Margo Maguire (23 page)

“Lachann, I need . . .”

“Aye. So do I.” His breathing seemed labored, but he guided her hand to his shaft, that hard, pulsing, utterly male part of him that strained for her attention.

She encircled him, weighing the length and breadth of his arousal, knowing she wanted nothing more than to join with him. In the flickering light, she saw the muscles of his jaws clench, but he took her mouth in another searing kiss, at the same time spreading her legs with his thighs.

She felt him then, positioning his hard male flesh against her welcoming softness.

“Aye, Lachann,” she gasped, needing him
now
. Needing that perfect union she’d never believed in before he’d come to her.

His next movements were slow and tentative, as though taking care of the most fragile, most precious treasure in all of Kilgorra. But Anna wanted more, she needed him now.

“Please . . .”

“Aye, lass.”

He lifted her hips and surged into her all at once. Then he held perfectly still. “Anna?”

“Aye.” She nearly wept the word. And then she moved against him.

Chapter 36

A
s Anna enveloped Lachann with her entire body, sheathing him so tightly, he felt as though his heart would burst. Such intimacy was entirely foreign to him, and he knew that what he felt was only possible with his Anna.

He had hoped she would defy her uncle to stay with him, and Lachann’s love for her swelled at the thought of her unflagging loyalty. It meant as much to him as her love.

He moved within her, setting a rhythm that she followed, and they flowed together as naturally as the waves of the sea on the shore. He kissed her deeply as they moved, wanting to savor every part of her body, wanting her soul.

He looked into her eyes, so beautiful, so passionate. “I love you, lass.”

All his muscles clenched, his world narrowing to include only her, and him, and the space they shared at that moment.

His blood roared in his ears. Bursts of flame shot through him, making him feverish. He plunged deeply, catching Anna’s open, intimate gaze. She arched against him, drawing him in ever deeper, and Lachann felt himself losing control. Raw pleasure shot through him, and as she ground her hips against him, he found his release. Her own shuddering pleasure magnified his a hundredfold.

He remained inside her, holding her close, their breaths coming in short, labored pants. He never wanted to leave.

Gently, he brushed a few tendrils of her silken hair from her forehead. Then he kissed her softly, repeatedly—her forehead, her eyes . . . her lips. And
Gesu,
but he wanted her again.

“Are you all right?”

She made a small sound of contentment and nodded, shuddering again with the aftereffects of her climax.

Lachann withdrew and rolled to his side, pulling her with him. She fit him so incredibly perfectly, and when she pressed a kiss to his chest, he thought he might just incinerate like the embers in the fireplace.

A
long while later, Lachann lay beside Anna with his elbow bent and his head propped up on his hand. He caressed her arm and shoulder while Anna rubbed her fingers across his prickly jaw.

“What’s this?” he asked, when his fingers traced the raised scar on her forearm.

“From a burn when I was small.”

“How did you get it?”

She shrugged. “ ’Twas naught.”

“ ’Twas Catrìona.”

Anna hesitated before she spoke. “Aye. She has always enjoyed hurting me. But getting Mungo Ramsay to drown Effie was the worst thing . . .” She hesitated, and her breath caught as a forgotten memory returned to her.

“What? What is it?”

Anna blinked back tears. “Gudrun brought me a bonny orange kitten once. And it . . . it just disappeared. We searched everywhere—”

“
Gesu
. The woman is a menace.”

“My stepsister resented me from the day I arrived with my mother on Kilgorra.”

“But I doubt you were her only victim,” Lachann said. “That kind of meanness never confines itself.”

Anna supposed he was right. She was just glad to see Effie curled on the fur rug in front of the fire, sleeping lightly, as cats were wont to do. She was none the worse for her brush with death.

“You did not know your mother was Norse royalty?”

Anna shook her head. Unable to get enough of him, she traced the outline of his lips. “I was barely more than a bairn when my father died and we left Kearvaig. Gudrun said we came here because my mother had met Laird MacDuffie and liked him very much. She knew he was widowed, too.”

“But MacDuffie abandoned you when she died?”

“He seemed to . . . to just forget about me,” she said. “But my mother’s maid, Gudrun—and Flora, of course—saw that I was cared for.”

He remained silent, frowning fiercely.

“What I know of my mother’s life—it seemed to be one misfortune after the other,” Anna said. “And her marriages did not improve matters for her.”

Lachann tipped his head down and kissed her lightly. “You will not follow her path, love.”

Anna felt a surge of emotion building in her chest. “I believe you.”

Aye, she believed him, with all her heart. With Lachann as her husband, her life would be whole, no matter what the challenges on the isle might be.

