Page 47 of Much Ado About a Scot

Graham fell silent a moment before continuing. “The story doesn’t end there.” He switched his gaze to Xander. “From an early age, I was tutored at home to take over the estate from my father. I excelled in my studies and at the age of eighteen my father passed all the estate’s money matters over to me. It was then that I noticed a discrepancy from the past ledgers from my grandfather’s time to our current ones. I found the old land agreement and challenged my father. He refused to right the wrong that had been done to your family. So, that day, I pledged to wait until the estate was mine, then I would see to it.”

“But you did no such thing. The estate has been yours for fourteen years.”

Graham grimaced. “I’m sorry, Isobel, that I have wronged you and your father for so long. My good intentions were caught up in Graham family matters once more when I, without much thought to my actions, joined my cousin John Graham, the Earl of Montrose in a scheme to overthrow the king. He and his contemporaries made the risk of treason seem so thrilling. I have never done anything without so little thought in my whole life, much to my regret.”

Xander sat back in his chair. The connection to Montrose, Atholl, and Gowrie made more sense now. He was about to ask Graham a few probing questions when Isobel’s hand closed about his.

“You funneled the percentage that was to go to the Seaton estate to support their cause?” she asked.

Graham shook his head. “I gave the funds directly to Francis Stewart, the Earl of Bothwell, before I knew what kind of man he was.”

“And what kind of man is that?” Isobel straightened as though preparing herself.

“When Rory started asking questions about that section of the land agreement, Bothwell asked Atholl and Gowrie to take care of the problem.” His voice quavered on the last words.

Xander glanced at Isobel. Her face was chalk white. “And Ezra? Was he taken care of as well?”

The color drained from Graham’s face. “I do not know for certain.” He paused as his jaw worked. “But I believe they did.”

Isobel made a choked sound and turned to stare out the window, her lips pressed into a thin, white line. “Why did you act as though you wanted to take my lands from me? You threatened me, and indirectly, Jamie.”

“I was protecting myself. If I took your lands, I wouldn’t have to constantly face you and feel the guilt that tore me up inside.”

Tears sprung to Isobel’s eyes, but Xander could see her fighting them as she drew a shaky breath.

Xander wanted to spare Isobel further distress by stopping this interview, yet he knew she would not thank him if he did. Instead, he squeezed her hand, silently asking permission to continue while she composed herself. She understood and offered a tiny nod. Xander forged on. “Which brings us to the fire.”

Graham flinched. “I had no idea they would go to that extreme.”

“Are you saying Atholl and Gowrie also set the fire?”

Graham looked to Isobel, then away. “I believe they did.”

“Why?” Xander asked.

“They feared yet another one of Isobel’s husbands was getting too close to the truth when you invited the Graham estate to join in on the harvest feast. They needed the percentage of profits from this estate to fund their cause. They were two days away from another attack on the king when you apprehended Bothwell. Instead of overwhelming the king’s forces, which had always failed before, they knew he would be returning to Falkland Palace from Edinburgh in two days’ time. They intended to overwhelm his entourage and take the king hostage. They would hold him prisoner here, at Dunbar Manor, until he abdicated the throne and his cousin, Bothwell, could claim the rule of Scotland for himself. But his sights were bigger than that, as Queen Elizabeth has refused to designate the succession of the crown. If England was not given to him when she died, he would take the throne by force.”

Isobel rallied and stood before Graham, her cheeks tinged pink with anger. “Why did you allow all of this to happen under your own roof? You could have stopped Bothwell or any of them from murdering my husbands, from burning my fields. You might have killed Jamie!”

Graham’s face crumpled and his shoulders shook. Tears rolled down his cheeks. “I would never have forgiven myself if something happened to your son.” It took him a moment to collect himself. When he did, he drew a ragged breath. “As for why I let Bothwell and his cronies, including my cousin, take over my house, I didn’t have a choice. If I’d gone against them, they would have exposed me as a traitor and I didn’t want to die a traitor’s death—hanged, drawn, and quartered. And, if truth be told, I lost myself to grief after my sister died along with Rory. I blamed you for marrying the man whose questions killed them both.” He looked to Isobel then down at his hands. “She was the only family I had.”

Graham shuddered then continued. “But it wasn’t your fault. It was mine. I was so foolish and headstrong in my youth, and I deeply regret my association with those who oppose King James. Which is why I will now do what I should have done all along. I will help you set a trap for the earls. They are to arrive shortly. They will not be happy when they learn about Bothwell’s arrest, and may even try to flee themselves.”

“My men and I will see that such a thing does not happen. We will capture them and take them to Haddington, and along with Bothwell they will pay for their crimes.”

Graham stood and moved to a small desk in the corner of the chamber. He pulled out a drawer and withdrew a sheaf of papers before he returned to stand before Isobel. “Do you recognize these documents?”

“They are the loan papers I signed at the beginning of the year,” she responded with an unspoken question in her voice.

“Aye, they are.” Graham held the papers from the top and ripped them from the top, then again at the middle before setting them in Isobel’s lap. “Your loan is forgiven, and I will happily give you your percentage worth from this year’s harvest to help support you. And my people will help you plant a winter crop.” He dropped to his knees before her and took her smaller hands in his. “Will you let me make this right? I will find a way to repay your estate everything it is owed. I promise.”

Isobel sat there, looking uncertain, saying nothing until she brought her gaze to Xander’s and he saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. It took every bit of strength he had to remain where he was—not to reach out and pull her into his arms. She had wanted to do this. He had to let that happen or she might never be able to move on with her own life.

She swallowed convulsively before she turned her gaze back to Graham. “Forgiving you won’t bring back Rory or Ezra, and it won’t make up for the long hours my father had to toil in the fields to make ends meet. It won’t make up for the suffering that sent my mother into an early grave.”

Graham bowed his head. “I fully accept that I will be judged for all my sins at the end of my life.”

Isobel took her hands from his and reached out to bring his gaze back to hers. “Regardless of everything that you were a part of, and in spite of all that you have done, I forgive you.”