Amanda Scott (46 page)

The wind roared, and she shivered in the thin shawl. She could tell from the way the water ripped at the shore that the tide was running swiftly, but not until they rounded a bend in the path and came upon a cove with a sailboat beached near the tide line did she realize he would take her by water.

Shoving her forward when she hesitated, Allan shouted, “Fergus!”

“Here, master.”

“Make haste, man. The sooner we’re away, the sooner we’ll be safe, but I’ve brought along a passenger for insurance.”

“Ye’ve brung a wooman! Are ye daft?”

“I am not.” Diana heard anger in his voice, but his man ignored it.

“Ye’ll never be taking a wooman on yon wee boat!”

“I will. Now hush your gab and help me launch her.”

“Aye, but ’tis doomed we are then,” Fergus said morosely. “Even He that preserved the Israelites in the Red Sea, and Jonas and Paul, won’t bless us wi’ a wooman aboard and weather like tae tear us all asunder.”

With all her heart, Diana hoped Fergus was wrong, but with such a wind and such a tide, she very much feared that he was not.

R
ORY AND DUNCAN WERE
alone again in the bookroom. The wind howled outside, and Rory had been thinking that his tower room was going to be noisy.

They had talked little after the others retired. After all the upheaval it seemed late, but the hands on the mantel clock showed it was just half past ten when a commotion in the great hall brought both men to their feet. Rory reached the door just as a manservant pushed it open, making him step quickly back.

“Visitors, my lord. I tried to—”

“Never mind,” Rory said, cutting the man off when he saw Neil Maclean with Bardie right behind him.

Duncan, peering over Rory’s shoulder by then, uttered an angry exclamation and tried to push past him, but Rory held him back.

“What is it?” he asked Neil, his heart in his throat. He could think of only one thing that would bring the young man to face the Campbells in their den, and his first words confirmed that fear.

“It’s Diana,” Neil exclaimed. “He’s taken her, and he says he’ll kill her if anyone follows, but Mary says he means her to lie in a watery grave if we follow or not. It’s the first time she’s seen something before it happened, sir. At least, she was nearly certain it hadn’t happened yet, that we—you—can still stop it.”

“Who took her?”

“That devil Allan Breck, that’s who, and he’s dangerous. He killed Ian.”

“Which way did he go?” Duncan demanded.

“Well, he said Oban, which would mean he’d ride straight south, especially in this weather, but Mary said he also mentioned the Firth, and she’s sure he’s gone by water, not by land. She’s not been herself since we learned of Ian, but—”

“I’ll find him, by God,” Duncan snarled, trying again to push past Rory.

Again Rory stopped him. His own fury urged him to do exactly as Duncan wanted, but he suppressed the impulse. “It won’t help to ride off in all directions, tilting at windmills,” he told his cousin. “We’ll tell your father and Argyll, for we are going to need all the help we can get. Neil, you and Bardie wake up everyone you can find and tell them what happened. Send some men to the ferry and others to search along the Loch Leven road in case they took a different route altogether, but the rest should follow us as quickly as they can. Tell them we’re riding to Castle Stalker. It commands all the sea routes into the Firth and guards the road south to Oban, as well. Are you with me, Duncan?”

“Aye, till we put the devil in hell!”

Stars filled the black sky overhead, but the water rushing around the boat was so dark that Diana could not tell how far they were from shore. She could not ask Allan, for he had gagged her in the understandable belief that she would not fear him enough to remain silent.

Fergus had not said another word.

For a time after Allan had dumped her into the boat and launched it, using an oar to fend them off the rocks, the two men had kept busy with rigging and canvas. She could see their shadowy figures now, darker against the stars than against the frenzied water. She saw lights twinkling in the distance from Morven, but they were few, and even as she watched, two disappeared. Most people had gone to bed long since, of course, for working folks rose and retired with the sun.

The boat was not large, but Allan was a good sailor and knew the coast of Loch Linnhe well as he knew the hills and glens of Appin. His life had depended upon such knowledge more than once, as Diana knew.

She did not fear that he might overset them, but sailing blindly into darkness frightened her nevertheless.

