Chapter 12
Chapter 12
Anna did not know what she could possibly have been thinking, yattering at Lachann MacMillan in the great hall and again in Flora’s kitchen. Her mind had been full of thoughts of him when he’d come upon her so quietly in the hall, and she hoped she’d adequately covered her inappropriate musings by speaking of Kyla.
And then she’d given special attention to his porridge. Her behavior had been perilously close to flirtatious.
Never before had she done such a thing, and she had no intention of repeating it. Lachann MacMillan had naught to do with her, and the sooner he married Catrìona, the better ’twould be.
She hurried down to the pier with her basket of provisions, enough to last for several days on the isle. Kyla would be safe there for as long as Anna could keep her there. Birk would not dare come for her, as he might do at the castle. He was terrified of the sluagh dubh, and Anna knew Kyla had never corrected his misconception about the wicked spirit.
She heard children’s voices as she headed back up toward the castle. Among the trees at the beginning of the path, she discovered Angus MacLaren battling his young cohort, Robbie Kincaid, using wooden swords. The young castle maid, Glenna, looked on in awe of their prowess, adding to each lad’s bravado.
Anna laughed. “Shouldn’t you be up at the castle by now, Angus?”
“We’re goin’, Anna!” Angus shouted with a dramatic flourish of his weapon. “But first, I must defeat my enemy and run him through!”
“Ah! I thought Robbie Kincaid was your friend!”
“Nay!” Angus growled. “He is a pirate from Lewis who’s come to steal our whiskey!”
Glenna frowned. “I thought ye were fightin’ fer my honor, Angus MacLaren!”
Angus lowered his sword and turned to gape at Glenna. “Yer what?”
Robbie took advantage of the moment and slid his own sword between Angus’s arm and chest, “killing” him. “Ye know better than t’ turn yer back on yer enemy, Angus!”
“What am I doing here?” Macauley’s tone was flippant. “Same as you, I imagine, MacMillan.”
“Aye?” Lachann stood and faced his rival, but he forced himself to relax. “Looking for yet another wife? Did you think this time you wouldn’t have to steal her?”
Macauley bristled. “Fiona MacDonald came to me willingly—”
“What happened to her, Macauley?” Lachann growled.
Macauley put his hands on his hips and spoke in an offhanded manner. “She sickened and died.” There wasn’t a trace of sorrow or regret on his face.
Gesu,but he was callous. “Died of what?”
“She was my wife, MacMillan,” he said, “and a private matter. So ’tis not your concern.”
Lachann’s dirk was strapped to his calf. At this distance he could draw it and throw it, skewering Macauley where he stood. And yet the heat of emotion no longer drove him.
He started to leave, but stopped dead still at Macauley’s next words. “ ’Tis said the MacMillans have become the wealthiest clan in the northwest.”
Lachann turned to face him. “So now the Macauleys have taken to listening to rumors?”
“Only the important ones.”
’Twas disturbing to know that his family’s enemy had been keeping track of MacMillan fortunes. That knowledge reinforced Lachann’s suspicion that Cullen had learned of his plans to wed Catrìona and take control of the island.
And that was the reason the bastard had come.
“Here is an important one, and not a rumor, either,” Lachann said as he walked back to stand two paces from Macauley. “If you interfere with my plans here, I will kill you.”
Macauley’s insouciant expression faded slightly at the threat, but he said naught as Lachann took his leave and headed for the stable. While he meant what he said, Lachann wasn’t one to waste time with useless talk, and the encounter with Macauley had not only been useless, it had left Lachann with a sour taste.
He had much to accomplish, and he assumed Duncan and Kieran had already left the castle for the southern coast. Deciding ’twas time he followed his own orders and visited the farms in the highlands south of the village, he started for the stable but stopped when he saw Anna and her injured friend slowly making their way toward the castle gate.
Anna had washed her face clean, and she carried her friend’s bairn in her arms, along with a heavy satchel slung over her shoulder. The friend appeared none too steady on her bare feet, but Anna led the way, step by step. Mayhap she was taking the lass home.
Which might well be disastrous.
Lachann did not—could not—allow his misgivings to sidetrack him. Besides, he was in a foul mood and did not care to impose it upon anyone. He needed a great deal more information about the isle before firming up his plans and speaking to Laird MacDuffie about what he intended to do.
“Can you make it down the hill, Kyla?” Anna asked her friend. All she wanted was to get Kyla to Spirit Isle. There, she and Douglas could stay for a couple of days and not have to worry about Birk.
