The boy rushed to the fire and drew a heavy pot toward him. Mary turned back toward Fiona, only to find the door open, with a man she knew too well standing inside.
Fiona looked over her shoulder, shivering at the chill air and then gasped.
The Earl of Sutherland pulled back the hood of his cloak and smiled. “When I heard the screams, I thought I'd find you here.”
***
They'd left the woman and her babe safely born. Sutherland, generously, had allowed Fiona to finish her work only with the agreement that the boy would not tell of Sutherland's arrival. They had all agreed, for Mary knew had they not, the boy and most likely the mother and child would have been dead. Once done, Sutherland drew them away, cloaked and hidden, outside the village where he had left his men and horses.
“How do ye come to Mackay land without notice,” Mary complained, forced onto a horse behind one of the Sutherland men.
He only grunted in answer, leaving her to cling to him as they moved along a narrow path, the horse lurching uphill, kicking rocks and snow from beneath its hooves.
Fiona looked back at Mary from her place in front of the next clansman, face pale. It was early yet, still hardly light, the sun hidden behind a range of hills to the east. Whatever his intentions, Mary knew Sutherland would not be so genial this time. She shivered, looking back over her shoulder at the faint gleam of grey from Varrich castle, nearly hidden from view by the hills surrounding it. Would they seek them out? Or would they believe the women still in the village? How long would the guard remain in the pub before growing concerned? And would the boy tell? Too many questions that Mary could not answer.
They traveled silently, the snow muffling the sound of the horses, trees heavy with snow. The Sutherlands did not speak, did not offer complaint or insult, but followed their leader without question.
***
Ann stepped into Nicholas's room with a tray of food to find her son standing naked by the fire. She stopped abruptly and then coughed to make her presence known.
Nicholas sighed and turned his head. “You should really knock, Mother.”
Ann blinked at the name, and then smiled faintly. “Ye should be in bed, Nicky.”
“Aye, I should be, and so should my wife. Where is she?”
“I do not know. She and Fiona went out early, a birthing in the village. They can take some time, ye know. She'll be back soon.”
Nicholas returned to the bed, sliding under the blankets with a grunt of dissatisfaction. “Why must they always tend to others?”
“Because it is what we do, lad,” Ann explained, setting her tray on Nicholas' lap. “She'd done her work for you and was needed elsewhere.” Ann held out the cup of ale. “Ye'd not want it otherwise, now would ye?”
Nicholas took the cup and scowled into it. “No, I suppose not.”
“And her thinking ye'd not come back this time, worried as she was when ye sent no word.”
Nicholas lifted a brow at Ann.
She sniffed and moved to fire, poking the peat into flames. “She did not tell ye she was angry?”
“I don't remember much, to be truthful.”
Ann sniffed again. “Men! Ye think so little of us, here waiting and worrying.”
“Ann, I will not apologize for something that had to be done. I wasn't going to worry Torquil was behind every tree aiming to kill me when I could solve the problem myself.”
“And once again nearly died from it!” Ann turned toward the bed, hands on her hips. “Ye've only got one life, lad. Mary willna live long if ye die.”
Nicholas looked at her, his dark hair tousled, a strand hanging over one eye as he looked at her. “She'd be fine, Ann.”
“Do ye think these connections we have mean so little?” Ann moved to the bed, settling on the edge to look at Donald's son, so much like his father, yet so different. “Ye've tied her to ye, lad, like nothing else. She'd do anything for ye, and deserves more.”
“She knows what life is like here.”
“Aye she does. And she'll deal with it as she can. All I am saying, Nicky, is not to leave her in the dark, let her know what ye do. It'll save some worrying.”
“And knowing I meant to confront Torquil would not have worried her more?”
Ann smiled, and patted his knee. “Aye, she'd have worried, but at least she'd know where ye'd gone and why. It's a comfort to know at least, even if ye can't do anything about it.”
Nicholas shook his head, a wry smile curving his mouth. “That makes no sense, Ann.”
“Aye, well a heart seldom does, lad.” Ann heaved a sigh and stood up. “Now rest, so when yer wife returns she'll find ye hale if not yet hearty. And make her know how much ye love her, aye?”
Nicholas gave her another wry smile. “That I can and intend to do.”