Although he had mentioned Oban, she was sure now that he had meant only to throw any followers off their trail. If the French ship awaited him in the Firth of Lorne, near Oban or elsewhere, the shortest route now lay through the Lynn, that narrow span of water between Lismore and the mainland. She doubted, however, that he would dare sail right under the noses of Patrick Campbell and the men at Castle Stalker. At the moment, he was tacking toward the west coast of the loch.

She heard the clink and whoosh of the rigging as the men pulled the main sail and then the jib into place. She sat low in the boat as Bardie had done, and it was just as well, for twice she heard the boom swish by overhead as Allan set his course. Had she sat higher, it might have knocked her into the water.

The sails had flapped wildly at first, then filled and steadied, until the little boat gained speed. Soon it was flying over the waves.

Diana felt Allan move past her several times, and she decided he must have tied the tiller in place. Clearly, he did not expect her to help, and she wondered if she would have. It was one thing to refuse to give him money or conceal him when he had as good as admitted killing Colin and Ian, but to refuse to help when one’s own survival was at stake was another matter. Her death would serve no purpose.

She wriggled, trying to get comfortable.

“If you give me your word not to scream, I’ll take off that gag,” he said, bending so close that she could smell the whisky on his breath.

She nodded, but a long moment passed before she felt his hand at the knot behind her head. Then her mouth was free. She did not try to speak, licking her lips and working her jaw a few times to ease its stiffness.

“Will you untie my hands?” she asked at last.

“Not yet.” He took the tiller, and for a moment he occupied himself with his course. Then he said, “Mind what I said about silence, Diana, if you don’t want me to slap that pretty face and gag you again. I doubt if anyone can hear you over the wind well enough to tell where we are, but I’d as lief they hear nothing at all.”

“Where are we going?”

“The ship lies off the east coast of Mull, near Grass Point.”

“Will you go through the Lynn, then?”

“Don’t be daft.”

“It is the most direct route, is it not?”

“On a clear day, perhaps,” he said, “but even in a calm, that’s treacherous water with currents too strong for any but the best sailors. Moreover, I thought you’d like to take a farewell look at the ancient home of the Macleans.”

“A farewell look?” A chill stole into the core of her body, but to her relief her voice sounded as calm as his.

Lightly he said, “I want you to come to France with me, Diana. The others there would be happy to see a friendly face from home. Won’t you come?”

Aware that she could endanger herself further with the wrong answer, she said evenly, “Allan, I have responsibilities here, people who depend upon me. Moreover, I simply cannot be a party to the terrible thing you did.”

“I did what was necessary,” he said. “Now, tell me you’ll come. No, wait,” he said firmly before she could reply. “Give thought to your answer, and think about it carefully, because it’s important.” Then he looked up at the sky and, as if he were carrying on an ordinary conversation, added casually, “With the wind as strong as it is, we’ll be out of the loch in no time, which is just as well. I’d rather not have to fight the tide when it turns, as it will within the hour.”

“I just hope you don’t wreck us on the rocks off Lismore,” she snapped.

“I’ve sailed this route more times than you know, lass. I know every inch of the loch and the Firth beyond it. What’s more, I can take my direction from the stars, so barring a sudden squall that hides them from view, all will be well.”

The wind had decreased, but it was still a considerable force, so when Allan stopped talking, she made no effort to continue the conversation. He needed to keep his mind on the tiller and rigging, or the fierce cross currents near the mouth of the loch could easily swamp the boat when they met with them.

The waves seemed higher and more turbulent even now, and she knew they were near the confluence with the Firth and the Sound. She could hear the wind howling as it swept through the latter, confined by cliffs on both sides, and recognized the sound from her childhood days on the island. The tide was swift, too, nearly at its ebb. It would be turning soon, and Allan would want to be beyond the mouth of the Sound before then. While the tide ebbed, he could easily make Grass Point, but once it turned, the power of the sea would flow against him, creating a tug of war between wind and water for control of the small sailboat.

She purposely kept her thoughts riveted to the present, unable to bear thinking of what Allan had done, or of her worried family at home. Once, without warning, an image of Rory leapt to her mind’s eye, but the moment was blessedly brief because the boat picked up speed for a few exhilarating moments, as if they were airborne. Then it settled again and began to move more steadily.

