Highland Angel (15 page)

“Why have ye come here? To gloat o’er imagined slights? To try to pass your own sins onto me?” she asked. “Ye waste your time. We really have naught to say to each other.”

“Nay? Mayhap I have decided to forgive ye and accept ye back as my wife.”

“I was ne’er your wife.” For the first time, Kirstie truly believed that.

Roderick ignored her. “Aye, ’tis time for us to become a true family. ’Tis time ye had a child.”

Kirstie crossed her arms over her chest to hide the trembling that suddenly seized her. Roderick did not know she had overheard Gib and Wattie speak of his plans to get her with child, using them as studs. She did not want to believe he would do such a thing, then told herself not to be such an idiot. A man who could do what he did to children was capable of anything. Considering what fate he probably intended for the child itself, she should not really be so deeply shocked over how he wanted to obtain that child.

“Ah, so ye have decided to try to be a mon again,” she said, and watched him actually start to swing his fist at her only to stop it, shaking slightly from the effort. “Tsk, such a temper ye have.”

“One does wonder why ye seem so intent upon stirring it up.”

“Does one?” She did, and did not really have an answer for that. “I dinnae believe I am quite ready to have a child.”

“Bearing children is one, mayhap the only, useful thing a woman does. ’Tis also your duty as my wife.”

“Just as it is your duty to give me one, but ye seem unable to do so, so where does that leave us?”

Roderick crossed his arms over his chest. “I could wait to see if that great lover Sir Payton has bred ye, but, nay, I think not. ’Tis possible the bairn would look just like him and that could cause some difficulty. Nay, I shall have my lads see to it. Come, why look so appalled? Ye were willing to spread your legs for Sir Payton. Ye can do it for the men I choose.” A knock at the door drew his attention and he moved to open it, keeping a wary eye on Kirstie as he did. “Curse it, Wattie,” he hissed at the big man standing there. “I told ye I would tell ye when.”

“Your kinsmen are here,” Wattie said. “They want to talk with ye. Now.”

“Jesu, what could they possibly want to talk about now?”

“Weel, ye be telling the world and its mother that Sir Payton Murray stole your wife, that ye are a cuckold. I suspicion they feel ye ought to do something about that
insult, aye? Going to tell them ye got the bitch back?”

“Nay, not yet,” Roderick replied. “I suppose I must talk with them.” He looked at Kirstie. “I suggest ye get some rest, my dear. Ye will be needing your strength later.”

Once alone, Kirstie slowly folded over until her head rested upon her knees. She felt cold, chilled to the bone with fear for herself and all those she cared about. The insanity festering within Roderick also left her afraid. He meant all he had said, was not merely trying to frighten her. Yet, because of that, he had frightened her far more that he ever could have with threats and his fists. There was no reasoning with such a man and no way to guess what he might do. He would do things and act in ways no sane man could ever hope to anticipate. That made him a very dangerous man indeed.

And there was no way she could warn Payton, she realized, and fought the urge to weep. Payton had to know that Roderick would want him dead. He already knew that Roderick wanted Callum dead. But, would he know that Ian and Alice were also in danger? And what about the other children sheltering in his home, now numbering seven? Roderick might not know that they were there, but if he went after the others, he would soon discover them. He had not mentioned Simon and Brenda, but if reminded of them, he would undoubtedly want them silenced as well. Then there were Payton’s three guards to consider.

She slowly straightened up, tightly gripped the arms of the chair, and stared blindly into the fire. Six adults and eight children. No sane person would ever think he could execute so many and get away with it. But, then, Roderick was not sane. She doubted he even thought of them all as people, merely obstacles to his ability to continue his perversions in peace.

The door was unbolted again and Kirstie tensed, fearing Roderick had sent Gib and Wattie to her already. Gib was there, leering at her and looking as if he had not been wounded at all, but he simply guarded the doorway as the kitchen maid Daisy brought Kirstie a tray of food and drink. Gib was not very bright, but he might have as strong a sense of self-preservation as Roderick did. Kirstie wondered if she could stir up a little dissension in the ranks.

“Ye do ken what Roderick plans now, dinnae ye?” she asked.

“Aye. He plans to let me and Wattie breed a bairn on ye,” Gib answered.

