Chapter 34
Chapter 34
Lachann returned to the pier, where Count Leirvik and his men had gathered near their ship, no doubt wondering what had caused the explosion. Some of the villagers came forward to question Lachann, with Geordie Kincaid taking the lead.
“ ’Twas Cullen Macauley,” Lachann told them, “attempting to sabotage the cannon.”
“Did he set the fire, too, Lachann?” Kincaid asked.
Lachann nodded. “Aye. But this time, he managed to kill himself while spiking the cannon.”
“I can’na say I am sorry,” Kincaid said, and the rest of the people in the crowd muttered their agreement before heading back to their homes in the village.
“Who is Cullen Macauley?” Leirvik asked Lachann.
“ ’Tis a long story, Count. But ’tis late for telling tales. Shall we meet in the morn? There is much to be settled.”
The Norseman agreed.
Lachann knew Leirvik’s business was unfinished, and he hoped to prevent him from achieving what he’d come to do. They decided to meet with Anna in the great hall of the keep after a good night’s rest.
Lachann returned to the castle, intent upon finding Anna. Her uncle had made his intentions clear to her, but Lachann had said naught about his own. How could Anna make a choice when she did not know she had another option besides leaving? She could stay on Kilgorra.
As his wife.
He had only to determine whether her desire to leave the island was greater than what she might feel for him.
He stopped at the gate, thinking about the day he’d asked Fiona to go away with him. She’d shed a good many tears while telling him her duty was to her father, and that she could not go away with him. And she’d been steadfast in her decision.
The pit of his stomach began to burn.
He went down to the kitchen, and Flora told him Anna had gone out to the cottage with her friend, but that she would be back soon for their supper.
Lachann breathed a low curse. He’d hoped to have some time alone with Anna to make his proposal.
He wanted to talk to her before she saw Leirvik in the morn, so he hastened through the bailey and out toward the garden. But his blood ran cold when he heard her cries of distress.
Gesu. He was certain the cries were Anna’s, and they were coming from the blacksmith’s shop. “Stop, Mungo!” she screamed.
Lachann broke into a run. Neither the fire at the granary nor Macauley’s attempted sabotage unnerved him as did Anna’s cries. He arrived at the smithy shop in time to see Anna pounding on Ramsay’s back and trying to pull him away from a trough full of water.
“Stop!” she screamed, but Ramsay kept his arms submerged.
Lachann did not waste time on Catrìona, who stood in the shadows, watching. He went immediately to the blacksmith and shoved him away from the trough.
Anna gave out a cry and pulled a bag from the water. She put it on the stone floor, but Lachann had to move quickly to duck away from Ramsay’s massive fist. The man roared and struck again, missing Lachann’s jaw by a hair.
With the next blow, Lachann caught Ramsay’s fist in midair, then he slammed his body against Ramsay’s as he kicked his leg behind him. The maneuver knocked the blacksmith off balance, and the man went down hard. The fall knocked the wind out of him, and Lachann took advantage of the moment to shove Ramsay onto his belly.
He slammed his knee down on the man’s back and reached for a cord that was hanging on the wall near his head. But as he bound Ramsay’s wrists together, Catrìona screeched like a demon and fell upon him, scratching and biting, shrieking incoherently. Lachann quickly stood and faced her, grabbing her hands and pushing her against the wall of the shop.
“Catrìona!” He shook her to quiet her, then he turned to Anna, who was coaxing her cat from the bag. “Are you all right, Anna?”
Her face was covered with tears, but she nodded and spoke softly to the cat.
“Good God,” Lachann said to Catrìona. “Are you responsible for this? What is wrong with you, woman?”
She tried to claw him. “You interfering bastard! Let me go!”
“Not on your life.”
Anna had almost been too late, but she managed to revive Effie with some vigorous rubbing and no small amount of horror. Catrìona disgusted her, though it should not have surprised her that her stepsister would have had no qualms about harming an innocent creature.
She could almost excuse Mongo Ramsay, for he had never had a thought of his own and had always followed Catrìona’s orders. But she’d always hoped he knew right from wrong.
’Twas clear she’d been mistaken.
“Can I help, Lachann?” she asked. “What should I do?”
But Catrìona answered the question with a raw screech. “You should go straight to hell, Anna MacIver! Or drown on your way to that cursed island of yours like you were supposed to do years ago!”
