Highland Wolf (19 page)

For a moment James feared Annora would be unable to lie so well to her cousin. She was a very honest woman. Then he recalled the time he had insulted MacKay in French and the man had asked Annora to tell him what had been said. She had revealed a very good skill at telling lies to her cousin then. James suspected that when she felt she or someone she cared about was in danger, Annora could tell a complete lie without blinking, not just one of those ones where she just did not tell the whole truth or even failed to actually answer the question.

“Weel, let us just look at the great Laird Drummond hanging up there like freshly dressed meat,” drawled a woman’s voice James was all too familiar with.

He looked at Mab and nearly gaped. The woman was a mess, her face badly bruised and her hair cut in ragged lengths all over her head. Mab had obviously paid dearly for not holding him in his bedchamber.

“And why has anyone let ye down here?” he asked in a voice that was so sneering and rude, all the guards chuckled. Mab blushed with fury. “There is naught ye can distract me from in here, lass. Get ye gone.”

“Ye willnae escape this place, Wolfs head. Nay alive, ye willnae.”

James shrugged and then fought to hide the pain the movement caused him. “’Tis verra clear that ye have no intention of aiding me or e’en giving me a wee bit of sympathy. So, as I have asked before, each time ye tried to creep into my bed, why are ye here?”

“Mayhap I just wish to watch MacKay teach ye a little humility ere he hangs ye.”

“And mayhap ye need the rest of your hair cut off,” drawled a deep voice James immediately recognized as Egan’s.

Mab paled and hurried away. James looked at Egan and knew without asking that he was the one who had tried to destroy what claim Mab had to beauty. He was probably the one who had kept sending the foolish woman to James’ room. It would be just like Egan to make anyone close at hand suffer for his humiliation.

“Ah, yet another visitor,” drawled James. “I am a popular fellow, aye? To what do I owe this honor?”

“I just have a few questions for ye ere Donnell starts to make ye scream,” said Egan.

“What questions?”

“Have ye touched Annora MacKay?”

James just stared at him. The man had just revealed that he had done nothing to Annora yet that would have exposed her lack of a maidenhead. The relief James felt was so strong he needed a moment to collect his thoughts.

“As I told MacKay, I needed the woman to care for the child.”

“Ye expect me to believe that ye spent a night with her and didnae touch her?”

“Some of us dinnae find throwing an unwilling lass to the ground and taking her to be verra rewarding. So, to answer your question, nay, I didnae take Annora MacKay.”

Obviously he could also lie very well under certain circumstances, James thought. He could tell, however, that Egan was of no mind to believe him even if he had been telling the truth. It was impossible for a man like Egan to think any man could stay so long alone with an attractive woman and not have to ease his lust on her body, willing or unwilling. James suspected that Egan preferred the woman to be unwilling, for it would give him the sense of being the one with all the power.

And this was the sort of man who would still be close to Annora after James was gone. It appalled James to even consider what the man might do to Annora. He did not really have to think too hard since twice he had had to pull the man off Annora. It hurt James beyond words to know that there was a very good chance he would no longer be able to protect her from such brutality.

“Egan, I have been looking for ye,” snapped MacKay as he approached the prison that held James.

“I had to ask the mon if he had touched Annora,” said Egan.

MacKay cursed and pushed Egan out of his way as he walked right up to where James hung from the wall. “So what if Annora is nay longer a virgin?” he asked, staring at James but still speaking to Egan.

“Because that maidenhead was mine to claim. He keeps saying that he didnae touch her, but I think he is lying.”

“Are ye, Drummond?” asked MacKay in a soft, almost gentle voice that made chills run down James’ spine. “I think Egan may be right. I think ye are lying to me. I think Annora is lying as weel. I shall have the truth beaten out of her soon. She needs to heal a wee bit since Egan questioned her about ye a little too vigorously.” MacKay reached for a whip that hung on the wall. “I believe I shall take my time in questioning ye. Ye see, one thing I believe Annora is lying about is the way ye could all get out of Dunncraig without being seen.”

“Ye have some verra poor guards on your walls,” James said, forcing himself not to look at the whip and anticipate the pain MacKay was about to inflict.

