A Highland Folly (25 page)

“You have given me no chance.” Coming to her feet, she picked up the buckets. “Come on, we need to get that fire out and find whoever's up there.”

He stood. “You know that whoever set those charges could be dead.”

“Don't say that!”

“You must be prepared to face the truth.”

“I will not stop until I have turned over every rock to be certain. I must help.”

“How? You cannot move all these rocks.”

With a pride that hid her terror, she raised her chin. “I will try. Dhùin Liath is my responsibility, and I will not sit cowering in Ardkinloch, wringing my hands and bemoaning the evil that has fallen upon us.”

A slow smile spread from his lips to his eyes. His hand brushed her cheek as he tilted her mouth under his. “Sweetheart, not a soul in Killiebige will doubt that you deserve to be the guardian of Dhùin Liath.”

She pressed to him, wanting the fire of his lips to heat her icy fear. Yet, even the eager caress of his mouth could not lessen her anxiety for Neilli and Parlan. Drawing away, she ran up the hill at the best pace she could manage. Her nightgown flapped against her legs, and she realized that her thin wrapper was unbound. What did it matter that she was dressed so scandalously? Her cousins might be caught in those flames.

Pippy barked at her heels. Stopping, she bent down. “Pippy, we have to find Neilli and Parlan.”

He cocked his head at her as if trying to puzzle out her words.

“Neilli. Parlan. Go get Neilli. Go get Parlan.”

The dog ran a few paces up the hill, then turned back to her, whining. She hurried to him, and he sat and looked up at her. With a sigh, she continued to climb.

Her hand was grasped, and she realized Lucais had gone past her. She had not seen him in the thickening smoke. He helped her up the steepest section of the brae. She handed him two of the buckets and transferred the third one to her other hand. She silenced her moan as its rope handle cut into her lacerated hand.

She faltered as she stared at what was left of the castle. The tower where she had taken Lucais was now smoking rubble, for the flames there were dying. Around the edges of what had been the inner courtyard, the ground was on fire.

Quick orders sent her household toward the well at the near corner of the courtyard. In moments, a line of buckets was throwing water onto the fires, dousing them section by section before any of the trees could catch on fire.

Anice drew her wrapper and nightgown close to her as she turned toward the fallen tower. Her arm was seized, and she was whirled back to face Lucais.

“I know what you are thinking,” he growled, “and it is madness.”

“If my cousins are in there, I must try to reach them.”

“If they are in there, they are dead.”

“Don't say that!”

“'Tis the truth!”

“Why have you chosen
now
to tell me the truth?” She ripped her arm away from him and ran toward the smoking embers.

Lucais followed, snarling a vicious oath under his breath. Anice had every right to be furious with him, but now was not the time to try to heal that wound. It would have to wait … if it was still possible to remedy it.

The heat left by the explosions oozed through his boots. Sweeping Anice up into his arms, he walked back to cooler ground.

“What are you doing?” she cried.

“Keeping you safe from your own foolishness.” He set her on the ground. “You shall burn your feet there.”

“But if Neilli and Parlan are—”

“Stay here. I will look for them.” He strode toward the rubble, then turned. He cursed as he saw no sign of Anice among the swirling smoke. Blast that stubborn woman! She might have grown up far from here, but she was as jobbernowl as any Scot.

He could not waste time looking for her. He walked back across the hot ground as if he were wading in a pool of hungry fish. Picking up a stick, he lit it from the fires still burning. He bent and peered among the rocks.

“Kinloch? Kinloch, are you in there?” Either of them would react to their surname if they were here … or if they could.

No answer came.

“Over there to the left is closer to where the tower was,” Anice said, startling him, for she stood close beside him.

“I told you that you could get hurt here.”

She pointed to the too-large boots she had pulled up under her gown. “I borrowed these.” Grasping the elbow of his arm that was holding the brand, she led him toward the left. “This pile of rubble is what remains of the lower section of the old tower.”

“Is there any chance they could have reached the hidden room beneath it?”

“I hope not.” She shuddered. “The rafters down there were already riddled with rot.”