“Nay, ye fool, I speak of all the people he is planning to kill. In truth, he is probably planning to have ye and Wattie do the killing so ’twill be your filthy necks the hemp will soon be kissing.”

Gib shrugged. “Been past worrying o’er a hanging for a long while. ’Tis just a matter of when and for what. They can only hang me once, ye ken. And, I think I will enjoy killing that pretty bastard ye have been tupping for a month. Sir Payton’s tupped near half the women in Scotland and the other half wish he would tup them. The man sore needs killing.”

“And, of course, his three guards and his two servants will simply stand back and let ye have at him?”

“I suspicion old Roderick has a wee plan or two for them as weel or they will fall in the fighting. I dinnae much care. Old Roderick’s kept us from hanging for this long. Suspicion he will continue to do so. Clever is old Roderick.”

“Old Roderick is insane,” she snapped, “and I begin to think it is contagious.”

Gib frowned for a moment, then nodded. “Aye, the mon is probably mad as a
March hare. After all, he would have to be to prefer wee lads to a woman.” He wrapped his arm around Daisy’s thick waist, yanked her close to his side, and nuzzled her dirty neck.

The way Daisy paled a little, and the look of frightened disgust on the woman’s face, had Kirstie fighting the urge to attack Gib and try to free the maid. Common sense told her to stay in her seat. All she would accomplish was the chance to nurse a few new bruises and, quite possibly, some rough retribution for Daisy. Then she realized that Daisy was staring at her, that most of her wriggling and sounds of distress were to keep Gib occupied. Once Kirstie met her gaze, Daisy cast a pointed glance at the tray, then winked. It took every ounce of willpower Kirstie had not to look at the tray to discover what Daisy might have hidden there.

“Let go of me, ye fool,” snapped Daisy as she wriggled free of Gib’s hold. “The laird is demanding food and drink for his guests and I need to get back to the kitchens.”

“Go on with ye, then,” Gib said, somewhat roughly shoving her out the door. Once out in the hall himself, Gib paused in shutting the door to leer at Kirstie. “I will be seeing ye later. Me and Wattie. Best ye rest some. Ye will need your strength to handle big men like me and Wattie.”

Kirstie stared at the door as he shut it and bolted it. She wondered idly if, in the ten years he had lived here, Roderick’s insanity had seeped into the very walls of Thanescarr, only to ooze out now and then to infect others. Gib might not be insane, but he was most certainly not quite right in the head. Somehow he, and undoubtedly Wattie as well, had grown to manhood without one single scrap of conscience. She supposed she should not be surprised. Such men were the only ones who could serve Roderick so faithfully.

She turned her attention to the tray Daisy had set down on the table next to her chair. When she touched the square of linen on the tray, she knew whatever Daisy wanted her to have was hidden inside it. Within the folds of the linen was a plain but very sharp dagger. As Kirstie tested the feel of it in her hand, she wondered what Daisy thought she could do with it. The ones working in Roderick’s kitchens had always been sympathetic to her, although their help had always been severely restricted by their fear of Roderick. Kirstie would have preferred some help getting out of Thanescarr, but knew they had taken great risks to slip her a weapon and she was grateful. It did make her feel a little less helpless.

Forcing herself to eat something, Kirstie chewed on a piece of bread, and studied the dagger. If she was very lucky, she might be able to kill Roderick if he came to visit her alone again. She might even be able to kill one of the men who would try to bed her later, but she knew she could never kill or incapacitate both Gib and Wattie. Once she struck one down, the other would kill her without thought or hesitation. Despite all she might suffer in the next few hours, she really did not want to die. Of course, the knife might have been sent so that she could kill herself, but she doubted it.

Kirstie had the feeling that the ones in the kitchens expected her to perform some miraculous escape. She dearly wished she was not about to disappoint them all. About the only way out she could see at the moment was through the window and that would be suicide. The best that would accomplish would be to give Roderick the difficult chore of trying to explain why his missing wife was crushed and bleeding all over his bailey. When Kirstie realized she was actually seeing that as a good thing, she decided it was time to start praying for a miracle.

“Are ye sure Ian will fit?” asked Payton as he stared into the dark hole Callum had uncovered.

