Chapter Nineteen
They rode hard, all anxious to gain some distance from Gordon lands. Although the Queen had promised the transfer to the Forbes, it had not yet been accomplished and there was still danger of attack until they crossed the border.
After several hours, they slowed the horses and edged into a wooded area. The slackening of the movement roused Harper and, feeling Daimh holding her, the immediate panic from her ordeal was replaced by warmth.
Daimh jumped from his horse, aided Harper down, and then approached Rory, reaching up to ease Fenella down into his arms. He carried her into a hastily erected tent and laid her on her stomach on a makeshift cot, Rory hot on his heels, clucking words of comfort to the girl. Harper was tight behind them.
Wanly smiling at Rory, Fenella was very pale and clearly in pain.
Rory turned to Harper, his expression begging. “Help her.”
“I’ll need some clean linen and water to wash the wound, she said to Rory.” And raising her voice, “Does anyone have some whiskey?”
Harper pulled Fenella’s filthy dress away from the wound, and was relieved to see it wasn’t very deep. Rory pressed a flagon of whiskey into her hand and, since the arrow was lodged in her shoulder in the back, she had to lift Fenella’s upper body at an angle so she could drink. Taking a small sip, Fenella coughed, then groaned, but Harper coaxed her to take a few more draughts. Then, she helped the girl settle back while she soaked a cloth with the liquor.
“This will hurt, but briefly,” Harper warned her.
Rory took the girl’s hand. “I am here, lass. Just squeeze me hand when ye feel pain.”
Harper suppressed a grin at the sweetness of Rory’s gesture. Already besotted, she thought.
The color drained from the visible side of Fenella’s face as Harper poured a bit of whiskey around the shaft of the arrow, but the girl did not cry out.
Harper took hold of the arrow at the base and carefully wiggled the head free. A glance at the clasped hands of Fenella and Rory, their knuckles white, confirmed the pain, but again, the girl did not even whimper.
Tears burned behind Harper’s eyes, understanding that Fenella had suffered so much pain in her short life, this was probably nothing compared to what had left her swollen and bruised. She was glad Alex could no longer hurt his young wife.
There wasn’t much bleeding; a bandage should suffice. When they returned to the castle, Freya could stitch it if necessary. Harper was no seamstress and hesitated to give the girl more discomfort.
Another few sips of whiskey and Fenella settled back, Rory at her side, and slept. Relieved that the danger was past, Harper slipped from the tent in search of Daimh.
Finding him in front of the fire in deep conversation with Ian, she hesitated to interrupt, but the need to feel him and have him reassure her was overwhelming. As she approached, Ian smiled at her and stepped away to give them privacy.
Daimh led her over to a fallen tree trunk and they sat, facing each other and holding hands.
“Tell me all,” he coaxed.
Shaking her head, she sniffed. “All my fault. All my stupidity.”
“Ye said as much before. What happened?”
He deserved to know. “Iona came to my bedchamber about midnight. I thought it was you, so I let her in. Then she said she had come to protect me. That you were her husband and Thomas your son.”
Daimh’s mouth dropped open in disbelief and hurt. “And ye believed her?”
“Not really. But I knew she was up to something, and she said she had proof and that I should follow her to the cottage. When she said that, I feared for Thomas’s safety. I knew she wanted you and I also know the lengths some will go to get what they want.”
Daimh digested this and nodded.
“I thank ye for worrying about the lad. That speaks of yer love for him.” He pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed it softly.
“Then what?” he encouraged her.
“Once outside the castle, I was hit from behind. And woke up in the cell. After Fenella hit Alex, her husband—her very abusive husband—she led us out of the dungeon into the woods. And you know the rest.”
“Aye. And what of Iona?” His eyes narrowed, his feeling about the other woman clear.
“Gone, according to Fenella. She ran off, afraid they would kill her.”
“If they don’t, I might,” he said under his breath. “I am just so grateful ye are safe. And I hae no doubt the Forbes will make the Gordons regret their actions.”
Ian stepped up to them and grinned. “I think I need to remind ye that the lass probably hasn’t had a decent meal for a while, and I’ll bet she could use a good rest. Me wife will hae me head if I bring her back in less than good shape.”
Daimh jumped up as if he’d been burned. “Forgive me, my lady. Of course. Let’s get you some food. And ye can sleep on me horse all the way back. I promise ye will not fall off.”
***
As Harper entered the hall, Skye let out a very unladylike whoop and ran to her, squeezing her so hard Harper thought her sore ribs might crack. At her wince, Skye jumped back, horrified.
“Did I hurt ye. Forgive me. We were sick with worry. I’m just so glad ye’re here. What did those boidheaches do to ye? Was it Iona? Did she betray ye to them and cause this? Come, ye must tell me all. But first, let’s get ye a bath and some clean clothes. Ye smell like ye’ve been in a dungeon—I should know.” This last was whispered. Then, as if just noticing Fenella leaning against Rory, she raised her eyebrows. “Who is that?”
“She saved my life. I will tell you everything, but a bath sounds wonderful. And are there any meat pies?”