“Och, aye, we do, but nay that poor. Few men could miss seeing a mon, a woman, and a wee child leave Dunncraig. Nay, I think this keep has a few secrets I have yet to uncover and I am going to make ye tell all of them to me.”

“Do your worst,” James said in a cold voice, his fear hardening into a deep, cold hatred for the man.

“I intend to,” said MacKay and he raised the whip.

It was beginning to feel as if everyone was just waiting for her to fall facedown in the dirt. Annora knew she was but one stumble away from doing just that, but feeling everyone’s concern as she was only made it much more difficult to keep on going. That concern coupled with a deep respect coming from the men creeping through shadows alongside her made her want to just sit down and allow them all to coddle her. The only man she felt had any fierce need to keep on going was Tormand and she tried to remain open to his feelings. It was enough to keep her plodding toward the well-hidden opening leading into the secret passages of Dunncraig.

“How close are we?” whispered Tormand.

“But a few yards away,” she replied as one by one the men with them slipped deeper into the shadows of the wood they had just entered.

“Sit,” he said and gently urged her to rest for a moment, her back against the rough trunk of a large tree.

“This may nay be verra wise. I may nay be able to get moving again.” When Simon crouched down in front of her and held out a wineskin, she smiled her gratitude and accepted a drink.

“All ye need to do is stay conscious,” said Tormand. “I will carry ye on my back if need be and ye can point the way. S’truth, mayhap I shall do that anyway.”

“Kind of ye to offer but I dinnae think it will ease my pain much at all,” she said.

“Are ye verra certain ye cannae just tell us the way from here or scratch out a map in the ground here?”

“I dearly wish I could, Tormand, but I have only traveled this way once. I ken how to get to the opening e’en though this isnae the way James and I traveled when we fled Dunncraig, but only because I have walked about in these woods for three years and ken every tree and bush around here. ’Tis the passage itself which I need to see in order to tell ye the way to go.”

“Are ye certain ye will recall the way once ye are inside?”

“Aye. I willnae weary ye with tales from my childhood but I learned verra quickly to always be able to find my way back from whence I came. I can travel a path but the once and return the same way nay matter how long a time has passed. It takes many more times of journeying a path for me to be able to tell people where to go or to draw some map.”

“An intriguing skill,” murmured Simon.

“I suppose it is.” She looked at the MacLarens who crouched in the thick shadows several feet away and asked softly, “Are ye certain ’tis wise to let the MacLarens see the way inside Dunncraig? They have a grievance against Dunncraig, aye?”

“They have a grievance against your cousin,” said Simon. “If, when this is all over, James worries about the MacLarens’ kenning where this bolt-hole is, he can easily block the entrance.”

“True enough.” She straightened up and took a few deep, slow breaths. For she knew there would be a lot of pain to deal with when she stood up. “’Tis best if we get moving along again.”

The way Simon and Tormand helped her to her feet eased some of her pain, but it still took another round of slow, deep breaths to regain her balance enough to get moving along again. With Tormand remaining close by her side, his strong arm around her waist
to steady her, Annora led them through the woods until they reached the opening to the passageways that roamed throughout the underbelly of the keep. The doorway that led to the tunnels was cleverly hidden within the thick roots of an old tree, but Annora had no trouble leading the men right to it.

Tormand entered the tunnel first and then Simon gently lowered her down to him. It still hurt but she found she was getting very good at hiding her pain. Annora simply kept promising herself the comfort of a soft bed, a potion to ease her pain, and a few moments alone to weep and cry out all the hurt she had kept hidden for so long. A few times she even imagined herself tucked up in bed with a handsomely concerned James gently bathing her forehead with cool lavender water. The image was enough to keep her moving even when all she wanted to do was lie down and cry like a bairn.

As she slumped against the rocky wall of the tunnel, slumping being something else she was getting very good at, she mused, Tormand lit a torch. Annora blinked as the sudden light hurt her eyes. Leaving Edmund to assist the others into the tunnel and hand out the occasional torch, Tormand escorted her along the tunnel. She steadily led them past several turnings and then turned down the next one. She had only gone a few steps when Simon stopped her.

“Where does this lead to?” he asked.

