Claimed By A Charmer (The Pith Trilogy) (26 page)

Douglas made it to the hall and
told his mother what happened. He noticed Isabel come from upstairs and she
approached.

“Douglas told me what happened. Is
she well, Isabel?”

Isabel nodded to his mother. “I
bathed her and put her to bed. Perhaps you should sit with her, there’s no
telling what she might do. Douglas said she jumped into the loch.”

“Aye, she’s distraught.” Shelagh
didn’t waste a moment, but picked up her skirts, and ran up the stairs.

“I’ll stay with Candace during the
night so your mother can get some rest.”

Douglas agreed by nodding. He took
her hand and pulled her to the table, sitting her in his lap. Content to hold
her, he couldn’t bring himself to look at the pain in her eyes.

“Candace’s heart is broken,
Douglas. When are you leaving?”

He looked at her in surprise. “At
first light.”

“You will be careful, won’t you? I
can’t help but worry. Are you going after Nigel?”

“Nay, Irving Dunmore. Have you seen
Rachel yet?”

“I don’t want to see her.” She rose
from her seat to vacate the room, before he plied her with his thoughts on that
lady. He grabbed her arm and held her close.

“See what she has to say. Mayhap
she was used, Isabel, and doesn’t deserve our condemnation.”

“I’ll think on it, Douglas. I’m
spending the night with Candace. So this is goodbye.” She yanked her hand free,
and fled the room.

Goodbye? Douglas sat back down and
chugged the remaining ale in his cup. His wife was driving him mad. He knew he
would have to eventually give in and rescue the girls. It was his only
salvation. He wanted to demand that she return to the loving woman she was. She’d
changed from a sweet, demanding lass, to an onerous one. He didn’t like it at
all. He leaned his head back against his chair, closing his eyes. He was tired,
tired of the strife with Irving, tired of his sister’s crying, and mostly,
tired of his wife’s shrewish conduct of late.

“Douglas?” his mother’s voice
intruded on his thoughts. “Isabel is sitting with Candace. She seems better
now. I’m worried for her.”

“I am leaving on the morrow to
bring Wills back. She’ll be all right. I’m going to Irving Dunmore.”

“Why are you going to the Dunmore’s?”

“I found out that he has Wills
under a witch’s spell. He’s been plotting all along to kill me. It’s time to
end it.”

“End what?”

“The feud. My father told me not to
continue the feud, but I didn’t listen, and now, it has led to Irving’s
mistreatment of Wills. Candace will never forgive me.”

“I heard of a riff between the two
clans, but I didn’t know it was an all out war.”

He glanced at her then looked to
his cup. “My father started a feud with Robert Dunmore because he snatched my
mother away on the day they wed. When she returned, she was with child.” He
didn’t know if he could continue. He hadn’t spoken of this to anyone, except
his father. Shelagh paced along the length of the table.

“I’m sorry about your mother,
Douglas. What happened after she returned? Thomas never spoke of this. I didn’t
feel it was my right to ask, so I never pestered him about her. I thought he
was brokenhearted. That’s why he was so distant toward everyone then.”

“He was concerned for her after she
returned. He loved her, and it didn’t matter to him that I wasn’t his son, but
my mother loved Robert. She threw herself off Kilbrun Ridge rather than be wed
to him.”

Shelagh sighed despondently.

He continued. “I never told Irving,
and I have hated the Dunmores for what they did to her. How can I let that go? I
vowed to avenge my mother’s death, and Thomas’ anguish.”

“Douglas,” Shelagh whispered,
pulling his face to get him to look at her. “He is your brother?” Douglas
nodded. “You must make peace with him.”

“I don’t know how to do that,
Mother. I only want to kill him, and all the Dunmores.”

“You mustn’t. Explain it to him,
just as you have to me. He’ll have to understand. You must stop this feuding at
once. Your father wouldn’t be happy about this, and he wouldn’t want you to
continue it.”

Douglas’ misery felt so heavy in
his chest, but he agreed the feud must end.

Isabel spent a restless night in
Candace’s chamber. She entered the hall and placed a smile on her face when she
saw Lady Kerr.

“I’m glad you’ve returned unharmed,
Isabel. Douglas tells me that you wanted to rescue the lassies at the asylum
and that you’re angry with him.”

She set down her goblet. “He
wouldn’t take them with us. I wasn’t able to help them, and I feel guilt. How
could we just ride away without a care?”