“Oh!” Anna sat up suddenly. “So much has happened—did you find Macauley? Is Duncan all right?”

“Aye, Duncan has a nasty bump on his head, but he’ll survive.”

“And Macauley?”

“He tried to sabotage one of the cannons.” Lachann’s countenance darkened as he spoke. “But it exploded while he was at it.”

“Explo—” Anna swallowed. “Then he’s . . . dead?”

L
achann didn’t know how long they slept, but he took his time with Anna, waking her gently with light kisses and feathering caresses. He made love to her slowly and with care, cherishing every moment with this woman who had defied her kin to marry him.

She could have gone with Count Leirvik and become a princess in his country. And yet she chose to stay with him.

“What will you do about Catrìona?” Anna asked when they were sated and she lay contented in his arms.

“I’ve decided to send her to Glasgow,” Lachann replied. “Do you remember last night when she pushed you in the garden . . . she said she was the one who wanted to leave.”

Anna nodded. “Do you think she meant Kilgorra? Meant to leave the isle?”

“I don’t know what she meant. But I think ’twould be best if she did go. I won’t tolerate her petty cruelties or . . .”

“Or what?”

“Her use of the chapel,” Lachann said. The night Catrìona had taken him out there, he’d begun to suspect another facet of her true nature. “ ’Tis one thing to meet a lover. But Catrìona . . .”

Anna nodded against him. “She had many. The islanders hoped you would not find out, because then you would leave . . .” She put her hand on his chest, and he covered it with his own. “And we so desperately needed a good, strong laird.”

“And what do you need, Anna, love?”

He heard her swallow thickly. “I need only you, Lachann,” she replied. “For most of my life, I thought of little else but finding a way to leave Kilgorra, to get away from Catrìona and this keep.”

He felt her warm breath on his naked chest, and he encircled her with his arms, rolling her to her back.

She lay beneath him, looking up. “But I never knew I would love someone as I love you.”

It occurred to Lachann then that if Fiona had truly loved him, she would have disregarded her father’s command that she stay and marry Macauley. Her feelings for him could not have run quite so deep.

’T
was late in the afternoon when they went down to the village. Some of Lachann’s men were up on Roscraig Peak, replacing the cannon Macauley had destroyed. They heard the echoes of hammers working beneath the Peak at the granary.

Lachann took Anna to the edge of the village and kissed her. “I’m going back to the granary and see how the work goes,” he said.

“I want to look in on Davy MacDonall, then I feel I should visit my uncle on his ship,” she replied.

“Would you like me to accompany you?” he asked.

Anna shook her head. “You have other matters to attend to.”

He cupped her chin in his hand. “I love you, lass.”

Anna closed her eyes for a moment and basked in wonder at the depth of his affections. Even now, ’twas difficult to believe the reversal of fortunes—of Catrìona being caught in her viciousness, of Anna’s family coming for her.

Of Lachann’s love.

She walked up to the MacDonall cottage, feeling rested and happy. Janet soon joined her, and they continued together toward the MacDonall cottage.

“Ah, ye look as bright and happy as a bride should be,” Janet said. She gave Anna’s cheek a slight pinch. “The laird looks like a well-pleasured man—”

“Janet!”

The healer laughed. “Ach, my lass—keepin’ yer man satisfied is no cause fer embarrassment. Everyone is pleased to have Lachann MacMillan as laird, and you as his wife.”

Mayhap, but not half as pleased as Anna.

“ ’Tis said Lachann locked Catrìona in the old chapel last night. His man Kieran said he’s plannin’ on sendin’ her away to Glasgow. And Mungo Ramsay with her.”

“Aye?”

“Ye did’na know, lass?”

“I knew of his plan for Catrìona, but we did not speak of Mungo.”

“I can well imagine you had other things to do,” Janet said with a sly wink. “It seems a good solution,” she added. “Kilgorra needs no more of Catrìona’s poison. And Mungo . . .”

Anna agreed with Janet. The sooner Catrìona was gone, the better.

They reached Davy’s home and went inside. While Janet gave the lad some medicine to drink, Anna spoke to Meg and assured her that Lachann intended to help the family in any way he could.

She stayed a short while, then left the cottage to head down to the pier. She’d gone only a few steps when she heard footsteps behind her and someone shoved her hard, knocking her down.

“Catrìona!”

Her stepsister laughed, and Anna scrambled up to her feet. “Aye. You thought I was locked away, did you?”

“I-I—”

“Well, I was. For a time. But a clever woman has her ways . . .”

