Chapter 18
Chapter 18
Lachann felt the coarse bark of the massive elm tree at his back and the warm length of Catrìona’s body against his. What he desired ought to have been completely clear. And yet he was unmoved.
Catrìona slipped her fingers into his belt, and Lachann had the distinct impression she would actually disrobe him where he stood. There might have been a time when he’d enjoyed this kind of seduction, but that time was not now.
“Mmm. We have no braw warriors on Kilgorra like you, Lachann.”
He caught her hand before she reached vulnerable territory. “Catrìona—”
Something hit Lachann on the head, and he looked up. A quiet giggle came from somewhere within the higher branches of the elm. Catrìona let out a squeal and jerked away from Lachann as more pelting occurred. ’Twas small twigs that were hitting them.
“Is that you, Angus MacLaren?” she hissed. “And Robbie Kincaid! Get down here!”
The giggles turned into chuckles, and then childish cackles. And suddenly, a small body came crashing down and would have hit the ground had Lachann not managed to catch the lad.
But as soon as he put him on his feet, Catrìona scooped up a stout branch and gave the lad a nasty clout on the backs of his legs. Then she took hold of his ear and started pulling him back to the keep, forgetting Lachann altogether. “You are a nasty wee devil, Angus! Your father shall hear of your skulking about where you do not belong!”
Aye, the lad was in trouble for being where he should not.
Lachann had the uneasy sense that he did not belong there, either.
On her way back to the keep from Gudrun’s cottage, Anna nearly collided with Catrìona, who was rushing forward. She held a bellowing Angus MacLaren by the ear and used a stick to herd a worried-looking Robbie Kincaid at her side. Lachann MacMillan followed behind at a more leisurely pace.
They were coming from the direction of the chapel, Catrìona’s favorite trysting place. ’Twas isolated and romantic, with the ruins of the beautiful old chapel and the thickest, bonniest elm tree Anna had ever seen. All the servants knew better than to venture to the spot when Catrìona was on the prowl.
Anna just hated the thought of what Catrìona had been doing with Lachann in the old churchyard. And yet here were Angus and Robbie, and Catrìona was clearly livid. Anna could not imagine what horrible transgression the lads had committed.
“Hie yourselves to the blacksmith and wait for me there.”
“Ach, no, m’lady!” Angus cried.
“We were havin’ naught but a bit o’ fun!” Robbie wailed.
Lachann’s deep voice cut through the lads’ terrified clamoring. “Catrìona.” Suddenly, all was quiet. “Release them.”
Catrìona hesitated for an instant, but then she let go of Angus’s ear and slowly turned to face Lachann. In the short space of time it took for her to turn, she composed herself, wiping away the vindictive expression everyone at the castle knew so well. Particularly Anna.
“Lads, go home,” Lachann said. “And play no more pranks. I would take it amiss if you hurt yourselves, as Davy MacDonall did today.”
The two ran off as quickly as their legs would carry them, and Catrìona shot a malevolent glance at Anna before sliding her hand into the crook of Lachann’s elbow. Anna’s chest burned at the sight of the two of them together.
Ach, she was being worse than an idiot. She’d known better than to dream of an escape from Kilgorra. At least with Lachann MacMillan.
“ ’Tis about time you returned, Anna MacIver,” Catrìona said in a tone of feigned affability. “Flora has need of you in the kitchen.”
“I’m sure she does,” Anna replied without looking up at Lachann. She just couldn’t, not while he was in the midst of courting Catrìona. She did not want to think of how many trips to the chapel he’d already made with her while she’d been away on Spirit Isle. “I’m on my way there now.”
“You have time to make up for, Anna,” Catrìona said as Anna started to move past them.
“Aye. And I will.”
Anna scurried down to Flora’s domain, and when the older woman saw her, she said, “What’s happened to ye, lass? Yer face is as red as a brined herring!”
“Naught,” Anna retorted. She took an apron and tied it about her waist. “What chores are left to do? Shall I knead the dough for you?”
Flora was in the midst of preparing dough for their bread on the morrow, but she shook her head. Anna looked ’round to the other maids and saw Nighean scrubbing the pots Flora had used for cooking, and Meg, who had finished putting the oats in a pot to soak for the morning porridge. Red-haired Glenna was sweeping the floor.
“We’re managing here, lass,” Flora said. “The laird was’na feeling well, and Alex just came down from helpin’ him into bed. Catrìona has gone walkin’ with MacMillan.”
Anna nodded, desperately looking for something to do—something to occupy her hands and her mind. “Aye. I saw them. They are just outside.”
“Ah.” Flora looked at her curiously.
“What?”
“Naught,” Flora said in an odd tone, nodding toward a low shelf at the back of the kitchen. “Ye might gather those empty whiskey bottles and take them out to Graeme’s cart to be carried back to the distillery.”
Anna frowned. “There are so many. Far more than what the laird usually drinks.”
“Aye. Ever since that arse Macauley brought him the specially aged draught from the distillery, he’s been drinkin’ more.”
“ ’Tis not good for him.”
“Nay, but I would’na know how to discourage him from it.”
Neither would Anna.
But she was glad to have something to do. She’d managed to shove all the crates to the walls in Gudrun’s cottage, clearing a large space for her morning lesson with Lachann. She put the empty whiskey bottles into a burlap sack and carried them outside. Effie caught up to her, missing her, no doubt, after two days away. “Aye, you’ll get your platter of milk on the morrow, my wee friend.”
The sky was full of stars to light her way, but Anna knew the path so well she could have found her way to the stable even if it had been pitch dark. Even with Effie trying to wrap herself ’round Anna’s legs as she walked.
Anna was just grateful she would not have to encounter Lachann and Catrìona again tonight.
Once Catrìona was occupied with her husband and children ... Surely the woman would have more important things to do after her marriage than to harass Anna every time their paths crossed.
And Lachann would have no time for lazy conversations on the island’s pathways.
Anna ignored the burning in the pit of her stomach at the thought of Catrìona bearing Lachann MacMillan’s children. Of having to wait upon the two of them, mayhap preparing Catrìona in her bedchamber as she awaited her husband.
She dreaded seeing the disgust in Lachann’s eyes when he learned what kind of woman he’d married, and knowing that anyone on the isle could have informed him before he’d become shackled to her.
“Herregud.” Anna pinched her lips together at the injustice of it all, then remembered her resolution never to belong to any man.
Mayhap she could get the Saoibhreas to take her and Kyla to the northern coast. And from there, they could figure a way to get to Norway and her mother’s people.
She wondered if Lachann had made his proposal to Catrìona tonight. He must know that Cullen Macauley had his own plans and purpose here. And it was not merely to seduce the serving maids.
Macauley wanted to be laird, too.