And mayhap when they were finally over there, Anna could stop ruminating on Lachann MacMillan and the shivery sensations he elicited with his touch. Or the welling in her chest when she recalled how close his lips had come to touching hers.
She needed to remember he was going to be her laird, and nothing more.
“Aye, I can walk,” Kyla replied. “Birk didn’t cripple me.”
“No, thank the Lord.”
“But I should go home.”
“No. Not yet.” They both knew Birk would not be sober for a few days, and he was a danger to Kyla while he was drunk.
’Twas clear that something had to be done about him, but to date, his father had been able to do naught, and pleas for assistance from the laird had gone unanswered. Laird MacDuffie had taken to sleeping at all hours of the day and leaving the management of his household to his daughter. He took no interest in the affairs of the village, and there was no other Kilgorra man who would intervene. They all believed ’twas up to a husband to discipline his wife however he saw fit.
Anna feared Birk would kill Kyla one day, for his outbursts of temper seemed to grow worse by the month. One day, he would knock her down a flight of stairs or into the sea....
There had to be something Anna could do. She just had not thought of it yet. “The birlinns will be out already.” Though Birk was not likely to be among the fishermen. “We ought to be able to get to the isle without anyone knowing we’re gone.”
“Anna ...”
“I wish you would not argue with me about leaving.”
“I fear ’twill only make Birk angrier if he cannot find me for days.”
Anna swallowed hard. This was why she would never marry. She knew of no man she would ever trust to have such power over her—power to beat her whenever he felt the urge. The power to dictate where she would go and with whom. The very thought of being trapped the way Kyla was made her shudder.
But then there was the sweet bairn in her arms—and Anna would never have a child of her own. It caused an ache that she quickly tamped away.
“You must decide, then,” Anna said, frustrated with her friend. “Come to the isle with me, or go home to Birk.”
“Anna, one day someone is going to figure out that there’s more to Spirit Island than they ever thought.”
“Even if they did, do you really think they would risk an encounter with the sluagh dubh to find out?” Anna asked, confident that the long-standing tales of the horrible, restless spirit would keep every Kilgorran away.
Years ago, one of the Kincaids had gone to the isle and something had happened to him. He’d come back a beaten-up wreck, blathering about a malevolent spirit that had tormented him within an inch of his life. Anna suspected the man had always been a wee bit cracked in the head, for there was no horrible spirit on the island.
Or perhaps someone had pulled a prank on him.
Nevertheless, the superstitious islanders believed Anna and Kyla had learned how to placate the imaginary wraith and keep it from coming to the main isle, so they were never discouraged from going there.
“If you want to go home, I’ll walk you up to your cottage,” Anna said, though it hurt to say it. “Mayhap Birk will be contrite when next he sees you. He usually is.”
As they walked through the castle bailey, they heard Mungo’s hammer in the blacksmith’s shop, so they circled ’round behind the building and left through the castle gate.
“I do not like the way Mungo watches me with Douglas,” Kyla said once they’d reached the path. “ ’Tis as though ...” She shook her head.
“What?”
“Sometimes I think he would take Douglas from me. Mayhap harm him.”
Anna did not know everything Mungo was capable of, but she did not think he would have any interest in a bairn—even if ’twas his nephew’s child. He was far more interested in watching Catrìona and doing her bidding, even when she ordered him to discipline the castle children.
She shuddered at the thought of it. “Come on. Let’s get as far away as possible.”
They’d walked less than halfway down to the pier when a single horse approached from the castle. Anna knew who it would be. Her heart gave a little trill of anticipation in her chest, but when she looked up, Lachann MacMillan merely slowed his horse slightly when he reached them.
Lachann was sorely tempted to stop and offer his assistance to Anna and her friend, but he heard Duncan’s voice in his head quite clearly, reminding him that the lass was a servant in the house he would soon rule. Her problems were not his, and if he made them so, he could very well alienate Laird MacDuffie and his daughter.
In spite of Duncan’s admonitions, Lachann stopped and dismounted.
“I’ll take that for you.” He took the satchel from Anna’s shoulder and put his arm ’round Kyla’s waist to assist her down the path.
Duncan and his advice could go hang. ’Twas not in Lachann’s nature to let a woman in this condition struggle on without assistance. He would have lifted her onto his horse, but he feared hurting her even more.
“Where are you going?” he asked Anna. “Shouldn’t you stay where—”
“Just down to the pier. Kyla will be safe.”
“On a boat?”
Anna hesitated before answering. “No. I’ll take her to our island.”