31 ONE STEP FURTHER
“NO!” LIZA CRIED, struggling against the man’s iron grip. Her voice rang against stone. “Spare her, please !”
The injured raider hauled her against him, his mailed hand slamming over her mouth to gag her once more. Meanwhile, Tamhas gave a snigger. “Not so high and mighty now, are ye?”
Terror seized Liza by the chest, and she began to struggle wildly, heedless of this man’s crushing hold. Meanwhile, Nettie’s eyes were glassy, her body rigid as her captor’s arm tensed.
He was going to kill the lass, and Liza couldn’t do anything to stop him.
The raider holding Nettie jerked then, his big body spasming, before he staggered. An instant later, his hold on the maid, and on the knife, went slack.
Liza stilled her struggling, realizing that something unexpected had happened.
Nettie twisted away, the knife clattering to the stones, and the raider crumpled.
Alec stood behind him, a bloodied dirk clenched in his right hand.
Chest rising and falling sharply, for he’d clearly just raced down through the tower house to find them, Alec’s face was cold. “Let Lady Maclean go.”
Tamhas sprang forward then, steel flashing as he went for Alec’s throat. The two men dueled before Tamhas made a choking sound. A heartbeat later, he slumped to the ground.
The remaining raider growled a curse, the rasp of steel against leather following, as he drew his own dirk and pressed it against Liza’s neck. “One step further and she dies.” He edged away from the trapdoor then, and the abandoned ring of keys that sat next to it. “Move away from the doorway.”
Rankin’s gaze narrowed. He hesitated a moment before stepping aside. There was a stillness to him that was disquieting. Pressed up against her captor’s body, she felt tension ripple through him. He was limping now, from the two wounds she’d inflicted.
With Rankin here and his accomplices dead, the raider was in trouble—and he knew it. Escape was the wisest choice, rather than attempting to steal any coin, although he needed to keep a knife at her throat if he was to get out of Moy Castle alive.
Liza searched Alec’s face, as her captor drew her steadily toward the doorway, looking for a hint at what he was planning. He gave little away. Only the flicker of something in his eyes warned of the anger he now leashed.
The raider hauled her out of the cellar and limped his way up the stairs, pulling her with him as if she were a sack of neeps.
And Alec followed them.
“Keep back,” her captor wheezed. “Or my blade will slip.”
Liza swallowed, trying to ignore the cold burn of the dirk-blade on her throat. She could smell his desperation now; indeed, he’d kill her if Alec got too close.
They left the tower house, and the raider dragged her down the stairs to the barmkin. The fog had crept in even further, milky tendrils snaking over the castle walls.
The scrape of weapons being drawn, and muttered curses, followed, as the guards posted on the walls spied the skull-faced raider and his captive moving across the cobbled space toward the steps.
And all the while, Alec stalked his quarry. “Mind him,” he called to his men. “The bastard’s mine.”
“I’ll kill her,” the raider shouted, his voice hoarse with pain now. Liza noted the trail of blood that gleamed in the torchlight upon the cobbles. “Don’t test me!”
“Aye … and then I’ll end ye ,” Alec growled back.
Liza’s blood roared in her ears as the raider mounted the stairs and pulled her after him. Where was he going? Did he intend to throw her from the walls?
Reaching the top of the steps, the raider made his way, purposefully despite his heavy limp, along the eastern wall.
Liza’s skin prickled then, realizing that the man knew exactly where he was going. He had an escape planned. His eagerness betrayed him though, for as he dragged her along the wall, toward where the shadows deepened upon the northern ramparts, he slackened the pressure of his blade on her throat.
She seized her chance.
Stepping back into him, Liza stomped her heel, hard, down onto his foot before driving her elbow into him, just below his ribs as Makenna had taught her. She heard his breath whoosh out of him, and his grip on her loosened for an instant.
She twisted away and kicked him viciously in the leg—the one she’d stabbed twice.
The raider hissed a curse, his knee buckling, while Liza rolled away.
Things moved swiftly after that.
Wheezing further curses, the raider clawed himself upright and lunged for the shadows, while Alec leaped over where Liza lay, following him.
She pushed herself up, squinting as she watched the raider lower himself over the wall. She jolted then. Hades, he had a rope.
Alec reached the battlement a heartbeat too late, but he didn’t try and follow the raider. Instead, his dirk glinted as he slashed at the rope. It frayed and then snapped, unraveling like a whip while Alec leaped back to avoid being lashed by it.
A startled cry echoed through the mist below.
Alec whirled around, his gaze spearing the guards by the gate. “Find the whoreson!” His warriors moved to obey, unbarring the gate and opening it so four of them could slip out.
Meanwhile, Alec strode to where Liza had risen to her feet and was shakily dusting off her skirts. “Did he harm ye?” he asked huskily, his gaze roaming her face.
