Amanda Scott (46 page)

“An English family, I would remind you, and certainly that stale marriage was not enough to make up for wee Bessie’s death,
which, I would also remind you, occurred whilst she was in Angus’s custody, mayhap to assure that Molly became Dunsithe’s
sole heiress. Nor could anything have made up for losing Molly,” she added with a wistful, damp-eyed look that stirred Molly’s
quick sympathy.

Donald said sharply, “You said at the outset of this conversation that you had brought something for me. What is it, and where
is it?”

“Aye,” Lady Percy said. “That is to say, I bring word of—”

“So you have brought nothing but more words. Seize her, Colson.”

“No! Henry is sending the money you requested. Angus promised that I shall have it tomorrow!”

“Aye, and we all know how much we trust Angus,” he said sarcastically.

Lady Percy flushed. “Please, sir. Upon my honor, I will see that—”

“Your honor is worth no more than his,” he said. “Did you not tell me you suspect him of having stolen your daughter’s inheritance?”

“I
do
believe that,” she said forcefully. “What else could have happened to it? You did not see Dunsithe in those days, but the
night Angus came to take away my daughters, this hall was resplendent with silver and gold, fine furnishings, and colorful
banners. Every room boasted such things. And there was money, chests full of it. I never asked for anything that Gordon did
not provide—dresses and jewels. Oh, the jewels, sir! One would have to see them to believe their magnificence.”

Her eyes shone at the memory.

Glancing at Donald, Molly saw him frown. “Enough,” he said curtly. “When Angus left with your daughters, you were still here.
Do you expect me to believe he took so much without your knowing?”

Lady Percy nodded. “He locked me in my bedchamber, because I grew hysterical when I realized he was taking both of my daughters,
and when I won free again, everything had disappeared, including the servants, although he had left his men to watch the place.
They must have stolen it all that night. Angus came for me two days later and carried me off to Tantallon, his castle by the
sea. I stayed there, within arm’s reach of my daughter but never allowed to see her, until he had his final falling out with
the King and we escaped to England. I never saw Dunsithe again until today.”

“A pretty tale,” Donald snarled, “but a false one, I’ll wager. One frequently hears that Angus is but a pensioner at Henry’s
table, forced to do Henry’s bidding. How can that be if he possesses as much wealth as you say he stole from here?”

“I do not know,” she replied. “It is true that one hears such things, but perhaps Henry took all Angus had and gave him just
enough to let him keep up appearances. That would be ironic, would it not?”

Donald looked long at her. “Madam,” he said at last, “I do not believe that Dunsithe’s treasure ever left Dunsithe, for as
long as Angus controlled the Maid, he controlled her fortune. After all, he could not have known that his royal regency would
end only a few months later, forcing him to flee Scotland.”

“But—”

“Silence,” Donald snapped. “It is clear that Gordon or some of his minions managed somehow to hide her inheritance, but he
must have intended her to claim it. Therefore, she must know how to do so.”

Lady Percy looked speculatively at Molly. “I do not see how she could know more than I do,” she said thoughtfully. “She was
not yet six, after all, when Angus took her. And her father died suddenly. It is not as if he had known he would die and took
opportunity to whisper some secret in her ear, or that she would remember it now, even if he had. Do you recall any such thing,
Molly?”

“I have already told him that I do not,” Molly said, still trying to digest the notion that the beautiful Lady Percy was her
mother. “I barely remember Dunsithe. I have lived the greater part of my life on Skye, after all.”

“There, you see?”

“Nevertheless, madam,” Donald said, “she is the key to Dunsithe’s fortune, and if she does not know more than she has told
me, it will go badly for her, because one way or another I mean to learn all she knows. I’m told she bears a mark on her breast
in the shape of a key and that you put that mark on her yourself.”

“Aye, I did, to my shame,” Lady Percy said with a look of deep remorse. Avoiding Molly’s gaze, she added, “Her nurse and I
discussed the likelihood that her appearance would change over the years, and I feared someone might try to put a false Maid
in her place. The mark was meant to keep that from happening.”

“What key did you use? What did it open?”

“Faith, I do not know! ’Twas years ago, and the key was just one her nurse found when I asked her to fetch one.”