“Do you deem that’s what ye did?”

“Aye. I left my good friend, Romy,
behind with her babe. Her fate is to be subjected to the ill humors of that horrid
friar. He is supposed to give them refuge for the church, and yet, he offers
them to men for their cursed use. Nate told me so.”

“Does the church know about his
deeds?”

“Even if it did, would it matter? The
church is not likely to care about young girls who are forced to submit to
their betters.”

“Oh, you should talk to Douglas
about your feelings, and mayhap he will go back to save those girls. You are
going about it the wrong way. He wanted to get you away from that evil place.”

“It doesn’t matter now. I’m going
to my room and rest.”

“Wait, Douglas put Rachel in your
room. I’ll have her moved, she’s well enough now.”

Isabel stared at her. He put her in
their room? And why had they let her return? She was a serpent, who should be …
What the devil was she doing here? Isabel wouldn’t let that woman stay.

“I don’t want her here, have him
take her home. And I’ll not share a room with him either. Tell him he can share
it with her.”

“Isabel, you’re being
unreasonable.”

“Unreasonable, pish, that lady
handed me over to my brother. How could you let her return?” Isabel walked away
angrily. She went to the back of the keep and kept walking until she was alone.
Feeling dejected and hurt, she sat on a wall along back on the keep. Tears
glistened in her eyes, but she wouldn’t let them fall. How had she thought he
was a gentleman and a charmer? Somehow she would figure a way to go back and
save her friend and the other girls.

There wasn’t a moment’s rest as
Isabel set about her day, and worse, she didn’t feel well. A twinge kept
reminding her of the stomach upset she had earlier. Shelagh kept her busy with
household chores. Isabel stood on the steps, getting air, and after wiping her
hands on her apron, she went back inside the hall. She had three loaves of
bread to prepare, and went to the kitchens. Then she went up stairs to see if
Candace felt better. The room was dark; she hadn’t gotten out of bed yet.

“Candace, come, you’ll feel better
if you rise.” Isabel pulled Candace’s plaid off, but still she didn’t move. Isabel
knew how to get her from the bed, she picked up the pitcher which was halfway
full, enough to get her moving. She dumped the contents over her head.

Candace shrieked. “What are you
doing?”

“Now, you’ll get out of that bed.” Isabel
sat next to her, hugging her, as water drops soaked her too. “Douglas left.”

“Where did he go?”

“To get Wills, now will you be
reasonable?”

Candace nodded.

“It won’t help to sit around like a
plump sheep. Come and smile for me. I need your encouragement. You’ll see;
Douglas will bring Wills back, and everything will be well.”

Candace returned her hug.

“I want to see you in the hall for
dinner, Candace. Go see your mother, she’s worried about you.” She felt better
once she left Candace’s room.

Onward to Rachel. She tapped on the
door and heard Rachel’s voice. She wasn’t prepared for the sight, when she
opened the door. Rachel had been badly beaten. She gasped when Rachel faced her
and she couldn’t help but be affected.

“I, oh, Rachel, how are you
feeling?”

Rachel cast her eyes downward, and
must have felt so lowly for what she’d done.

“Rachel, talk to me.”

“I can’t, I’m sorry. I didn’t know
what to do. I helped them because I was afraid.”

“I know.” She patted the only part
of her that didn’t seem bruised, her hand.

“Can you ever forgive me? You were
so kind and I wouldn’t blame you, should you not find it in your heart to
forgive me.”

“You hurt me and put me in such
danger, but if it wasn’t for that, I would not have helped my friend Romy. It
must have been God’s will that sent me there again.”

“You must hate me, I will
understand if you wish to strike me.”

“As much as you have hurt me,
Rachel, I couldn’t do that. Why did you do it?”

“Irving would have killed me, had I
not agreed to assist him. At first it was easy because I hated the Kerrs as
much as he did, but then I got to know them. They are such a loving clan. After
your brother came and I …” Rachel let a tear fall. “I know there is no excuse,
Isabel, but I was afraid of Nigel the most. He told me what to do, and like a
coward, I did it.”

“Did Nigel beat you?”

“Nay, Nigel left with you. I
returned to Irving’s and the witch did this.”

“I’ve some herbs I can mix if you
are in pain.” Isabel had to do something for her, and she realized the poor
lady had been in even a worse predicament.

