By God's Grace (29 page)
Authors: Felicia Rogers
She hadn't waited long when the distinct thump of Duncan's boots were heard ascending the stairs. The dagger ready in her hands, she anticipated the feel of taking just one more life from this world. Always before, Sori was the one in charge; but this time she was going to right a wrong. She was going to do whatever it took to retrieve her daughter. She waited and waited, but the door never opened. With an ear placed to the wood, voices were heard on the other side. It sounded like the woman who claimed to be his wife was yammering on about something. It also appeared as if the woman was in the process of ruining Lyall's entire plan!
Lyall strained to listen. Duncan's voice became husky right before asking about the babe's location. Fortunately for her, the ignorant woman gave the information clearly and without a moment's hesitation. She even revealed who was in charge of protecting the children. Retrieving the children from those two would be like taking milk from a babe.
The plan was simple. Lyall would walk into Duncan's room and claim she'd been asked to bring the little girl to her parents. They were subservient to her, so she would dare them with a look to question her word.
Peeking through a small crack she made with the door, she looked at the hall to assure herself of its emptiness. When certain no one watched, she slipped toward Duncan's rooms. It appeared luck was on her side. The little boy child appeared discontented, and it was taking Tamara and Bryce both to keep the child occupied. The lass lay on her stomach upon the floor only a few feet from the door.
Quietly Lyall eased the door open and slid into the room, picking up the little girl and cradling her to her chest to keep her silent. She needn't have worried, for the child made nary a sound as she was taken away. With a rush of excitement, Lyall took the babe back to her own room and found a long strip of cloth. She wrapped the child tightly, securing her to her body. Then another strip of cloth was taken and wrapped around her head.
“Are ye comfortable little one?” Lyall cooed.
The child didn't act hungry, but she knew it was only a matter of time. In her mind, she reasoned her milk dried up because Duncan and Arbella had stolen her child for such a long stretch of time. This meant she would need milk for the growing lass. With timid steps, Lyall snuck from her room to the kitchens. Fresh milk was placed in a container and hoisted under her arm. The realization that the burdens would soon become heavy drove her to find a safe place to hide.
With head covered, Lyall walked through the village unnoticed. She was just like any other villager out and about doing their daily chores. As huts were passed, she would peer through the windows to see if they were occupied. House upon house was checked, but she was having no luck in finding shelter.
She glanced down at the child tethered securely to her frame. Lyall's movement and beating heart had lulled the child into a peaceful sleep. She smiled with pleasure while gazing at her daughter's sleeping form. Now she was getting tired herself. She needed to find a place of rest soon. A vague memory of a widow passing right before she left the keep raced across her mind. If recollection served, the widow had held a prime piece of property at the corner of the walled-in village. It would be a great hiding place if it was still empty.
Lyall headed to the hut. By the time she arrived, she was drenched with sweat and breathing heavily with exertion from carrying the child and the jug of milk. She cautiously gazed in the windows and was rewarded for her efforts. The place was empty. With a shove against the rusty door hinges, she let herself into the main room. The hut had a musty odor and dust lingered on all the surfaces, but the structure was intact.
The decision was instantly made. This would be her new home. Placing the sleeping babe on the bed, she went about opening windows. Next she dusted, collected firewood, and beat carpets and blankets. When the sun began to set, she settled down by the fireplace light and rocked her daughter while giving her some milk. Finally she was at peace.
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Duncan and Arbella stumbled into the keep from the stables, barely able to stand after their time spent together. Tamara was at the door with her back turned, arms empty. Bryce was behind her holding a fussy Andrew, and Grant stood in front of them both with a deep frown etching his brow. When they heard Duncan and Arbella's laughter, they turned collectively to face the happy couple.
As soon as Arbella spotted Tamara's red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained face, she knew something was wrong. Duncan's hand was dropped as she ran to Tamara side. “What is it?”
Tamara was so distraught all she could do was drop her head in her hands like it weighed too much to hold. Arbella looked at Bryce and Grant, demanding, “What is going on?”