Her face became a mask of pure hatred, more twisted than Anna had ever seen it. And Catrìona did not stop her abuse even after Lachann asked Anna for another piece of twine. She shouted her insults without taking a breath while Lachann wrapped her wrists together and tied her securely to the end of Mungo’s workbench.
When Catrìona and Mungo were both secured, Lachann crossed his arms over his chest and looked at them with distaste as well as disbelief. “Anna, go and find some of my men to help me here.”
Anna was reluctant to leave him alone with such fiends, but as she ran to the courtyard, some of the castle servants and Lachann’s men were already running toward Ramsay’s smithy shop. They’d heard Catrìona’s shrieks.
Cradling Effie to her chest, Anna watched as the men took Mungo to an empty building near his shop and locked him inside. Catrìona’s evil glances unnerved her nearly as much as the invectives she screamed while Mungo was taken away.
“Do’na look at her, Anna,” Flora said as she put her arm ’round Anna’s shoulders. “She is naught but a wicked shell of a lass.”
“Let’s take this one to that chapel she’s so fond of,” Lachann said to Malcolm, his kinsman.
Catrìona continued her tirade, denouncing Lachann and cursing Anna. Her screeches did not let up until they faded away in the distance.
“Come along, my dear,” Flora said, leading Anna to the keep. “We’ll dry our Effie and give her some milk to soothe her nerves.”
By the time Lachann returned from securing Catrìona in the little room at the back of the chapel, and Mungo Ramsay in a shed near the barracks, the keep was dark and quiet. Everyone had gone to bed. More than anything, Lachann wanted to find Anna, but he knew Flora had seen to her.
He did not know how Duncan fared.
He climbed the stairs to Duncan’s bedchamber and found him lying quietly on his side. Lachann could see that the back of his head was caked with dried blood.
“Lachann?”
“I’m sorry,” Lachann replied. “Did I wake you?”
“I’m not sure if I was dreaming, or just staring at the fire,” Duncan replied. “I’ve got a hellish headache.”
“What did he hit you with?”
“Damned if I know.” Duncan winced when he moved. “So, Macauley is dead.”
“Aye. Blew himself up.”
“I heard,” Duncan said. “All should be quiet now, eh? No more fires, no more sabotage attempts ...”
“One can hope.” Now that Catrìona and Mungo were locked up, the only threat Lachann needed to worry about was Birk Ramsay. And Lachann wasn’t about to let him cause any trouble.
“I’m all right, Lachann. You needn’t worry about me. Go on and get some sleep.”
“Aye. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He looked in on MacDuffie before going downstairs and found Alex tending him. “How does he fare, Alex?”
“A little better, I think.” Alex whispered his reply. “He just fell asleep. Laird ...”
“Aye?”
Alex led Lachann from the room. “What will ye do with the old man? Let him stay here?”
Lachann shook his head. “I haven’t thought that far ahead, Alex. I still have to figure out what to do with Catrìona and her lackey, Mungo Ramsay.”
The servant shuddered. “We can’na be rid of them soon enough to suit us, Laird. In case you wondered ...”
“Have you seen Anna?”
“She’s gone to the wee cottage with Kyla. To keep her safe from Birk.”
Lachann left the keep and went out to the cottage, though he doubted Anna would be awake. The small croft was quiet, and he saw very little light from the cracks in the shutters, so he let himself inside quietly.
Anna’s friend and her bairn were asleep on the bed, and Anna slept soundly on a low pallet by the fire, with her cat curled at her feet. Lachann secured the door and lay down beside her, drawing her into his arms.
She made a sweet sound at the back of her throat and curled into him. Lachann did not want to think of all the cruelties Anna had to have suffered at the hands of her stepsister over the years.
And then trying to harm Anna’s cat ... ’twas indefensible. The wee animal had done naught to Catrìona. But it had nearly met its death because Anna had shown a fondness for it.
Lachann was glad the cat had survived, and not just for Anna’s sake. ’Twas a gratifying failure on the part of Catrìona MacDuffie to inflict more harm on the stepsister she had wronged so grievously over the years.
It had been a long, drawn-out day, and at the end of it all, Lachann wanted only one thing. To ask Anna to stay.
But his question would wait until the morn.