Catrìona advanced on Anna and Anna backed up, unsure what her stepsister was about but assuming she would try to do her worst.

“Drowning that horrid creature of yours was not enough to destroy you, Anna MacIver,” Catrìona said. “ ’Twas a measly cat. And besides . . . your damnable
champion
rescued it.”

Anna looked ’round, hoping someone was near and would see them. But they were alone, and as Catrìona stood glaring at Anna, her words began to sink in.

“My cat? What do you mean she was not enough to . . .” Catrìona’s meaning became clear. “No, Catrìona! You cannot!” Anna shoved back at Catrìona and ran past her, frantic to get to Kyla. For that was all Catrìona could possibly have meant—that she’d put Kyla in danger, for Ky had always been more important to Anna than anyone . . .

“Ach, aye, dear sister!” Catrìona shouted with a vicious grin. “You finally understand. But you’re too late!”

Anna had to get to Kyla, but she did not know if her friend had gone home or if she was still at the castle. As Meg MacDonall and Janet and the other neighbors came out of their cottages to see what was amiss, Anna called to them to start searching for Kyla and Birk.

Ach, ’twould be so easy for Catrìona to incite a drunken Birk to kill Kyla.

In a panic, Anna ran toward Kyla’s home, but she heard roars of anger and cries of terror coming from the direction of the pier.

It took only seconds for Anna to get down there. Wee Douglas was crawling across the wooden planks toward his mother, but Birk had Kyla by the hair. He whipped her ’round and slapped her hard, knocking her to the ground, splitting her lip.

“Birk!” Anna screamed. “Get away from her!”

But Birk went after Kyla again, and Anna assailed Birk, frustrated that she was not strong enough to effect much damage on the enraged man. Still, she pummeled his back with her fists, and weak as her blows might have been, at least he turned from Kyla to ward off her attack.

Anna ducked away, and he somehow missed striking her.

Birk roared with frustration and drew his flaying knife from his belt.

And Anna realized she had no weapon to use.

“Birk!” Kyla cried, and he turned toward her with murderous intent in his eyes.

Panic rose in Anna’s chest. She glanced ’round for something—anything—she could use to thwart Birk, but she found naught. The man was going to kill Kyla, and there was naught she could do.

Chapter 37

L
achann was on his way down to the pier when he heard the commotion. When he saw Birk Ramsay take a swing at Anna, he drew his pistol from his belt. “Anna! Move away!”

But like a vicious animal with the taste of blood on his chops, Birk roared and went for Kyla with his knife.

“Ramsay! Halt!”

The bastard stopped for half a second to look back at Lachann, at the pistol he held, primed and ready for shooting, but he roared Kyla’s name and raised the knife.

Lachann pulled the trigger.

The explosion was deafening, and the sharp smell of gunpowder dispersed in the air. Birk fell and did not move again. Kyla lay under him, reaching for her bairn.

As Anna screamed for Kyla, Lachann rushed to Anna and saw that she was unhurt. He wanted naught but to pull her into his arms, but he pushed Birk off Kyla and helped Anna’s friend to her feet. “Are you all right?”

Kyla was pale and shaken, and did not answer him. She was hurt, her face fresh with bruises and a few small cuts. And Lachann did not regret at all what he’d had to do.

It had all happened so fast that men from the
Glencoe Lass,
as well as those from the Norse ship, were still climbing down to the pier to see what was amiss.

Anna seemed not to notice the crowd that had gathered ’round them. She picked up Kyla’s bairn and put her arm ’round her friend. “ ’Twas Catrìona that did this, Lachann,” she said, brushing away her tears. “She got out of the chapel and somehow . . .”

Lachann turned to the men who’d followed him down from the granary. “Start searching. Find Catrìona and bring her to me! Someone go up to the chapel and see what happened to the guard I posted.”

Roy Ramsay pushed through the crowd to Lachann. “
Gesu,
” he said under his breath, then he went to Kyla. “Lass . . . I should have done more to stop Birk. Can ye forgive me?”

A
nna and Lachann took Kyla home and put her to bed. Janet came in to tend to the cuts on her face, then gave her something to help her sleep. When Kyla was settled into her bed, Anna came out of the small bedroom and spoke to Janet and Lachann. “She is with child.”

Janet nodded. “I know. But she is far better off without a husband than with the one she had.”

Anna silently agreed. But she felt shaken by all that had happened, and more than a bit worried about Ky. Her friend had said naught since the shooting on the pier. She just lay shaking in her bed.

Janet put her hand on Anna’s shoulder. “I heard what Catrìona said outside Meg MacDonall’s cottage, lass.”