Again he bent and held the torch close to the stones. “Kinloch? Are you in there?” He heard a groan.

Standing, he chased after Anice, who must have heard it as well. It came from beneath the trees on the uphill side of the ancient curtain wall. When she let out a shriek and raced forward to a man with upraised hands, he was shocked to see Potter. What was his assistant doing here?

Anice pulled a rock from Potter's hands and threw it aside before kneeling by a prone form on the ground. “Stay away!” she cried.

“You cannot tell me—” He choked as Lucais held up the torch to reveal that Parlan Kinloch was stretched out across the ground. “Mr. MacFarlane!”

“You cannot tell her what?” Lucais asked.

“She cannot believe that I was going to strike Mr. Kinloch with that rock. I had just pulled it off him.” He pointed to blood trickling down Kinloch's cheek. “That is where it must have hit him.”

“Or you hit him,” Anice said so softly that Lucais was unsure if she expected him to hear. She added nothing else as she tore a length off her nightgown and used it as a bandage around her cousin's head.

Lucais grasped her hand as she fumbled to tie the strip. Tipping it palm up, he saw the material wrapped around it. “You are hurt, Anice.”

“There is broken glass all over my bedchamber. I was cut by one shard.” She shivered, but her voice remained strong. “Can you tie this for me while I find some men to carry Parlan back to the manor house?”

As he nodded, she jumped to her feet and ran away into the smoke again. He tied the bandaging around Kinloch's head before slowly turning the man over. Scratches and welts were visible across his face, and scorch marks revealed the truth that he had been close to the explosions.

“Is he alive?” Potter asked.

“Yes.” Lucais stood as a trio of men appeared out of the smoke. Motioning for Potter to help them, he asked, “Where is Lady Kinloch?”

One man looked at him as if Lucais had lost any wits he might have possessed. “She is looking for Miss Kinloch.”

“Where?”

“Over there.”

Lucais wanted to ask another question, but the man grunted as he knelt and helped lift Kinloch for the slow trip down the hill. Walking in the opposite direction, he asked anyone he saw where Anice might be. No one seemed to know, but he was not surprised. With the dousing of the flames, the smoke was thicker and heavier, clinging close to the ground. He waved it aside, but more took its place. Coughing, he walked back toward what remained of the old tower.

Dawn was approaching, and he could see that the tower was not completely destroyed. One section remained standing and leaned back against the wall. It would have to be torn down if it did not fall soon. Taking a deep breath, he ran toward the opening in what once had been the great hall's wall. He did not doubt that Anice was here looking for her cousin.

“Be careful!” she called as he neared the hole.

“Come out of there.”

“In a minute.” She held up a shoe. “This is Neilli's. She must be here somewhere.” Patting her dog on the head, she said, “Pippy found it.”

“Lady Kinloch!”

At the shout, Lucais turned to see a round form lumbering toward them. He started to ask Potter what he was doing here, then realized it was not his assistant. Waving his hands, he ordered, “Stay back, Sir Busby. The tower is not stable.”

“Then get Lady Kinloch out of there!” Indignation bristled from every pudgy inch of the baronet.

“She is looking for Miss Kinloch.”

“In there?” With more agility than Lucais would have guessed Sir Busby was capable of, the baronet climbed over the rubble and into the remnants of the great hall. “You are damned lucky, MacFarlane. If the explosions had not come out in this direction, you and your crew would have been buried alive beneath an avalanche of rock.”

Anice shivered at Sir Busby's words. She had tried to ignore that, but the evidence was all around her. There had been no reason to set off gunpowder in this tower simply to destroy what was left of the old castle.

“Watch out for that hole in the floor,” she said as Sir Busby inched toward where she stood. “It opens deep into the cellars.”

“Lady Kinloch! Thank heavens, you are safe. I heard there are some folks believed to be up here.”

“I am looking for Neilli.”

“For Neilli?” His face lost its color so rapidly that she could see it blanch even in the dim light.

When Lucais held his torch higher, she frowned. It was burning down quickly. She gasped as the floor seemed to move beneath her feet. The crash of stone outside warned that the tower was ready to topple, taking the wall with it.