“I do not believe you,” Donald said. “It is too great a coincidence that we search for a hiding place whilst the lass bears
the mark of a key.” He glanced from one to the other. “Believe me, one of you will tell me what I want to know.”

“You are mistaken,” Lady Percy said urgently. “We know nothing!”

With a sneer, he said, “We’ll begin with the lass. You will not like hearing your daughter scream, madam. I shall begin by
giving her just a little pain, but I’ll wager that if she tolerates that without talking, she will not hold out long against
more of the same pain you gave her when you bade her farewell.”

“No!” Lady Percy rushed at him, catching Colson off guard. The man-at-arms leaped to grab her, but he was not quick enough
to do so before she flew at Donald, raking his cheek with her fingernails, drawing blood.

Donald caught her arms, twisting them hard as he flung her away. When she landed in a heap near the hearth, Molly turned to
run to her, but Donald caught her, his hand gripping her arm so tightly that she knew he would leave bruises.

“Colson, pick Lady Percy up and see that she watches closely whilst I question the lass. I believe her ladyship will quickly
remember which key she branded her with and where she hid it afterward. I’ll acquit you of knowing what that key will open,
my lady, but only because I believe Angus would long since have forced you to tell him anything you knew. Since it is patently
obvious that he did not, perhaps he never learned about that mark.”

“I tell you, I know nothing that can help you,” Lady Percy cried.

“One of you knows something,” he retorted harshly, “and the quickest way to learn which of you it is, is to question the lass.
I don’t doubt she could watch you suffer pain without blinking an eye, since she scarcely knows you, and her last memory of
you is painful, but you are still her mother, are you not?”

“Oh, please, sir, do not!”

He was still holding Molly tightly, but she was frantically looking around the hall in search of a weapon to aid her. Surely,
there must be something. Even as the thought crossed her mind, a glint of light sparkled on the handle of the dirk Donald
wore in the sheath on his belt. She eyed it obliquely. Did she dare take it?

Donald was watching the other two. Lady Percy continued to argue with him as she struggled in Colson’s grip, and Colson had
all he could do to hold her.

No one was looking at Molly.

Slowly, carefully, she inched a hand toward Donald’s dirk. Only the two men remained in the hall, but she had no illusions.
Even if she and Lady Percy managed to incapacitate them, many more of Donald’s men were outside; however, she decided to worry
about that only if the need arose. Fixing her attention on the dirk, edging her hand toward it, she shifted her body slightly
to conceal what she was doing from Colson.

Her hand touched the hilt of the dagger.

They were still arguing. She paid no heed to what they said, even when she heard Lady Percy cry out as if Colson had hurt
her. She dared not listen or look. She had to keep her attention on the dirk. Giving a slight tug, she found that it moved
easily, more easily than she had dared hope.

A sudden silence filled the chamber.

Quick as thought, Molly snatched the dirk from its sheath and turned its point toward Donald’s side.

“Release me,” she snapped, “and step away!”

He did not obey, merely raising his brows as he said lightly, “You do not look like much of a killer to me, lass.”

“I nearly killed you once before,” she reminded him.

“Aye, from a distance and with an arrow. But had it not been for my own foolishness in yanking it free, you’d have done me
no great harm. As it was, the bleeding stopped more quickly than I had any right to expect. I doubt that you have the nerve
to plunge that blade into living flesh.”

“Don’t tempt me,” she said, hoping she sounded more sure of herself than she felt. “I am perfectly capable—”

She cried out when he grabbed the hand holding the dagger. She heard Lady Percy shriek again but she was too busy struggling
with Donald to see what the others were doing. Her very determination to prevent him from taking the dagger seemed to give
her strength she had never known before. Suddenly, she had both hands on the hilt, although how she had freed the one from
his grip she did not know. Slowly, ever so slowly, she forced the point inward again, toward him.

Strong hands grabbed her from behind, and shrieks and shouting echoed all around her as Lady Percy and Colson joined the struggle.
Colson’s enormous hand smacked down atop hers on the hilt of the dagger. Then Molly was free, spinning away from Donald.

She landed hard on her backside on the floor.