“I don’t need anything. I’m trying
to stay out of sight until these bruises fade. I don’t want him to see me.”

“Douglas?”

“Nay, Cedric,” Rachel confessed.

“You’re fond of Cedric?”

Rachel lowered her head. “It seems
there will be child born in the fall.”

Isabel’s eyes widened. “Are you
saying that—”

“Aye, Cedric is the father. I was
able to keep Nigel from my room when I was at Irving’s. It was difficult, he
stalked me. Cedric is the only man I’ve been with in a long time.”

“I’m sorry about my brother, he’s a
rat. I know how you must have felt, likely the same as me, scared. What will
you do about Cedric? He deserves to know about his child.” Isabel poured water
in a cup and handed it to her. She then straightened up the chamber.

Rachel finally spoke after some
minutes. “I know I have to tell him, but I can’t face him yet.”

Isabel nodded. “I truly don’t
despise you, Rachel. You can never return to the Dunmore’s now. I’m sure
Douglas will let you stay here.”

“I would like that.”

Isabel walked to the door, smiling
at her as she left.

She placed her hands over the globe of
light, feeling energy flowing inside her body.

“Magical charge, give me the power of
victory over him. He won’t concede, and doesn’t remember me. Come, warrior,
come, and let it be done. The killing will be so fulfilling.”

Douglas called a halt and waited
until his men reached the summit where they could look down on the Dunmore
keep. His eyes scanned the ramparts and outer walls. He counted the men on
watch. The drawbridge wasn’t lowered, and they would have to scale the walls to
gain entrance. He saw a small band of men ride to the gates from inside the
lower bailey. Heavy chain clanked when the drawbridge lowered. Four men hastily
rode through, the drawbridge closed.

His eyes searched out the Sassenach
pig. He spotted one man dressed in the usual English attire; three others wore
the Dunmore plaid. He rode swiftly toward the four men, and had his sword drawn
before he reached them. The Dunmore men tried to flee, but his warriors flanked
their backs. They pulled their swords out, and Douglas took on the task. He
jumped from his horse, anticipating revenge, tasting the bitterness of it.

“Nigel Calvert.”

“Who are you? What do ye want with
us?”

“Douglas Kerr, you demon,
son-of-a-bitch.”

“You’re the Kerr Laird?” He looked
around for an escape, but his eyes returned to him.

“Aye, you bastard. How could you
hurt Isabel? She’s your sister for God’s sake.”

“What do you care? She’s a woman,
the same as any other. Get yourself a new wife.” Nigel swung his sword in a
large arc, but missed him by a foot.

Douglas stood his ground, waiting
with forbearance for Nigel to come at him again. The two Dunmore men started
swinging, but only Gil and Lowrie intercepted them. Douglas held up his sword
to ward off Nigel’s attack, the steel of their swords clashed, sounding loudly.
Nigel began sweating, panting his exertion, but he relaxed. He didn’t exert one
harsh breath at Nigel’s onslaught.

Several men came from the holding
and rode to the fracas. The battle grew heated as the remaining Kerr warriors
took up arms. Several men fell, all of them Dunmores. Douglas waited for the
right moment. Nigel tired, not that Douglas couldn’t have killed him several
times all ready, he wanted to savor the feeling of killing him. He knew the
second Nigel faltered, and he advanced without waning his sword. He thrust and
returned his sword again and again, until he had Nigel positioned on the
ground. Douglas jabbed his sword in his chest, leaving it standing upright. Nigel
gasped as blood flowed from his mouth, then he stilled as death came to claim
him for his servitude in hell.

Gil called out. “The drawbridge is
closing, Laird. Shall we proceed to the walls?”

“Aye, let us go.” Douglas yanked
his sword from Nigel’s chest. The vile man was dead, and could hurt his wife no
longer. He sheathed his sword, swaggering toward the Dunmore keep.

When he got to the gate, the guards
stood silent. “Irving, come out here, I want to talk to you.” He motioned to a
man. “Tell your laird I want to see him.”

He waited several minutes until
Irving appeared. He looked ill, and could barely stand. Mayhap he’d imbibed too
much ale or … As Irving got closer, he could smell the foul odor coming from
him.

“Irving, give the command to let me
enter.”

“Nay, so you can strike me down,
Douglas? Nay, never.”

“Open the damned gate, or you’ll
lose many men if I have to scale your walls.”