From where they stood, Payton could see the men upon the walls of Thanescarr. The trees and brush had been allowed to grow so thick and wild, however, that he felt confident none of those men could see him or the others with him. It seemed odd that a man so protective of his secrets as Sir Roderick would be so careless about the ones his own keep held.

“’Twill probably be a wee bit tight for a few yards,” replied Callum, “but, aye, he will fit. ’Twas made to let a fully armed mon pass through.”

“I will follow ye in for a ways,” said Malkie. “Ye may need help if ye are caught fleeing and, ye ne’er can tell, someone might have finally discovered this, amble along the passage, see it is open, and send up an alarum.”

“Oh, I didnae think of that,” said Callum.

“Nay? Truly?” Malkie’s wide grin removed any sting from his sarcasm. “Go on. Let us be done with this.”

Payton heartily agreed with that sentiment as he followed Callum into the dark, dank passage. Ian and Malkie quickly slipped in behind him, leaving Donald and Angus to guard their route of escape. It only took a few yards for Payton to decide he hated small, dark passageways. What Callum had claimed was only yards soon felt like miles to Payton.

When they reached the wider part of the passage, Payton had to stop. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself as he watched Malkie light a candle. Malkie dripped some wax on a piece of stone jutting out from the wall and set the candle down in it. Payton found that even that faint light was enough to calm his lingering unease.

“’Tis like a cursed coffin,” muttered Ian as he lit the shuttered lantern they had brought with them.

“Sometimes the dark can be a verra safe place,” murmured Callum as he studied the floor for a moment. “It doesnae look as if anyone has come this way, nay since Lady Kirstie and I last used it.”

“But, we will still have to pass through some that are weel used?” asked Payton.

“One or two, but none of those as weel used. We will have to pass by a few places where we had best be verra quiet. Want me to hold up my hand to tell ye when we get near them?”

“Good enough. Lead on, lad.”

Payton was astounded at how quietly the boy moved. Callum also appeared very confident about the direction he took, yet it looked to be a confusing maze to Payton. It was not until they took a second turning that he caught sight of the odd painted scratchings upon the wall. He signaled Ian to bring the lamp closer.

“What are these?” he asked Callum when the boy joined them.

“Lady Kirstie and I made them,” the boy replied. “The arrow means ye go straight down here. The three doors there are the openings ye pass ere ye see another useful passage. See the letter ‘R’ on that second door? It means ye have to be verra quiet going by that place. It opens behind Roderick’s chair at the head table in the great hall. The sun on the first door means ye can get outside through it, but only into the bailey. ’Tis why the sun is frowning. The goblet on the third door means ye can get from there into the
place where they store barrels of wine and ale.”

“Clever,” said Ian.

“Aye,” agreed Payton. “Can we see into the great hall?”

“We can.” Callum pointed to the little circles on either side of the door and Payton realized they were eyes. “Do ye want to look in, then?”

“It might be wise. Might tell us just where Roderick is.”

Callum nodded and started on his way again.

“She turned his own keep against him,” Ian whispered to Payton. “I would wager she made a close study of the whole underbelly of his keep. She could come and go as she wished, and spy on him whene’er she wished to, as weel.”

“It would certainly seem so,” agreed Payton. “And, she did so for about three years. Something tells me the mon still doesnae ken how she found out so much or how she got the children away from Thanescarr. She is, after all, just a lass, one of a breed he has naught but contempt for.”

A moment later, Callum held up his hand. Silently, Payton approached the hole the boy pointed to. Putting his eye to it, Payton was able to see the length of the great hall. He also saw that Roderick was there, deep into an argument with several other men. There was a similarity of appearance that told him these were probably some of his kinsmen. Payton was especially pleased to see that Gib and Wattie were also there.

He listened to the argument for a while before signaling Callum to lead on. Roderick’s kinsmen wanted him to do something to avenge what they saw as a stain upon their honor. For reasons even Payton could not understand, Roderick was trying to counsel patience, but that only seemed to be making his kinsmen angrier and suspicious.

Something was going to have to be done about the MacIyes, Payton decided. If that argument was any indication, Roderick’s kinsmen were considering acting on their own. Roderick was beginning to be seen as a man without a care to the honor of the clan or, worse, a coward. A confrontation with the MacIyes was drawing dangerously near and Payton would prefer it happened on his own terms.

