Chapter 18
The Imperfect Rescue
The knot gave as the sky began to lighten behind the curtains.
Diana freed her left hand and kept the arm hidden behind the chair back. Outside, the guard's worn sole scraped the floorboards on every pass.
In the yard, men were making the light vehicle ready. She heard straps, hooves, and Malcolm demanding haste.
She freed the other hand, put the hook up her sleeve, and worked the cord off her ankles. Her legs prickled, and the cut palm beat under the dirty binding. Among the few objects in the room, she chose a bottle half full.
She struck the glass against the corner of the hearth.
The guard opened the door before the fragments had finished falling.
Diana was sitting again, wrists behind the chair back.
"What did you do?"
"I knocked the bottle over."
He came in and looked at the floor.
"With your feet?"
"I had a creative childhood."
The man bent to pick up the largest piece. Diana stood, put the cord over his neck, and pulled with all her weight.
His boot slipped in the liquid, and his knee hit the boards. When the body went soft, she let the loop go.
"Your breathing announces your arrival."
She took the key, the knife, and the coat. She tied his wrists and ankles to the chair and gagged him. He woke in time to hear her.
"If you manage to free yourself, avoid the glass."
Diana went out and locked the door.
The corridor was empty. Below, two voices argued near the entrance. Malcolm had sent some of the men to the wood and others after Penelope. Few were left in the house.
Diana went down by the back stairs, crossed the kitchen without waking the woman asleep by the pantry, and reached the covered area in front of the yard.
The light vehicle waited near the gate. Two men were seeing to the horses, and a third animal stood saddled by the stable.
Diana put on the guard's coat, turned the collar up, and crossed the yard with her head down. The loose cloth hid the gown. She reached the saddled horse.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Malcolm was standing in the stable door.
Diana took hold of the reins.
"Away from your hospitality."
He looked at the coat, then at the window of the room where she was supposed to be.
"Harrow?"
"Resting."
Malcolm drew his pistol.
The men in the yard turned. Diana kept the horse between them.
"If you fire, you will frighten the animals."
"Stand back."
"The south road is watched."
Malcolm hesitated. The lie had confirmed that he still did not know where the MacLeods were.
"Alistair found the carriage," she went on. "He will find this house."
"My men will receive him in the wood."
"The ones you kept do not appear sufficient."
One of the guards came at her from the left. Diana pulled on the saddle and put the horse in his way. The animal backed sharply and caught the man with its hindquarters.
Malcolm raised the pistol.
"Enough."
Diana saw the decision in his face before the barrel steadied. He did not intend to kill her. A wound in the leg would be enough to end the escape.
She threw the knife she had taken from the guard.
The blade did not reach Malcolm. It went into the wood beside his shoulder. The shot came in the same instant. The ball went through Diana's coat and into the wall behind her.
The horses broke. One tore the rope that held it to the vehicle. The man at the wheels tried to hold it and was dragged across the yard.
Diana put her foot in the stirrup.
Malcolm reached her before she mounted.
His hand closed in her hair and pulled her back. Diana fell against his chest, lost the reins, and struck at the armed hand. The pistol hit the ground.
"This time," Malcolm said at her ear, "you will travel unconscious."
Diana caught his shin with the toe of her boot.
The pressure on her hair increased. She drove her elbow back and found his ribs. Malcolm swore and did not let her go.
Hooves struck on the other side of the gate.
A shout came from the wood.
Malcolm turned his face.
Diana bit the hand holding her.
He shoved her against the vehicle. The wooden side caught her shoulder and the air went out of her. By the time she could turn, Malcolm was picking up the pistol.
The gate came open hard.
Graeme came through first, low over the horse. Eliza was behind him, then Dugald and two clansmen. Alistair came in along the side of the yard with the short sword in his hand and blood darkening the léine at his ribs.
Diana forgot her own pain.
"Your wound."
"Later."
Alistair moved between her and Malcolm.
"Drop the pistol."
Malcolm pointed it at Diana.
"Take one more step."
Alistair stopped.
His face held a calm Diana already knew. Under it was something too dangerous to name.
"You've lost the map," Alistair said. "Penelope took your men, your money, and what little judgment you were still pretending to have."
"She will not reach the coast."
"And you won't leave this yard."
Malcolm smiled.
"You brought five men to a surrounded house."
A shot came from the wood.
Dugald dropped behind the wall. Graeme pulled Eliza in beside the stable while the two MacLeods found cover.
Malcolm's men were coming back.
The pistol went aside for a fraction of a second.
