

  “I’m sorry I startled you.”

  “You didn’t,” she murmured. “Just clumsy, that’s all.”

  She stood, taking the pieces of glass to the bin, and moved toward the cupboard where Hilda kept her cleaning utensils. She pulled out the long handled dustpan and brush.

  “I know a lot has happened in the last week and you don’t know who or what to believe right now. But despite what Tom wants you to think, I would never hurt you or Jake.”

  She raised her eyes to his. “How could you possibly know each other?”

  Jason moved toward her. “I’ll answer your questions, Jessica, if you agree to do one thing for me.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “Spend today with me.”

  She turned her attention back to the spilled coffee grounds.

  “Why would I want to do that?”

  The brush stilled as Jason reached out and clasped it firmly between his fingers, compelling her gaze back to his.

  “The last thing I want to do is to hurt you, Jessica—”

  “Then leave me alone. Please,” she whispered.

  He frowned slightly and reached his free hand to her face. Her fingers tightened about the brush handle and her knees trembled. She forced herself to hold his gaze as his hand ghosted down her cheek and his thumb traced her bottom lip.

  “My father has caused you pain and I’m a constant reminder of it. Even Tom has cast more doubt on me, but I need you to set aside your prejudice for one day—”

  “That would mean forgetting my father, forgetting Sean—”

  “That would mean seeing me, Jessica. Not the son of a man who did those things.”

  “What would that accomplish? I’m not prejudiced. I just won’t betray Sean or my father like that. This was never meant to be about us—”

  “So you’ll deny the attraction between us simply because you think you’re being disloyal to your father’s memory and Sean’s.”

  “It’s not “simply” anything, but I don’t expect you to understand.”

  She let go of the brush and, turning on her heel, stalked to the window.

  “I’m going against my father for you,” he said.

  “And you want me to show my gratitude by sleeping with you?” she asked without facing him.

  “No! You’re attracted to me as much as I am to you, Jessica.”

  “I divorced Tom because I…it doesn’t mean I want you.”

  She turned around leveling her eyes on his. “This house is large enough for us to never have to see each other. You can come and go as you please with anyone you choose. All I ask, in regard to Jake, is a little discretion.”

  “Oh, so I can fuck anyone and everyone else except the one woman I desire. Is that it?”

  She flinched at the venom in his voice.

  “You make it sound as if I want to be here. Yesterday, we both uttered vows that neither of us believed in because we married for all the wrong reasons. Your father forced this situation on us. Neither one of us has the right to demand fidelity of the other.”

  She swung back toward the window, swiping at the sudden tears falling down her cheeks. She wanted this over before she lost her heart completely.

  “Perhaps at a certain moment the line between us became blurred. It’s not any more.”

  She jumped as the kitchen door thundered shut.

  * * * *

  She’d tiptoed around Jake’s constant questions about baby brothers and fielded her mother’s over plans for a honeymoon. By the end of the evening, when Jason returned, her nerves had been pulled taut. They’d maintained a strained politeness all through dinner, and her ensuing migraine had proved to be a blessing in disguise. She’d managed to sneak out of the house while everyone thought she was resting in her room.

  Jess cast another nervous glance at her watch. It was already a quarter past eleven. She was late. She hated making Tom wait, but it took an age to get Jake into bed—he was still much too wired about the previous days events.

  Jess turned her car onto the main street running through the village and was filled with an immediate sense of foreboding. Police cars and an ambulance blocked the narrow street, their flashing blue lights a vivid contrast against the hazy night.

  She parked her car and headed toward the small crowd that had gathered behind the police tape. Men and women in white surgical suits milled about the cordoned area. Policemen in uniform patrolled at strategic points, holding back onlookers intent on disregarding the stipulated boundaries.

  Jess turned to a woman standing next to her.

  “What’s happened?” she asked.

  “There has been a shooting at Marmaduke’s,” the woman said. “I’ve lived in Braemar all my life. Things like this don’t happen here.”

  Jess scanned the faces about her, and then looked at her watch. Almost eleven thirty. Tom must be somewhere. She punched in his number on her mobile and heard the familiar ring tone, faint and distant. She listened hard, her gaze sweeping over the crowd once more. His telephone was ringing.

  The sound dragged her eyes to the gurney being wheeled to the back of
the ambulance. She watched its slow progress and then lowered her gaze to the black body bag lying heavy and lifeless upon it. The murmuring voices around her dimmed to a shocked quiet. The ring tone grew louder. Her eyes focused and she frowned. Awareness flooded her and she suddenly understood the look of incomprehension passing between the two paramedics standing on either side of the stretcher.

  Jess ducked under the police tape without thought of the consequences. She walked and then half-ran toward the stretcher not wanting to believe and yet knowing who she would find lying there. She brushed off the vain attempts of a police constable as he tried to halt her progress across the cordoned off space. In a matter of seconds she’d reached the gurney and pushed passed a surprised attendant. She unzipped the body bag.

  Tom’s ashen face struck her brain like a freight train. Her eyes dropped to the dark stain on his chest and her throat tightened. Her rising scream turned into a silent gasp on her lips. She staggered backward and was instantly caught by a pair of determined arms.

  The grip about her tightened and she offered no resistance as she was maneuvered gently but firmly inside Marmaduke’s and eased into a worn out wooden chair.

  “She looks like she could do with a drink.”

  Jess barely registered the voice or the man behind the bar as she tried to focus on the one man sitting opposite her.

  Tom’s dead.

  The bartender had moved toward their table and placed a shot glass in front of her.

  “You’ll feel better after you get this down you,” he said, and turned to leave.

  Jess hesitated, but then raised the glass to her lips and drained the contents. Ugh…She hated whiskey. The burning warmth trickled down her throat, thawing her insides.

  “Feel better?”

  Her head bobbed in automatic response, although her throat felt as if it was on fire. She lifted her gaze to the man who’d questioned her.