A noise up ahead of them pulled Payton from his thoughts and caused them all to stop. Ian quickly shuttered the lantern. Payton drew his sword even as Callum pulled the large knife he kept sheathed at his side. They could clearly see the flickering of light ahead of them, but it was impossible to see who held it.

“I ken there is someone there,” called a shaky female voice. “’Tis Daisy, the kitchen maid.”

Callum cautiously moved closer and, although Payton could not see what the boy did, he saw Callum visibly relax. “What are ye doing here, Daisy?” asked Callum.

A well-rounded woman stepped away from the wall. “Callum! We thought ye might be dead.” She peered in Ian and Payton’s direction. “Who ye got with ye, lad? Someone to help the lady?”

“Aye. Is she in her bedchamber?” Callum asked as he sheathed his knife.

Daisy nodded. “Locked in tight, she is. I remembered ye saying ye could get into her room, but nay out, save through the doors. Thought I might be able to find that secret way and let her out, but I been standing here for a long time, nay sure which way to go, and too scared to just set off looking. Coward that I am, I keep fearing I will get lost and, a few years from now, some poor fool will stumble o’er my poor old bones.” She sighed and shook her head.

“Ye did your best. We will get my lady out now.”

“Best ye do so and quick. The bastard means to set Gib and Wattie on her. Would have done it by now, but his kinsmen arrived, demanding to see him. Took some bread in to them a wee while ago and decided those kinsmen willnae be staying too much longer. They looked ready to spit on the laird and walk out. Soon as they go, I think Gib and Wattie will be going to Lady Kirstie’s bedchamber. I gave her a dagger, but it willnae help her much against those two brutes, ’less she sticks it into her own sweet heart, poor lass.”

“My lady wouldnae do that. She would kill one of those pigs instead. That is what she would do,” Callum said.

“No need to get so heated, lad. I thought she might use it on one of those ugly fools, that I did. ’Course, she kills one of them and the other will just up and snap that lovely neck of hers. But, at least she would go down fighting, aye?” Daisy gasped, then sighed when Payton stepped up to her, bowed, and kissed her hand. “Oh my, oh my. Ye must be Sir Payton. Ye are a bonnie one, arenae ye? Why, ye are as bonnie as I suspicion our fine lad Callum will be.”

“I thank ye, Daisy,” Payton said. “And I heartily thank ye for getting a dagger to Kirstie.”

“Och, weel, if ’tis gratitude ye wish to show, there be a fine niche just back here—”

“He belongs to Lady Kirstie, Daisy,” Callum said.

“Do ye?” she asked Payton.

Payton smiled faintly. “I rather think I might.”

“Ah, weel, she be a good lass with a heart near as big as the sea. Oh, and who be this fine figure of a mon?” she asked as Ian moved to stand beside Payton.

“He is marrit,” said Callum.

“Weel, what the wee wife doesnae ken,” began Daisy as she stroked Ian’s arm.

“Marrit to a verra fierce, verra mean woman.”

Daisy sighed. “Weel, off with ye, then. I will keep watch here. Any fool comes round and I will keep him so busy ye could move a whole army right on past him.”

After a few more yards, Callum paused at the foot of some narrow stone steps, leaned closer to Payton, and whispered, “We must be verra quiet now. We will be going past rooms that often have someone in them, and Lady Kirstie and I didnae have the time to test them all to see if ye could hear someone moving back here or see the light they carry.”

Payton nodded and carefully followed the boy. The constant need to maintain silence, as well as the brief confrontation with Daisy, was costing them precious time. Although he ached to come to swordpoint with Roderick and his faithful hounds, Payton knew that now would be a very poor time for such a meeting. Getting Kirstie out of Thanescarr unseen and safely back to his home before anyone even realized she was gone was the most important thing. The longer they took to reach her, however, the greater the chance was that they would not find her alone.

Callum suddenly stopped again and Payton tensed. It was soon obvious that the boy was making use of another peephole. Callum then put his mouth near the hole and made the sound of the mourning dove. After a long, tense moment, the sound of a blackbird came back, faint but clear. The sounds were repeated twice more with slight
variations before Callum grinned at him.

“She is alone,” he announced, and started to open the door.