Ann patted his knee and left the room, wondering if he'd heard a thing she'd said.
***
They traveled for most of the day, stopping briefly, and then moving on. The snow hampered them little, the stout highland horses well used to the rocky paths. Sutherland gave them no clue to where they were going. The winds behind them scattered snow across their footprints, burying any evidence of their passing for anyone following.
Mary had to believe someone knew something was wrong. The guard had to come to find them gone. Would the boy tell? Would he fabricate some lie to cover their absence? Would not Nicholas sense something amiss deep in his heart? She closed her eyes, bringing him to mind, pushing such thoughts his way. But she was not a witch, nor had any way of connecting with him. She had only to remain calm, to allow Sutherland his way until some opportunity came their way to escape.
She'd had no chance to speak to Fiona. Sutherland had kept them apart, leaving them no opportunity to make a plan to escape. She would not leave without Fiona.
She had no doubt whatever it was the Earl had planned, it would not be good for her or Fiona, or the Mackays.
The second evening brought them to a tiny remote castle, hidden amid the hills. It was hardly twenty paces square, straight lines jutting upwards toward the sky, stones moss covered and crumbling. The doorway stood above their heads and the one of the men stood on the back of his horse to gain entry. Once inside he pulled out a rickety ladder and lowered it to the ground. Sutherland dismounted, shoving his cloak over his shoulders. “Well, our accommodations for a bit. You should find them warm at least.”
Fiona stepped in front of him, poking his chest with her fingers. “What do ye want of us? Have ye not had enough trouble, my lord?”
Sutherland gripped her fingers tightly to drag her closer. “Never enough when it comes to the Mackays, lass, never. I intend to have their lands and some day I will. Any chance I have of draining them of their resources I will take. And that means you, as their healer, and Mary as the wife of their second son. Perhaps not a great loss,” he amended, glancing cruelly at Mary, “but a loss all the same. If I see things as I think I do, it will give Nicholas Mackay a great deal of trouble to find his wife has left him.”
“I have not left him,” Mary argued, wrenching herself free of the Sutherland holding her arm. “Ye've taken us unwilling, and for that he'll find ye and kill ye when I tell him about it.”
Sutherland only smiled in amusement. “The boy will fabricate some story to cover our tracks. The snow has done more, and he'll find it difficult to know where to head. I have all the time in the world, and you, very little.” He shoved Fiona toward the ladder. “Get inside, now. If you have any value, it is only to keep me warm.”
Fiona glared at him, stumbling backwards. “I'll not give ye the time of day. Go to hell, with ye and yer men.”
He struck her with an open hand, throwing her to the ground at his feet. “Ye'll do whatever it takes to stay alive.” He leaned down and grasped her hair, hauling Fiona back to her feet. “Now get inside or I'll take care of you right now. It does not matter to me when you die.”
Mary rushed between them, shoving Fiona toward the ladder. “She is not a Mackay. She is Drummond, and by doing this, Sutherland, ye've made a new enemy for certain. Rory'll not stop till he finds her, and ye'll not be liking the dealings with my clan.”
Sutherland laughed. “I'm not troubled with the likes of Rory Drummond or your clan. My concern is only for the Mackays. Now get inside or I'll cut your throat here and now.”
Mary pushed Fiona up the ladder, stumbling inside behind her. The tower was damp, the roof hardly intact with a gaping hole to one side. A narrow set of steps led toward the upper part of the tower, but whatever floor had been there had rotted away. One of the Sutherland men climbed in behind them with a load of wood and began to make a fire. The chimney smoked and puffed, leaving them coughing, but soon began to draw as the fire glowed fitfully.
The Earl settled beside it, shrugging into his cloak. Another of the Sutherland men drew in the ladder and sat down beside the doorway.
Left relatively alone, the two women huddled together for warmth.
Chapter 28
Nicholas had just pulled on his shirt when the bedroom door flew open, banging against the stone wall with an echoing thud. “They've gone.”
“I know. For too long.”
Rory paced inside the room, his shoulders hunched like a great cat, tail lashing in his distress. “I should'na let her go alone.”
“They had a guard, Donald said.”