“There’s Mull ahead,” Allan said. “Can you see Craignure?”

She could not. The dense, looming shadow that was Mull was black, and the last few lights on Morven had gone out. Mixed with the wind, she could hear the roar of the sea crashing against the coast. Far ahead, suddenly, she saw a tiny red light in the blackness. It disappeared the instant she saw it, then flashed again.

Allan grunted in satisfaction. “There’s the ship,” he said. “Time to choose, Diana. Will you come with me?”

She wondered if he would force her to go. She had believed him when he told the others he would free her when he boarded his ship, but now it occurred to her that freeing her might prove difficult. She did not even know what he meant to do with the boat. He had not said if Fergus was to stay with it or go with him. Perhaps, she decided, it was more than time to ask some questions.

“What will you do if I refuse to go with you?”

“Let’s just say you would be wiser to agree,” he said.

“Why did you put that powder horn in Ian’s pocket?”

“Just to puzzle them a bit.”

“You called me a traitor, Allan. Do you really think that?”

“I’m saying you don’t honor your duty to your clan. I feared as much before, but I knew it for certain tonight when you refused to help me.”

“You asked too much,” she said, feeling deep sadness and a prickling of tears. “I could understand someone wanting to kill Colin, for not only was he from an enemy clan but he wielded his power unfairly. Still, I believed you that day when you said you hadn’t killed him, that you just had to get away or they would suspect you simply because you were near. But killing Ian is different. You took a part of Mary’s life when you killed him, and Mary is one of us.”

“She’s a woman. What does she know of war and enemies? She would have given herself to a damned Campbell, Diana. For that matter, you’re too forgiving of them yourself. You probably think that devil Calder would intercede for any cousin of yours. He wouldn’t, but you ought to understand from even thinking he would why I could never have trusted Ian not to give me up to his own brother!”

“Calder’s a fair man, Allan. You’d have got a fair trial.”

“He’s a Campbell, damn his soul. I don’t believe I am hearing this claptrap from a Maclean! He’s bewitched you, that’s what. The man is the devil incarnate.”

“He may be a Campbell,” Diana said bitterly, “but he is more of a man than you are. He doesn’t moan about foul play, and he doesn’t hide behind women.”

“You think I’m a lesser man than some damned
Campbell?”

“I am disappointed in you, Allan. I expect courage and daring from my kinsmen, not fear and vindictiveness. I expect them to face the consequences of their actions with courage and valor.”

“Indeed, my dear,” he said grimly, “and are you willing to accept the consequences of giving free rein to that vixen’s tongue of yours?”

“I’ve said only what I believe,” she said, fighting back a wave of fear.

“Have you?” he said. “Then you won’t object if we leave your fate to the Almighty to decide.” Turning toward the bow, he shouted, “Fergus, fend us off with your oar, man. I don’t want to knock this boat to flinders.” Lowering his voice again, he said gently, “This is where you leave us, Madam Disdain.”

Before she realized what he intended, she heard a horrid scraping sound. Billowing canvas flapped as the mainsail crashed down to the boom.

Fergus shouted, “I canna hold her long, master!”

Just as Diana realized that Fergus had jumped out, Allan yanked her to her feet and roughly untied the rope from her wrists.

“’Twill be a quick farewell, cousin,” he said, lifting her and swinging her overboard in one terrifying gesture. Before she had gathered enough breath to scream, her feet touched solid, ruggedly uneven terrain. Giving her a push, Allan added, “You’re on the Lady Rock, lass. If you can keep your wits and your footing till sunrise, you’ll see Craignure and the ancient Maclean lands to the southwest, Lismore to the northeast, and Castle Stalker beyond.”

“Allan, wait!”

He went on as if she had not spoken, “The mainland yonder is Campbell country, so I’d advise you to stay clear of it. You’re only a couple of miles from Mull. Swimming against the tide might make it seem more like ten, but I taught you to swim myself. If you’re strong enough, you’ll make it. If you aren’t, the sea will claim you quickly. The Lord will decide. Jump aboard, Fergus. We’re off!”

“Allan, don’t leave me here,” Diana cried. “The tide is turning. This rock will be covered long before morning!”