Lucais grabbed her hand. “We cannot stay here any longer.”

“But Neilli—”

“Getting yourself killed will not help her.”

She nodded, although she hated having to agree. She had hoped against every reasonable hope that she would be able to find Neilli as she had Parlan. Letting Lucais guide her around the hole, she looked back. Neither Pippy nor Sir Busby had moved.

Sir Busby knelt. “Oh, sweet heavens!”

Anice watched in disbelief as one of the shadows moved not more than a few feet from where she had been standing. Blond hair glistened dully in the light from the brand when Sir Busby gently drew Neilli out from beneath a table that had almost collapsed to the floor. That small space had been enough to save her from being crushed.

“Her foot is caught!” he shouted.

Taking the brand Lucais shoved into her hand, Anice watched as the two men began to lift pieces of broken rock away from where Neilli had not opened her eyes. The stones overhead creaked another warning, and she heard warnings called from outside. The tower walls shifted with a groan that sounded like a behemoth awaking.

Pippy raced out of the tower, then turned with a low bark. Anice did not move, although she was tempted to follow him.

“Pull gently!” Lucais said tightly, “but be quick. I don't know how long I can hold this up.”

The shadows moved, and Sir Busby shouted, “She is out.”

Anice rushed to where her cousin was lying. Her right foot was obviously broken, but, except for a few scrapes, she seemed unhurt.

Another shower of rocks cascaded down outside the tower. Lucais took Anice's hand. When she moaned, he did not release it as he ordered, “Get out of here. Now! Sir Busby—”

“Help Lady Kinloch,” he ordered as he lifted Neilli carefully. “I will bring Miss Kinloch.”

Looking back as she went with Lucais, Anice watched Sir Busby struggle to get to the opening. She stepped out onto the scree and, along with Lucais, turned to help guide Sir Busby out. They steered him toward the scorched grass beyond the courtyard.

Shouts rang in her ears but vanished as rock and mortar screamed in its death throes. Lucais pulled her to him as the ground shuddered and rocks dropped from the tower. They were knocked from their feet.

Wanting to remain in his arms, she crawled to where her cousin was lying. She smiled when she saw Neilli's eyes were open. Sir Busby's face could barely contain his smile as he carefully lifted Neilli again.

Anice blinked back tears of relief as Neilli slowly raised her arm and draped it over Sir Busby's thick shoulder. Lucais's arm went around her own waist, and he led her down the brae after Sir Busby. Pippy, strangely subdued, walked with them, staying close.

“You cannot doubt the truth now,” Lucais said softly. “Your cousins must have taken the gunpowder before the fire. Whatever they planned tonight went amiss.”

“I hope you are wrong,” she said, although she recalled the gray dust on Neilli's gown. Had that been gunpowder? No, she would not jump to conclusions. That gray dust might have been simply dirt from the new road, because it had littered Mr. Potter's clothes as well.

“The facts are clear.”

“I know, but I hope you
and the facts
are wrong.” She gasped when Sir Busby stumbled, but he kept his balance and did not drop Neilli. Putting her hand over her stomach that was knotted with fear and despair, she added, “You need not chide me for ignoring the truth. I can see the truth, but I want to be certain before I accuse them of such a horrible thing. Once I speak with them, I will share with you what they tell me.”

His voice was tight. “Do you believe they will tell the truth?”

“I hope they will.” She sighed.

Lucais brushed her tangled hair back from her face. “I'm sorry, Anice.”

“Sorry? For what?”

“That your cousin's care is going to be a further burden on you.”

“I am simply happy that they are alive.” She sighed. “Although you are right. I have come to depend on their help in tending to all the tasks around Ardkinloch.”

“You astonish me.”

“Why?”

He jumped down from a tall rock and held out his hand to assist her. “You shoulder every responsibility without complaint.”

“They are my family. Could I do any less?”

“Yes.” He held up his hand that was covered with dried blood. “Let me say that again. Others could do less, but I doubt if you can. You are so determined to have this family be the family you have longed for that you will do anything to keep it together.”