Irving straightened and was about
to give a command. Douglas shouted at him to open the gates again, but he
swayed on his feet. As if in slow motion, Irving fell backward, landing on the
ground with a stringent thud, making the dirt from the ground billow out from
under him. Shouts rang out as the Dunmore Laird fell. Several soldiers ran to
him and lifted his body.

Douglas called to Tavish Dunmore.

“Tavish, I give my word, no Dunmore
men will come to harm if you let me enter.”

Tavish agreed by giving the command
to open the gates. Douglas told his men to wait in the courtyard, and then he
called Gil to his side. “You’ll come inside with me, Gil.”

“What’s wrong with the Dunmore?” Gil
watched him being carried away.

“Let us find out, shall we.” Douglas
entered the empty hall. There wasn’t even a servant standing idly waiting to
serve. No one, save for the three of them.

Tavish followed them inside. He
called for the serving wenches, and motioned for Douglas and Gil to be seated.

“Tavish, this place looks like …”
He couldn’t continue because the sight of the hall stifled his words. “What’s
happened here?”

“’Tis gladdened I am that ye came. He’s
been this way for sometime, it’s her. She did this to our clan. Brought the
blackness to us, she did. Och, I can’t get him to listen and send her away.”

“Her? Rachel?”

“Nay, the sorceress. She’s
bewitched my laird, and since doing so, she’s ruined us. She came nigh onto two
years ago, and since he’s acted strange. He’s let his duties fall, his home,
and his clan.”

Douglas’ frown intensified when he
saw the deterioration of the keep. “I’ll see to it, Tavish.”

“Aye, I’m relieved that someone
will help us. We have no one to aid us now with Irving so indisposed.”

“Bring this sorceress to me. I’ll
find out what’s going on.” Then he reconsidered. “Nay, show me where she is.”

Douglas and Gil were led to the
oldest part of the keep, to a tower at least a hundred years old. Several
stones lay crumbled on the floor as they walked along. A strange odor filled
the air, like sulfur. Gil drew his sword from his scabbard. Douglas felt cold
for some odd reason. He came upon a thick wooden door and opened it. Only
shadowy light filtered through the narrow slits of the stone walls. The three
of them, Gil, Tavish, and Douglas stalked into the room. Gil backed up when a
bat left its perch on the high wooden beam overhead. Tavish lit a torch and
moved it around the room.

Douglas saw a figure lying on the
bed and went to find out who it was. He pulled the cover aside to find Wills
emaciated with his eyes opened, staring up at him.

“Wills.” He shook him. “Wills,” he
repeated. He thought for a moment that he might be dead, until Wills mumbled
incoherent words. He wasn’t in his right mind that was evident by his glazed
stare. Douglas told Gil to take him to an empty bedchamber. Gil hefted Wills
over he shoulder and left. He couldn’t leave fast enough, as spooked as he
seemed.

Tavish continued searching the
chamber. “Come, Moira, Laird Kerr wants to speak to ye.”

“Go away. Where’s Irving? He’ll
kill you for entering my chamber.”

Douglas recognized the voice
instantly. He stared in disbelief when Tavish pulled her to a standing
position. Morna Farley stood defiantly, with her chin raised, sending him looks
of disdain.

Her gasp indicated she knew him. “You—you
should be dead.”

“Lady Morna? Moira? What are you
doing on Dunmore land?” Realization struck when he asked the question. He knew
exactly why she was there, and what she was up to. “Why would you go to such
lengths?”

“No one leaves me. Irving said he
would kill you. I made sure he had enough …” Her words trailed off when Douglas
forced her backward. She leaned against the wood of a large table that held her
herbs and potions.

“Had enough what? What did you do
to them?”

“Only what they wanted, my lord. What
I could have done for you, if you hadn’t left me.” She raised her hands, looked
to the ceiling, and began to chant in a strange language.

Douglas gripped her arms, jerking
them downward. The witch wouldn’t be casting a spell on him. “What have you
done with my cousin’s daughter?”

“I know not of any cousin’s
daughter.” Her hands released, she tucked them behind her as she answered.

“I don’t believe ye. Why did you
have the McFie’s property slaughtered?”

“Oh, aye, the McFies, that worked
rather nicely, didn’t it, Douglas? I drew you out of your keep. What a shame I
didn’t poison the arrow, an error in my judgment.”

“You are a witch from hell, Morna. Did
you kill Laird MacIver?”