Alistair threw himself at him.
The shot went into the ground. Both men fell against the vehicle. Malcolm struck Alistair's wounded side, and Diana watched his body give.
She picked up the fallen pistol.
One of the guards ran at her. Diana aimed, and he kept coming.
Eliza came up behind him and hit his head with a shovel.
"I said a weapon would be useful."
"That was a shovel."
"It stayed useful."
Graeme put another man down by the gate. Dugald and the MacLeods answered the shots from the wood. The confusion opened a way along the side of the house.
Malcolm saw it before Alistair did.
He struck him in the face, pulled free, and ran to the horse that had torn its rope. Alistair tried to follow and put a hand to his ribs.
Diana reached him.
"No."
"He's getting away."
"And you're bleeding."
Malcolm mounted and went through the gap between the stable and the wall. Graeme raised the pistol, and two men crossed the line of the shot. By the time he could aim again, the horse was going in among the trees.
Alistair tried to push Diana's hand away.
"I can reach him."
"Not today."
"Diana."
"You came to stop him taking me again. You succeeded. Do not turn that into an attempt to die behind him."
The green eyes found hers.
For a few seconds the yard went on fighting around the two of them. Then Alistair let the sword go.
"Graeme," he called.
His cousin finished tying the man on the ground.
"Malcolm took the south track."
"Send two men after him at a distance. No engagement. We need to know where he goes."
Graeme nodded and passed the order on.
Diana opened Alistair's coat. The binding was soaked at the side, and the outer stitching had given at one point only.
"You need to lie down."
"You're hurt."
"My hand can wait."
"It can't."
Eliza came over, still holding the shovel.
"There's a clean room downstairs," she said. "The woman in the kitchen says Malcolm kept cloths and strong drink in a cupboard."
Diana looked at her sister.
"Are you well?"
"I'm wearing Graeme's coat, I rode all night, and I hit a man with a shovel. I've had worse mornings, but not many."
Graeme arrived in time to hear it.
"Give back the coat."
"It matches the shovel now."
Diana took Alistair inside.
She cleaned the wound, closed the open stitch, and made up the binding again. Then she washed her own hand; the cut was shallower than the blood had suggested. Eliza helped her wrap it.
By the time she finished, the sun was coming through the windows. Graeme and Dugald had secured the house, and two MacLeods were following Malcolm.
Diana slept a few hours in a room on the upper floor.
When she woke, she found bread, water, and a bowl of broth on the table beside the bed. The light at the window had lost the strength of midday.
Alistair was sitting in a chair near the hearth in a clean léine taken from the cupboards of the house. The pallor was still there, though he held himself upright to hide it.
"How long did I sleep?"
He looked up.
"Nearly five hours."
Diana propped herself on her elbows. The shoulder that had met the vehicle ached, and the cut palm beat inside the binding.
"And you?"
"Enough."
"How much?"
"Less than you."
"That is not a measure of time."
Alistair stood.
"The house is secure. Dugald has men on both roads. The prisoners are tied in the stable, and Graeme has been through the wood."
"Malcolm?"
"The men sent after him lost the trail near the south road. He changed horses."
Diana sat up slowly.
"Eliza?"
"Asleep in the next room. She refused to rest before she saw you breathing."
The answer released a tension Diana only then knew she had been carrying.
She reached for the water.
"Is Penelope still ahead?"
"Yes. The last messenger saw her take the coast road."
Alistair brought the bowl of broth and put it in her hands.
"Eat."
"Does this renewed authority mean your wound is better?"
"It means you haven't eaten since yesterday."
"That didn't answer."
"I learned it from you."
Diana took a few spoonfuls under his supervision. The broth was lukewarm and badly oversalted, and her body received it with gratitude.
When she pushed the bowl away, Alistair came to take it. The movement pulled the léine at his ribs and showed a small dark mark on the binding.
"You're bleeding."
"A little."
"Sit down."
"Diana—"
"You crossed half of Inverness, fought Malcolm, and tried to mount with the stitching open. Do not waste energy pretending to be surprised."
He took the edge of the bed.
Diana opened the léine and undid the binding. The remade stitch was still holding, but the skin was angry and a small bleeding had started at one end.
"It has not opened again," she said. "Yet."
"An encouraging assessment."
"It was a threat."
She cleaned the blood away and made up the dressing again. Alistair stayed quiet, watching her face.
"Your hand," he said.
"It is a shallow cut."
"You left blood in the carriage."
Diana finished the knot.
"I was trying to reach the catch."