No one would speak. She turned to her husband. “Duncan, order them to tell me what is going on.”
“She took her, didn't she?” Duncan's anguished voice asked.
Tamara wailed louder. Andrew fussed more. Bryce bounced the lad harder to try and soothe him. Finally Grant confirmed their worst fears. “It appears to be so. They are both missing.”
Arbella pulled at Duncan's arm and peered up at him, longing to understand what was happening. He avoided her gaze as he spoke, “Lyall took Glenna Rose.”
Arbella frowned. “Took her? But where?”
Duncan put his hands on her arms to steady her. “Arbella, Lyall took Glenna away. We don't know where.”
Arbella collapsed. When she awoke sometime later, she found she had been laid out on a soft seat in the main room. A flurry of activity surrounded her. She lay there for a moment, remembering what had caused her to swoon. Tears flooded her eyes as the nightmare transformed to reality. Body dropping to the side of her seat, she poured her heart out to her Lord, praying for her daughter's safe return.
****
Duncan hadn't needed anyone to tell him anything. He remembered Grant's letter about Lyall wailing for a lost child, and in his mind he put that together with his daughter's absence, and he knew what had happened.
When he saw his wife on her knees, a part of him wished to join her there, but another part of him nagged that he didn't deserve comfort. The only reason his daughter was missing was because he chose to spend private time with his wife and not protect his child. Besides, he didn't have time to pray, right? He was in the middle of trying to organize a search.
Duncan faced the men who gathered. The room was crowded with people. From wall to wall, the room was filled. Every man and woman in the keep must have come to help. As he addressed the crowd, his voice trembled, “As ye all know, Lyall arrived home today. After her arrival, she proceeded to sneak and take Glenna Rose.”
The women in attendance gasped in horror. They noticed Arbella on her knees, and they went to her, lifting her up and offering words of love and a promise to help in any way possible. Duncan watched the women of his clan come to Arbella's aid as he continued, “We believe Lyall has hidden somewhere in the village. She is in a state of mental duress. It is not known why or how, but we believe she thinks Glenna is her own daughter.” At this statement, whisperings and murmurings could be heard. Duncan raised a hand for silence and continued, “Because of this, she is sure to go to any means necessary to protect the lass. Lyall must be approached with extreme caution. Otherwise she may harm⦔ he choked on the last word, “â¦Glenna.”
Duncan could say no more, and Grant took his place. “Each of ye will be divided into groups and take a section of the village. If ye discover Lyall, ye are to retrieve Duncan or myself. Ye are not to engage Lyall by any means. Do ye understand?”
All the heads in the room nodded. Tamara handed a hungry Andrew to his mother, and Arbella began to feed him, gathering comfort from his tiny warm body. Duncan couldn't look at them. They meant more to him than life. If something happened to Glenna Rose, he didn't know if he could live with himself.
Grant separated the villagers into inconspicuous groups and released them on the village. Duncan joined one of the groups and walked out the door, leaving Arbella behind with Tamara and their son.
****
Lyall was in her own little pit of misery. At first the little babe had taken the milk she offered just fine, but then she began to fuss and wail. Arms flung and plump legs pumped fiercely in agitation. Lyall spread a cover on the dirt floor and laid the babe upon it, but the child wailed all the more. She had no idea what was wrong. Holding the babe, she bounced her around. Finally a loud burp emitted from the tiny mouth. Lyall was hopeful all was well, but then the child burped again, and Lyall was sprayed from neck to waist with sour-smelling liquid. She almost flung the babe at the fireplace, but she restrained herself. With a deep breath, she placed the babe back on the coverlet and went outside the hut. The waning daylight would be used to investigate the damage to her favorite dress.
****
Little did Lyall know a mob of people was converging on her from all directions. Arbella caught up with Duncan as he stepped in front of the last hut on the row. The home was buried in the corner, and in the front yard stood a distracted Lyall. She was ranting and raving about the babe having the nerve to spit and saying words about how next time the child would be punished.