Skye grabbed Harper’s hand and led her to the stairs, asking that a bath be brought for Harper and for one to be put in the guest chamber for Fenella. “And some clean clothes for the lass.”
Harper gratefully sank into the warm water and her muscles let go of some of the tension she’d been holding for days, Harper recounted the tale. As she spoke, Skye paced the room, going from one end to the other.
“I should have come to you or Ian, but it was late, and I was so stupid. I guess I was so afraid of something going wrong…”
“You weren’t stupid. You were just going on past experiences. I probably would have done the same thing. And insofar as Iona is concerned, I knew it. I knew that witch was capable of evil. I could sense it. But I had no idea she would go so far.” She stepped over to Harper. “I am just so grateful you are here.”
Harper grinned. “Me, too.”
“Now promise you will just ask someone next time. No, wait, we have to make sure there never is a next time.” Skye nodded her affirmation to herself. “Well,” she continued, trepidation pulling at her brow. “If you’ve had enough sixteenth century adventure, I’m hoping it hasn’t changed your mind about staying.”
“On the contrary. When I saw Daimh on the edge of that wood and he reached down to pull me up on his horse… I have never been so happy to see anyone in my life. And between that and my dearest friend being here, I cannot imagine going back to my dull life.” She giggled. “Although I would be very happy to have no more such adventures. And maybe some Chapstick.”
Skye ignored the joke and resumed pacing. “We must find Iona. She must be dealt with.”
“Where I was taken is a long way away from here. Fenella said she overheard that Iona ran, but I don’t have any idea where she could go. I am certain she wouldn’t be welcomed here, and the Gordons have no more use for her.”
“Aye, but I have no doubt she will find a way to survive and even find her way back here at some point. She might believe her mother will take her in.”
“Would she? After what Iona has done?” Harper asked.
“A mother’s love is not conditional. If nothing else, Eilidh might try and find a way to conceal Iona or help her find somewhere to go.” Skye quieted in thought. “I shall ask Ian to speak to her. Putting you at risk as she did is certainly grounds for banishment or worse and Eilidh needs to understand that. And if she offers aid to her daughter, she will be guilty as well.”
“I hope Iona doesn’t put her mother in that position. Eilidh is a kind woman who does not deserve it.”
“I agree. But Iona is not to be trusted. You of all people know that.” Skye threw her arms in the air, palms out. “On a happier note, I believe we were planning a wedding before you were taken.”
Harper grinned, joy filling her heart. “Yes. We were. Does it matter we missed Hogmanay?” She was sad that her capture had doused the festivities.
“Of course not. The celebration was merely postponed. And I will speak to—”
Neasa tapped on the chamber door and entered, a smile lighting her features and making her look years younger and prettier. She swept a bow to Harper, still languishing in the tub.
Harper broke out in a laugh. “I think the need for formality can be swept aside since I am not exactly in appropriate attire to receive company.”
Now they all three laughed.
“We were talking about the wedding,” Skye said.
“So many since ye arrived,” she said to Skye. “Ye clearly brought so much love with ye.”
“What a kind thing to say,” Skye responded.
“But true,” Harper agreed. “Skye is one of those people who makes life better.”
Skye’s cheeks reddened with her blush of pleasure. “You are both too kind. Now, the wedding.”
“Aye,” Neasa said. “We can make the preparations quickly, since we had already begun before…” She was clearly reluctant to mention what had transpired. There was no need to mention the ordeal further. “But it got me to thinking and I’d like talk to ye both aboot something.” Her tone was so serious, Harper knew Skye was as concerned as she was.
Seeing their faces, Neasa smiled. “Oh, nay. Naught bad. Just an idea I’ve been toying with.”
“And…” Skye encouraged.
“I’ve been thinking about Davina. Especially after Harper disappeared. And I hae a thought.”
Both women looked at Neasa in question.
“I would like to… see her.”
“See her?” Harper asked, confused. “But she is in the twenty-first century.”
“I ken. I hae thought about some of the things ye both told me, and I would like to see that as well. For meself. And I could make certain Davina causes no more mischief.”
“And how would ye do that?” Skye asked.
“I would say I was kin, which I am, and she has lost her mind. That would reassure no one would believe aught she says.”
“She’s in a coma and will probably stay that way,” Harper said.
“I ken. But to see some of what ye described about things in the future. I would nae stay long. Just a few days. Ye both could teach me what I need to know and then I would come right back.”
Neither Harper nor Skye spoke for a few minutes. Harper was imagining all the differences in life between then and now. It would be almost overwhelming.
“I do nae even ken if the cloak would work,” Skye said. “And if it did, there’s no guarantee ye could return. And if something were to happen and—well, I’d never forgive meself.”
“Would ye be willing to let me try?” Neasa asked, the hope in her tone obvious.
“Would you wait until after the wedding? It shouldn’t be too long until Daimh and I can wed and then…”
“And then you would be convinced you would never go back, so you’d have no need of the cloak,” Skye said to Harper.
“Yes,” Harper affirmed. The wedding to Daimh would make certain she never went back. She would be here, at Eilean Donan with Daimh and Skye… forever. Yes!
“Cloak?” asked Neasa.