“How did you know about him?”

“There were footsteps, one smaller
than the others. You were there. Did you stab him?”

“Of course I did. He accused me of
trying to harm Wills.” She laughed loudly. “I cast my spell and waited for ye,
but you came with too many men. I would have taken care of you then, but you
left hastily. If Irving won’t kill you, then I will. You were supposed to marry
me.”

Her voice held such conviction that
Douglas considered her mad. Morna pulled a large dagger from behind her back
and ran at him.

Tavish gutted her before she
reached him. Morna screamed a harrowing sound, she looked down at herself,
grabbing the sword, and yanked it out. The sword dropped to the floor with a
loud clank—only a moment before she joined it. Douglas knelt down and brushed
her hair from her face. How had he ever thought to marry her? He watched her
lifeless body and got a sudden chill.

“Thanks be, Tavish, she was
demented. I can’t believe what I just saw.”

“Aye, she was indeed of a black
soul. I’ll have my men remove her. Come, let us get the hell out of here, this
place give me the willies. A clootie resided here.”

“A devil? She was indeed bedeviled.
Don’t touch her body, don’t let anyone near her or inside here. I can’t imagine
she would be so ireful at my leaving her, and that she would try to kill those
related to me … It makes me feel …” He couldn’t continue. Douglas returned to
the hall, and sat at the table. He drank a full tankard of ale before putting
it down. Gil and Tavish joined him.

“You know who she was Laird Kerr?”
Tavish asked.

“Aye, she called herself Morna then,
it was years ago. I met her at a keep we stayed at. I thought to marry her at
one time. My father asked me to, though I didn’t really feel anything for her
and so I left.” Douglas wasn’t about to reveal anything more.

“She must have been very angry to
come all this way to get her revenge,” Gil said soberly.

“I’m shocked by what I saw. I can’t
believe she was so devious, wanting to kill me so badly because I wouldn’t
marry her. I didn’t know she was a witch.” He looked searchingly at Tavish, as
though he had imagined the whole ordeal.

“How is Wills? Have you seen to
him, Gil?”

“He’ll be well once the effects of
the herbs wear off. It may take a few weeks. A servant is sitting with him.”

Douglas nodded. “Has anyone seen to
Irving?”

“We’ve taken him to his chamber; he’s
in the same condition as Wills.”

“Tavish, have someone board up the
tower room after she is removed, let none enter there. It’s an evil place.”

“The witch will be burned afore
dusk.” Tavish left to take care of the chores.

Douglas spent the rest of the day
putting the keep to rights and walking with Tavish. They went over the
protection of the walls. He scrawled a note to Isabel and had one of his men
take it. He didn’t want her to worry and only said that he had matters to see
to, but wouldn’t return for a few weeks. He didn’t mention Wills, or any
details that had occurred. The tasks ahead of him were vast because Irving
hadn’t seen to his duties in such a long time. His denizens were left in ruins,
their homesteads depleted. Douglas met with them and listed their needs. He
reassured them that Irving would see to them when he regained his health. The
various outer buildings needed repairs, so he set several Dunmore men to the
task.

Irving became clearheaded on the
fifth day of Douglas’ stay. Douglas strode into his chamber and saw Irving
sitting up in his bed. “You’re finally awake enough to talk to me.”

“What are you doing here?”

Douglas saw his eyes lower, as if
waiting for an attack that would surely do him in.

“I rid your home of that
insufferable woman. She was poisoning you and your clan.”

Irving opened his eyes when he attained
that he wasn’t going to kill him. “What woman?”

“Moira, or rather, Morna Farley. She
was hoping to gain your compliance so you’d kill me.”

“I would never try to deliberately
harm you, I …”

“She told us before we sent her to
the hereafter. You had no idea what she was up to?”

Irving shook his head. “You killed
her?”

“Actually, Tavish killed her. She
was coming at me with a dagger at the time.”

Irving tried to move off the bed.

“Stay there, we must talk
privately. This is as good as place as any to settle the matter.” Douglas
leaned back against the chair he’d taken.

“What matter?”

“This feud between us, I don’t know
where to start.”

“Douglas, you don’t have to say
anything. I am beholden to you because you have helped me. I don’t want to
fight you. Furthermore, I can’t continue …” Irving blanched at his own words. Douglas
stared at him. “I continued the feud. Douglas, there’s nothing like a good feud
between men to keep us … young.”