She had retrieved a bucket filled with putrid water that sat in the yard, probably since the old widow had expired. A piece of her skirt had been ripped and hung dripping wet. She dabbed away spittle from the front of her dress. When she had cleaned as much as she could, she looked up and spotted a dumbfounded Duncan and Arbella staring at her. Surely the woman knew she couldn't make it back inside before they stopped her.
“Well, fancy meeting ye two here. I just moved in, and I wasn't exactly prepared for visitors.”
Duncan couldn't speak. Inside the hut directly in front of him was his daughter.
S
he better be in one piece
or Lyall
won't
live to see tomorrow.
As he stared at the building, Lyall looked back and forth between them.
“How does it feel?” she asked.
Neither one of them answered. Lyall screamed, “How does it feel, I said! Ye took my daughter, so I took yours.”
Duncan watched the face lined with a smirk. “Lyall, I didna even know ye had a daughter, so how could I take her?”
Lyall's laugh chilled Duncan to the bone. “Ye took her just as ye and yer kind took everything else from me. First ye took my mother, then my father left me alone to wallow in his own self pity. But that was all right because Sori came to be with me.” Duncan gave her an incredulous look, and she started to speak again, “Don't look at me as if ye never met Sori. She is my best friend, my only friend. She lives inside of me, and I in her. She helped with poisoning my step-mother and Cainneach. I told her he would eventually just give up on life and kill himself, but she couldn't wait. Ye weren't supposed to return to take charge, ye know. But when ye did, Sori's plan was to marry ye so I could rule the keep, but ye would have nothing to do with me. Then there was the minstrel, who fell dead at yer feet in the main hall. That was the man I truly loved. We were to be married, but my father⦔ she paused, hatred dripping from her tongue as she turned her head and spit the taste of his name on the ground, “â¦wouldn't allow it. He forced me to marry Cainneach. I guess Grant told ye my father had no intention of naming me heir and allowing the Sinclairs to claim the Burns's lands.”
Duncan could feel Arbella squeezing his hand. They both had seen Grant and Bryce trying to sneak into the back of the hut. They had to keep Lyall talking. “Why did ye kill the one ye loved?”
Lyall appeared shocked by his ignorance. “Isn't it obvious? He was tryin' to tell ye what I'd done to Cainneach!”
“'Wis' was for the wisteria flower, yer favorite fragrance,” said Duncan recognition lighting his face.
Lyall clapped. “Verra good. Wisteria won't kill ye in small doses, but it does make ye verra sick. But give it to someone with no will to live, then add a little belladonna, and ye got one dead relative â or three or four.”
“Was Cainneach the father?”
“Arbella, does he listen to ye like this? I told ye the truth. I never allowed Cainneach to touch me. Yer minstrel was the father.”
Duncan realized too late his line of questioning might have drawn her attention to the babe. Then Arbella shouted, “Duncan, look!”
The roof was afire. Flames shooting from the chimney were falling down on the roof. The built-up creosote oak caused the flames to shoot extra high. As one of the sparks fell on the straw, the roof ignited. Arbella's foot stepped forward, intent on rushing into the burning hut.
Glenna Rose's hearty wail echoed through the open windows. Lyall used this distraction as her chance to get away and shot inside.
“Lyall!” yelled Duncan and Arbella at the same time. The name died from their lips as the hut's ceiling collapsed. From inside came wails of anguish and agony. The roof collapse had trapped its inhabitants inside the burning structure.
Arbella buried her head in Duncan's chest. He rested his head upon her hair. He would never forgive himself for the death of their child. Duncan and Arbella lifted their head in unison when they continued to hear a discontented wail. Grant and Bryce moved around from behind a nearby building, Grant cradling Glenna Rose in their arms.
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After Duncan and Arbella took Glenna back to the keep, a downpour descended. The fire in the hut was doused; left in its place was nothing but a smoldering pile of ash and rubble. The rain was relentless as if performing a cleansing ritual on the land. When the rain ended, a rainbow was seen arching over the blue sky.