Anna looked up at Lachann and wiped her tears. “ ’Twas Catrìona who put Birk up to this last beating. She intended for him to kill Kyla . . . t-to hurt me.”

“Well, she nearly succeeded,” Janet said. “If not for yer sharp shot, Laird . . .”

“We’ll find her, Anna,” Lachann said. “I won’t allow her to hurt anyone else.” He was pacing restlessly, waiting for word that his men had found the witch and had confined her. But it was Roy Ramsay who turned up.

Birk’s father stepped inside. “I’ll sit with Kyla, if ye do’na mind.”

Anna nodded and handed Douglas to him. She knew Lachann was anxious to join his men in the search for Catrìona. Anna felt the same.

“Bar the door,” Lachann said as he and Anna went to leave. “Catrìona will be a threat to Kyla’s well-being until she is confined on my ship and far out to sea.”

They met Duncan and another of Lachann’s men on their way down to the pier. “We’ve seen no sign of Catrìona, Lachann. She’s vanished.”

“No,” Anna said. “I know where she might be.”

T
hey started down the beach, but Lachann stopped while his men walked ahead. “I don’t want you anywhere near Catrìona,” he said. Thinking of the woman who was still at large and capable of doing Anna some harm made his blood run cold.

“I have something to tell her,” Anna said. Lachann had never seen such solid resolve in her expression.

“Tell her later,” he said, “when she’s in chains in the cargo hold of my ship.”

Anna shook her head and started walking. As she took the path to the beach, Lachann reloaded his pistol. He was glad Anna had such confidence in him, but he did not like her taking this risk. Still, he understood her desire for satisfaction. Catrìona had done some terrible things, not the least of which had been her attempt to get Kyla killed.

Gesu,
the woman’s blatant callousness chilled him. She was the coldest human being he’d ever encountered.

Except, perhaps, Cullen Macauley.

Lachann had received word that Mungo Ramsay was still locked in the shed up at the castle, but who knew whether Catrìona had other allies on the island. One of her men, perhaps.

He and the others went with Anna down the beach, farther than Lachann had yet explored. The terrain was rocky and rough, and only passable on foot.

“Do you see the castle wall just there?” Anna pointed to the high wall above the caves on the left.

“Aye. And the gate . . . behind the chapel?”

“Look closely, and you can see a way to climb up. Or down.”

Lachann noticed the ledges that formed a natural staircase up and over the caves in the wall. “Catrìona got out that way?”

Anna nodded. “ ’Tis the only way out of the castle besides the main gate.”

“ ’Twould have been good to know this sooner.”

“I’m sorry, Lachann. I should have thought to tell you. This is where Cullen pushed Glenna down.”

Lachann took Anna’s hand and kissed it. “You can show me the entire island . . . after we get Catrìona away.”

They walked in silence, in hopes of taking Catrìona by surprise. They followed the curve of the beach, and Anna stopped them suddenly, just before the land took a sharp turn to a deep inlet. She whispered to Lachann, “This is one of her places. There is a cave just past that thicket.”

“Wait here, Anna. Wait until I can make sure she is no threat to you.”

She gave a reluctant nod, and Lachann gave her a quick kiss. He motioned for his men to spread out as they approached the cave. As they moved closer, they heard voices from within, both male and female. It sounded like an argument.

“I will’na kill for ye, Catrìona,” the man said, his voice raised in frustration.

“Then what good are you to me, Eòsaph Drummond?” ’Twas Catrìona, her voice shrill.

Lachann did not wait but signaled for his men to storm the cave. He held his pistol in his hand, and when the three of them stood blocking the entrance, the man Catrìona had called Eòsaph tried to make a run for it.

The sight of Lachann’s pistol stopped him, but Catrìona was not so wise. She ran at Lachann, but Kieran was too quick for her. He knocked her feet out from under her, grabbed her, and wrestled her to the ground as she kicked and screamed for Eòsaph to do something.

“Restrain her, Kieran,” Lachann said as Anna came to stand alongside him.

“With pleasure,” Kieran replied.

“Laird . . . ,” Eòsaph murmured. “I . . .”

“Stand still, Drummond, until I know what part you have in all this.”

“Naught! I’ve done naught! She told me to wait for her here, and that’s all I’ve done.”

Catrìona caught sight of Anna then. She screamed and spit out her fury, but Anna stood quietly, waiting for her stepsister to take a breath.

Then she spoke. “You failed, Catrìona. You tried to make my life a misery, tried to take away all that I love . . . but you failed, in every way. I will not miss you when you are gone.”