Earlier, when he’d been dealing with the raider and Tamhas, his face had been a cold mask, but now concern tightened his features.
Liza shook her head. The two blows the man had dealt her no longer hurt. Instead, rage smoldered in her belly. “I recognized that bastard’s voice,” she ground out.
“Aye,” Alec replied, his voice hardening. His eyes glinted then. “It was Ross Macbeth.”
They couldn’t find Macbeth’s body. Somehow, he’d survived the fall from the eastern walls. The guards returned to the castle a while later, with news that they’d followed a trail of blood down to the shore, where it ended.
The raider had gotten away.
And one of the other guards was missing. Beathan. He was an older warrior, one of those who’d served Leod. According to Alec, he’d been posted near the southeast tower that night.
He’d obviously been the one to tie the rope around the battlement so that the Ghost Raiders could climb up—and when he’d seen Alec rush inside the tower house, he’d likely panicked and used the rope to escape while he could.
Liza’s stomach clenched as she received this news, even as Alec growled a curse. Meanwhile, Rae, Kylie, and Makenna—who’d all been called into the laird’s solar—looked on. Rae and Makenna had just returned from the village and had been about to go to bed when they heard what had happened.
“Ride to Duart Castle at first light,” Liza informed the guards who’d brought the news. “Inform Loch that Ross Macbeth is one of the Ghost Raiders … and that my husband was in league with him.”
This admission brought a murmured oath from Kylie, and Liza nodded, her lips compressing. “Macbeth gloated about it when I took him down to the cellar.” She paused then, pulling the woolen wrap she’d donned tighter around her shoulders. After her ordeal, she felt trembly and cold. “Leod’s been storing the Ghost Raider’s loot in his strongroom … after taking some for himself. As ye can imagine, his death caused a problem for Macbeth and his raiders. Luckily for them, they had allies inside the castle … both Beathan and Tamhas.”
Indeed, the lanky figure she’d spied disappearing into the undergrowth after meeting with Macbeth the day before was probably Tamhas.
Rae gave his head a disbelieving shake at this. “Yer husband was a chieftain, already a wealthy man … I don’t understand why he’d make an arrangement with criminals.”
“Neither do I,” she admitted. “Although after Loch spared Bran Mackinnon’s life at Dounarwyse, he grew embittered, secretive.”
“Aye, this was a revenge of sorts,” Alec said with a nod.
“It could have been,” she murmured, holding his eye across the chamber.
Ever since Macbeth’s escape, Alec’s gaze had barely left her. She’d told him she was well, had insisted the raiders hadn’t injured her; however, he didn’t seem convinced.
Liza pushed herself off the window seat, where she’d been perching, and rose to her feet. She then cut her attention back to the guards. “That is all for now.”
They both nodded. “Aye, Lady Maclean.”
The guards departed, and she surveyed the faces of those remaining inside the solar. “Dawn is still an hour or two away,” she murmured. “Return to yer chambers … rest … and we shall talk later.”
Makenna gave a jaw-cracking yawn. “See ye in a few hours then.” With that, she looped her arm through Kylie’s and led her from the chamber. Rae followed at their heel. Rankin then pushed himself off the mantelpiece, where he’d been leaning, and headed toward the doorway as well.
“Alec,” Liza said softly before he reached it. “Stay … I’d like to talk to ye.”
He halted by the door, his brow furrowing.
“Close the door please.”
He did as bid before returning to his former position by the fire. Meanwhile, Liza pulled her woolen wrap even more firmly around her and perched on the edge of the large oaken table that dominated the solar, where she and her family broke their fast together every morning. “Ye saved Nettie’s life … I wanted to thank ye.”
He inclined his head. “How is the lass?”
“Sleeping, I believe … hopefully, she’ll be fine.”
“Ye were brave,” he said then, his gaze intense. “Macbeth had a knife to yer throat, but ye held yerself together.” Liza gave a soft snort at this, yet his gaze didn’t waver. “Ye are a formidable laird, Liza.”
Warmth washed over her. “Thank ye,” she replied after an awkward pause.
Their conversation had become uncomfortable now. She should really bid the man good night so they could both get some rest. Liza wouldn’t bother to retire though; instead, she’d remain by the fire here in the solar. Her mind was too full, her nerves still too frayed, to sleep.
Silence swelled between them once more, and she was about to dismiss her captain, when she marked the tension on his face, the way his eyes had shadowed. “What is it?”
He swallowed then, and she realized he was nervous.
“I thought Macbeth was going to kill ye tonight,” he admitted, his voice low and strained. “And that ye’d go to yer grave not knowing how I feel about ye.”
Liza’s heart kicked against her ribs, her mouth going dry. “Alec,” she whispered. “I don’t—”
“Please let me say this now,” he cut her off, “or I never will.”
She stared back at him. “What then?”
His chest hitched before he finally replied, “I’m in love with ye.”