“Aye, found dead outside the tavern, buried in a snow bank, frozen. Seems someone hit him on the head,” Rory muttered. “And did anyone note his absence either? Bloody hell.”
“Doesn't help to complain about what's done, we've simply got to figure out what happened. I've gathered everyone downstairs. We'll start at the beginning, and move on from there.”
“But what then?” Rory complained. “Where do we start?”
Nicholas buckled his belt, drew on a plaid and pinned it to his shoulder. The blue weave seemed heavy and oppressive. He shook off the sensation, turning toward the Drummond warrior still pacing his room. “Someone had to know when they left. We start there.”
Rory scowled and stomped out of the room. Nicholas followed behind, forcing away the fear that threatened to destroy him, understanding Ann's complaint all too well. If only she had told him, had explained where she had gone. But would he have remembered? He didn't know. Instead they had to work it out, find out where the women had gone and why.
After that, he and Mary would agree not to leave each other in the dark. They would always know where the other intended to be.
Arriving downstairs, he noted the clan within the keep had gathered, all watching Donald intently.
Nicholas stopped next to his father, greeting him with a faint nod.
Donald lifted his hand to gain attention, needlessly for all eyes were turned toward Nicholas and his father. “I've concern that Mary and Fiona have come upon some trouble. Anyone with knowledge of them needs to step forward.”
One of the men stood up, holding up his hand. “I was on guard the night they left, my lord. A young boy from the village came riding in hard, his mother was in labor he said and having trouble.”
Donald nodded. “Aye, we know that, for ye spoke of it before. We found their guard dead this morning.”
A young woman from the village stood up slowly, hands shaking so much her apron trembled. “My lord, I heard Nellie in the village has a new bairn, but she is weak and remembers nothing. Her boy, Nigel has gone missing.”
Donald sighed, hands folded behind his back. “We must find the boy, he is the key.”
“And if something terrible has happened?”
“The snow has covered any tracks, we have no idea where to go,” another Mackay complained.
Nicholas held up his hand. “There has to be a clue, or someway to find the boy. I want everyone in the village checked, and checked again. If he's hiding we'll find him.”
The men filed out, leaving Nicholas and Donald alone, while the rest of the servants scattered nervously. Ann sat at the table, hands folded neatly in front of her.
Rose sat beside her, her hand covering Ann's. “Hugh has already gone out to find more information,” Rose began, then stopped, her eyes meeting Nicholas’ nervously. The woman had not yet found her place in the Mackay household. Nicholas nodded at her to continue. “Sebastian felt something was amiss and left days ago, to the east he said.”
Nicholas sat down beside Rose. “Did he say anything else?”
She shook her head, biting her lip. “Nay, only that he felt something was wrong. What might it be, Nicholas?”
“I have no idea. Sutherland lies to the east, but I cannot fathom him coming into Mackay lands so boldly to kidnap our women.”
Ann lifted a hand to her brow, blinking and then she looked at Nicholas. “No? Has he not done so already, Nicky? I fear that is exactly what has happened. He's found Mary and Fiona and has taken them, but to where? There will be trouble soon if we cannot find them, a month or two is going to leave wee Mary in dire straights.”
Nicholas stood up slowly. “What do you mean by that, Ann?”
She looked up at him, eyes crinkled with worry. “Ye've no clue have ye? Mary's with child, lad. She didn't want to tell ye, not yet. But she's farther along than she thinks. And with the stress of being held by Sutherland, if she's harmed, it may bring the babe even sooner.”
Nicholas blinked away the darkness rushing toward him, found himself sitting again beside Rose, unaware he had moved. “A baby?”
Rose gripped his hands, shivering. “Aye, she wasn't sure ye'd want a child.”
“And why would she think that? Would she have gone to rid herself of the babe?” Nicholas gasped, horrified by the thought.
“Ye were in such a despair, lad,” Ann explained. She looked at Rory. “She'll have Fiona, hopefully, but it may not be enough, if Sutherland means her harm. And a new babe for the Mackay, even one from Nicholas, will not be tolerated if the Earl has a choice about it. He'll know soon enough that she's with child, she'll not be able to hide it.”
Nicholas shuddered at the thought. “Dear god, Mary.” He found a hand on his shoulder, gripping him hard, pulling him to his feet. Rory's gaze met his intently.