Payton quickly moved to help him with the heavy door. Callum was the first to step into the room and was immediately swept up into Kirstie’s arms. Even as Payton had to smile over the way Callum protested the intimacy all the while he returned the hug, he realized he was actually feeling a little jealous of an eleven-year-old boy. A heartbeat later, Kirstie was in his arms, and he swiftly wrapped them around her, holding her close.

It occurred to Payton that Kirstie meant a great deal to him. Although it was a poor time to have such a revelation, he could not ignore it. The strength of his fear when he had thought her lost to him, the depth of his concern over what might be happening to her, and the joy he felt over having her safely back in his arms had only one explanation. There was a great deal more here than passion, even more than liking and respect. He thought he might even be approaching that elusive emotion called love, but whether he felt that or not did not matter at the moment. Payton was very sure of one thing—he was going to keep Kirstie. Now all he had to do was make her understand that.

He was abruptly yanked from his thoughts when he became aware of how badly she was shaking. “Kirstie?”

Kirstie gave him a quick, hard kiss to distract him from asking any questions. The miracle she had been praying for had arrived. She did not want to waste any time talking. Despite her various pains and the cold fear she could not shake, she wanted to leave. Now.

“We must go,” she said, grasping his hand and pulling him back through the door he had just entered through. “There isnae any time to talk. Later. I will tell ye all that was said and done. Later.”

Payton decided not to argue. He followed her out, pausing only to help Callum shut the door behind them. They moved swiftly and silently until they reached the place where Daisy still waited.

“Oh, thank ye God,” Daisy muttered, and gave Kirstie a brief hug. “Ye go, lass. Go and find a safe place.”

“I will.” Kirstie handed the woman the dagger that had brought her such comfort. “Here, take this back.”

“Ye can keep it.”

“Nay. Ye dinnae want anyone to notice it is missing.” She glanced at the well-armed trio waiting for her. “I am weel protected.”

“Aye, that ye are.” Daisy hugged her again and whispered, “Make him come with a yell once for me, lass.”

Although she could feel herself blushing, Kirstie winked at the woman and whispered back, “I will. Watch your back.”

“Always.” Daisy watched them disappear into the dark, sighed, and headed back to her kitchens to await the uproar.

Roderick stared at the empty bedchamber in open-mouthed disbelief. He was only faintly aware of how Gib and Wattie cursed as they fruitlessly searched the room. Somehow she had escaped him again. Frowning slightly, he moved to look out the open window, but was not surprised when he did not see her body sprawled on the ground below. In truth, he was disappointed. It would have solved so many of his problems and
been relatively easy to explain.

“She didnae go out that way, did she?” asked Wattie as he moved to stand by Roderick and look out the window.

“Oh, nay, nay! She didnae! Please say she didnae!”

The woman who had cried out those words suddenly pushed her way between Roderick and Wattie. She stared out the window, then sighed, and wiped the tears from her round face with the corner of her somewhat dirty apron. It took Roderick a long second look to recognize the kitchen maid Daisy. He hastily stepped back, away from the smell of turnips and sweat.

“Ye gave me such a fright,” said Daisy.

“What are ye doing here?” demanded Roderick.

“I came to collect the tray I left when I brought her some food earlier,” Daisy replied as she moved toward the table.

“Food? I ordered no food brought to my wife.” He marched over to study the remnants of Kirstie’s meal. “’Twas a cursed feast! I ne’er ordered this!”

“Weel, someone did for I was given this tray and told to bring it up here.” Daisy shrugged. “’Tisnae my place to ask questions.”

“I am cursed! Surrounded by fools and traitors!” Roderick cleared the table with one sweep of his arm.

Daisy knelt down and began to clean up the mess he had just made. She went slowly about the chore, listening to Roderick rant. Gib and Wattie tried to offer plans for getting Lady Kirstie back, but the laird was beyond listening. From what Daisy could understand, the man was only interested in killing Lady Kirstie and anyone else she had ever spoken to. Although she had always suspected the laird was not right in the head, Daisy began to think the trouble Kirstie and her allies were causing the man was pushing Sir Roderick deep into insanity. She winced when he finally left the room, for the curses and threats he was bellowing out were almost painful to listen to.