“The dungeons,” she replied, recalling very clearly how James had paused to point it out to her. “The passage we have just left goes to the kitchens. Ye just keep going straight, watching carefully for a set of wide, uneven steps. Go up the steps and at the top is a door. It leads into the pantry, the one that is always unlocked.”

“Wait here.”

She rested against Tormand’s strong body and muttered, Just where does he think I will go?” She smiled faintly when Tormand laughed so softly that it was little more than a mere whisper of a sound. “What do ye think he is doing?”

“Sending some of the men into the keep through the kitchens.”

“I hope he warns them to be wary of Big Marta.”

“She is expecting something to happen so I dinnae think she will hurt them. How far down this passage are the dungeons?”

“James said it was a straight walk, taking no turnings off it, and it would take about ten minutes if ye were making your way there cautiously, much less if ye had no fear of being seen or heard. I wasnae particularly interested in how far, just where it went to and how I got there. I am only interested in returning to the place I came from.”

“Because ye were left places? Deserted?”

The man had too quick a mind, Annora decided. “Aye. Some of my kin would take me to another kinsmon without making sure that kinsmon was home first or able to take me in. My aunt Agnes did that three times ere a cousin accepted me into her household.”

He said nothing, but she felt his arm tighten round her shoulders ever so slightly in a silent gesture of sympathy. Annora expected to find such sympathy humiliating but she did not. The sense of outrage she felt in Tormand and the feeling of comfort he offered made his feeling of sympathy acceptable. It was not pity, something she would have been repelled by.

When Simon returned they continued on their way. The soft sound of voices alerted them that they were rapidly nearing their destination. Tormand doused his torch and Annora waited for the fear she always felt when caught in the dark to overcome her,
but it only flickered to life for a moment and faded away. She decided she was simply too occupied with her pain and James’ safety to care about the dark. It held nothing as frightening as the possibility that she could not help James get free of her cousin’s cruelty. Even as she started to slide down the wall, Tormand returned to her side and pulled her up against him.

“Steady, lass,” he whispered against her ear. “I have found ye a safe place to rest as we rescue James,” he said even as he began to move her farther down the passageway.

She could feel his growing excitement and decided men were strange creatures. She could not understand how men could find this sort of attack exciting. Tormand and the others were actually anticipating a battle. Annora felt certain that, if there was not a satisfactorily bloody battle, all these men would be disappointed.

A faint glow of light inched into the dark just as Tormand settled her into a niche in the wall of the passageway. Annora could hear voices clearly now and knew she was only feet away from where Donnell had imprisoned James. The sudden sharp crack of a whip nearly made her gasp. Tormand had anticipated the reaction and had gently covered her bruised mouth with his hand.

“Be at ease, lass. Ye have shown great courage to come this far,” he whispered against her ear again as he removed his hand. “Dinnae falter now.”

“He is hurting James,” she whispered back, afraid that she was about to burst into tears.

“He willnae be doing so much longer.”

Even though he was still whispering, Annora could hear the cold, hard resolve in his attractive voice. There was also a fierce anger bubbling up inside the man. Anger such as that usually made her very uneasy, but this time she found comfort in it. Tormand Murray would make her cousin pay dearly for every twinge of pain he had inflicted upon James. She nodded and he slipped away. Annora sat with her back pressed hard against the cool, damp stone hoping the chill that entered her body from the stone would keep her alert. She listened to Tormand’s men slip past her one by one. The silent way they moved and the grim resolve she felt in each man eased her fear for James. Donnell’s cruel reign at Dunncraig was about to come to a bloody end.

James feared he would have no teeth left if he was not saved from this torture soon as they would all be ground to dust. He could do little to stop himself from sweating, however, but MacKay could think that was caused by many things other than fear. James wished he did not have any fear, but knowing this man would stop at nothing in order to inflict the most pain he could made it difficult to hold fear back.

“Ye are a stubborn mon, James Drummond,” MacKay said calmly.

That calm was one of the things that made MacKay seem far more intimidating than he actually was. James doubted the man would be standing there bravely, all calmness and soft, cold smiles, if he was faced with a man freed of his chains. Most brutal men of MacKay’s ilk were actually cowards beneath the skin. Once his own life was threatened MacKay would be running for his life. James was sure of it.