The two men leaped apart, still facing each other, and as they did, Lady Percy crumpled to the floor between them. Bright
red blood oozed through her clothing from a wound in her side.

Molly stared at her in shock, willing herself to move, finding that she could not. Her legs and feet felt as if they had turned
to wood.

“No,” she moaned as tears poured down her cheeks, and whatever held her let go. Flinging herself down beside her mother, she
clutched at her and pressed her hand against the wound. “Don’t die,” she cried. “Not now, not here!”

Donald caught her and wrenched her upright. “So you do care, do you?” he said, giving her a shake. “Not that it matters. The
way she’s bleeding, she’ll not live long, and I’ ll soon send you to join her if you don’t tell me what I want to know.”

“You murderer! I wouldn’t tell you anything even if I did know!”

“We’ll begin by having these rags off you, I think,” he growled, jerking her around to face him and grabbing the front of
her shift with both hands through the torn bodice. “I want to see the imprint of that key.”

“If you do, it will be the last thing you see in this world before you enter the next,” Kintail snapped from the rear of the
hall.

Astonishment, delight, and relief surged through Molly as she whirled to reassure herself that Fin was really there.

He stood in the doorway, sword unsheathed and at the ready, his rage making him look larger and more dangerous than ever.
Two men flanked him, and such was her delight at seeing him that she nearly failed to recognize them. One was Tam Matheson.
The second, to her amazement, was Thomas MacMorran.

Colson whipped his sword from its sheath, held it up, and stood balanced on the balls of his feet, waiting for a command from
his master.

In that brief silence, Molly heard Lady Percy give a shuddering gasp. The sound chilled her and tied knots in her stomach.
Was it possible that she had found her mother only to lose her forever?

Terrified, she wanted to pull away, to run to her, but she dared do nothing to distract the men lest one of them act in haste
or folly. Only when Donald released her and stepped away to draw his sword did she rush back to Lady Percy, and even then,
she did not take her eyes from Donald, fearing he might turn his sword on them, might even be so dastardly as to use them
as his shield.

He was paying them no heed, though. His gaze was fixed on Fin. “Have you defeated all my men, then?” he demanded.

“We have,” Fin said. “They await you in yonder courtyard.”

“They can continue to wait till I have dealt with you, sir,” Donald said. “Or are you such a coward that you will not fight
me?”

Molly, kneeling now beside Lady Percy, glanced at Fin to see that he was watching her, apparently unconcerned that Donald
had spoken to him.

“Art safe, sweetheart?” he said gently. “Aye, sir,” she said, swallowing hard. “He did not hurt me.”

“Who tore your gown?” His tone was edged now, ominous.

She dampened dry lips, not wanting to tell him, knowing that she would feel responsible for Donald’s death if she named him
for such a deed.

“I tore it,” Donald snapped. “If you don’t like it, do your worst!”

“Tell your man there to surrender,” Fin said. “Mine are two to his one, and they will show him no mercy if he challenges them.”

“And if I win?”

“If you win, you and your men can go free, for I will be dead.”

“And the lass will be mine again, as will her fortune?”

“Which is why you will not win.”

“Why should I trust you?” Donald demanded. “What is to keep your men from killing me after I’ve killed you?”

“My word is good,” Fin replied curtly. “You should know that, Sleat, although the fact that you doubt it makes me wonder if
you have any sense of honor at all. Not that it matters now,” he added. “You won’t suffer the lack much longer. Now, tell
your man to stand down.”

“Put away your sword, Colson,” Sleat said.

When Colson had sheathed his weapon, Fin said, “Tam, take him out to join the others. The lad tending the injured woman can
stay.”

Bewildered, Molly looked at Fin, then at the equally baffled Tam, wondering what “lad” Fin was talking about. Donald and Thomas
looked confused, too.

But Fin was unaware, for he went right on speaking to Tam. “When you’ve seen to that chap, come back so that Sleat does not
attempt to strike down Thomas if he does succeed in besting me. If he wins fairly, your only task is to see that our men leave
this place safely and with my honor intact. Is that clear?”

“Aye, master,” Tam said, glancing uncertainly again at Molly.