“And ye are a cowardly swine who struts before a chained mon acting brave and in command. Release me to fight ye fair and we shall see how brave ye are.” He was not surprised when those words earned him another lash of the whip.

“Ye dinnae rule here anymore, Drummond,” MacKay hissed, revealing the anger
and envy that hid behind his cold ruthlessness. “I rule now.”

“Your rule here is based on lies and treachery. How long do ye think it can last?”

“As long as I wish. The only ones with any legal claim to this place are either dead, like your wee wife, Mary, or on the run.”

“I suppose ye got some great joy out of cuckolding me.”

“Mary was mine first.”

“Then why didnae ye keep her?”

“Because she had a verra large dowry and her felt she could find a match better than me. But I wanted it. I had earned it.”

“Earned it, how so?”

MacKay stood up very straight, a posture that thrust his rounded chest out until he looked very much like a strutting cock. James decided that he wanted to hear this man tell the truth of his crimes. If he was going to die, then James wanted to do so with all of his questions answered and all of his suppositions confirmed or replaced with the full ugly truth.

“By making the stupid cow fall in love with me.” MacKay shook his head as if amazed all over again at how easy it had been to win Mary’s affections. “Do ye ken why she hated you? Why she did anything I wanted and betrayed ye again and again?”

“Weel, I will admit that I am curious as to why she would want a brutal wee swine like ye and nay a laird with a full purse, one nay too ugly or too old.” He gritted his teeth again as MacKay struck him with the whip but inches from his groin.

“Fool. Ye ne’er really kenned the woman ye had married. She wasnae the sweet shy maid she let everyone, e’en her parents, believe she was. She was a whore. I wager ye thought she was a virgin but that was just some trick she learned from a woman in a tavern whilst she was on a pilgrimage with her mother.”

James had wondered how he had been so fooled. The fact that he had never bedded a virgin had probably aided Mary in her deceit. Since bedding Annora, he had occasionally pondered the mysteries of his wedding night with Mary. The confessions in her journal that revealed she had been a well-experienced woman had not come as a complete surprise.

“Yet ye were willing to murder the woman ye had cared about for so verra long.”

“Wheesht, who said I cared for the cow? She was a lover who enjoyed the rougher side of passion and when she was chosen as your bride I saw the chance of gaining something. But ye didnae offer me any position or e’en to help me find one worthy of my wit and guile.” The tone of outrage in MacKay’s voice told James that that insult still stung. “So, I decided I would have your position. I had learned of a mon who had gained all another mon possessed by proving that the mon had murdered one of his kinswomen. He claimed it all as reparations for the loss of the woman. That is when I realized Mary might be useful. I urged her to marry you and swore to her that she would be a widow verra soon.”

“Ye took your sweet time executing your plan.”

A shadow moved in the far corner of the dungeons near where the guards sat drinking and listening to their laird confess all his crimes. Even as James wondered why the men did not leave, did not seem to understand that it was mortally dangerous to hear any of MacKay’s secrets, he saw another slight movement in the shadows. His heart pounding with the hope that what he saw was not just some trick of the light or a false
vision brought on by pain, James tried to keep his gaze fixed upon MacKay. If there was something happening in the far corner of the dungeon, he did not want to alert MacKay to it.

“A good plan takes time to perfect,” MacKay said a little pompously. “I needed to collect up allies, men in power who could see to it that I got the reparations when ye were convicted of the crime of murdering your wife—my kinswoman. Then Mary bad Margaret and I saw that as even more opportunity. I had witnesses to the fact that she and I were lovers and could claim the child was mine by blood if nay by law. That would help and it would present a verra good reason for why ye murdered her.”

“But she wasnae murdered, was she? It wasnae Mary’s body we found in that burned-out cottage.”

“Nay, it was a maid from the next village. She and I were lovers and Mary found us. She joined in our play for a while but then grew jealous and killed the woman. Since I had all I needed to get ye charged, convicted, and grab hold of Dunncraig, I decided we would just let the world think it was Mary and set my plan into motion.”