Amanda Scott (48 page)

F
in knelt quickly beside Molly when she sat back on her heels, unable to hide her disappointment. Putting an arm around her
to comfort her, he reached into the chest with his free hand, sweeping it to touch every side and the bottom, in case the
contents might be proving elusive in some fashion, as the keys had earlier.

“Can
you
see anything there?” Molly asked. “Am I just unable to do so?”

“Nay,” he said. “The chest looks and feels empty to me, too. Although…” As the new thought struck him, he reached for her
arm and turned her to face him. “Let me touch the key mark again,” he said, slipping his hand beneath her shift to touch her
warm breast. “Mayhap…”

But when he touched the mark, he felt no tingling sensation, so he was not surprised when she shook her head. The chest was
simply empty.

“I don’t understand,” Nell said. “There ought to have been something in it, certainly, but what did you expect to find, sir?
It might have contained money, I suppose, if my husband had hidden some here before his death, but both of these chests together
are much too small to contain all that was lost.”

“They are not too small to have held gold coins, jewelry, or other small items of great value, however,” Fin said. “You told
me yourself that a vast quantity of jewelry disappeared. In any event, it is unwise for us to linger. My men passed through
this tunnel, you will recall, and I’d as lief none but the three of us know about this. Lock up the chest, sweetheart. It
can keep its secret for now. We’ll decide what to do about it after I figure out how to deal with Donald and his lot. I certainly
can’t carry these chests home in a boat full of Macdonald prisoners.”

Molly had already moved to close and relock the open chest, and he saw now that she was having difficulty with the key.

“What’s amiss?” he asked.

“It won’t turn.”

He took it from her and tried it himself, only to find that she was right. It would go into the lock, but no matter how hard
he twisted it, it would not turn.

“Let me try the other chest again,” Molly said. “Perhaps one has to open them in a certain order.”

Fin stepped aside to give her room, and Nell moved closer to watch.

“It’s useless,” Molly said. “It goes into the lock, but it still will not turn.”

“It seems to me that your wee folk are the wicked sort,” Nell said, shaking her head. “They gave you the secret but have stolen
the treasure.”

Molly shook her head. “I do not believe Maggie Malloch would do such a thing. We simply have not yet solved the whole puzzle.”

“Can you not summon this Maggie Malloch?” Nell asked.

“She has never come at my behest,” Molly said. “Moreover, if Kintail saw her earlier, I’d expect him to see her now if she
were present. I think we must solve this puzzle ourselves.”

“But what else can we do?”

Fin said, “If that key won’t open the other chest, it won’t, but we may think of some other way after we’ve given it more
thought. In any event, I mean to take both chests back to Eilean Donan until we can solve this mystery.”

He reached for the empty one and found that it was light enough for one man or certainly two men to carry. Glancing at Molly,
he said, “I thought you said this chest was too heavy to move.”

“I thought it was,” she said. “Try the other one.”

The second refused to budge an inch.

“I’ll have some of my men collect them both,” he said.

“And what if my key disappears again?”

“It won’t,” he said confidently. “Now that it is in your possession, I think you will find that even if someone else manages
to take it, he will be unable to use it for anything. At all events, we’ll do some thinking and confer with Thomas and Tam.
I do wish Patrick were here, though.”

He led the way back to the castle, and the women followed, emerging from the tunnel into the stone corridor. But the corridor
was no longer bleak or bare. Rich arras draped its walls, candles burned in silver sconces along the way, and a long, magnificently
colorful carpet covered the floor.

The three of them exclaimed aloud, and then stood and gaped for a long moment, but when they forced themselves to move on,
it was to find that the great hall, too, was transformed. Splendid arras cloths draped all but one wall, and on both long
walls, colorful banners on gilded poles lined the chamber’s length.

The high table was no longer battered and plain but highly polished and decked with silver and gold plate. Carved and cushioned
chairs surrounded it, and carpets more magnificent than the one in the corridor were scattered over the flagstone floor. Weapons
and shields hung from the undraped wall, all polished and gleaming, many bejeweled or boasting gilded hilts and decorated
sheaths. Plush velvet cushions graced exquisitely carved benches along the walls.

“It is as it was the night Angus came,” Nell said, clearly still in shock.

“I remember it now,” Molly said. “But why has no one else noticed this miraculous change? It is far too quiet. Where is everyone?
And what, pray, did they do with Donald’s body?”

“I expect Thomas and Tam carried it outside,” Fin said. “Recall, sweetheart, that most of my men were with our prisoners in
the courtyard.”

Again, he led the way, and when they passed through the anteroom, they saw that it, too, had changed. Arras draped the walls,
and a long, carved and cushioned bench stood along one wall that earlier had been bare.

Outside, they discovered the greatest change yet.

“Where the devil are my prisoners?” Fin demanded as he opened the door.

As Molly peeped around him to see only the fifty men from Eilean Donan, lounging at their ease in the courtyard, a familiar
voice spoke from the anteroom.

“Ye ha’ nae prisoners the noo, Kintail.”

Fin and Molly whirled around as one.

Nell started at their sudden movement but otherwise seemed only bewildered to see so few men where she had expected to see
many.

“She canna hear or see us,” Maggie said. She perched on a cushion atop the carved bench, arms folded across her chest, her
pipe cupped in one hand.

“Us?” Molly exclaimed. “You mean she cannot see Kintail or me either?”

“Dinna be daft,” Maggie retorted.

Fin said gently, “She means that Lady Percy cannot see the man sitting beside her. He’s the same man that I saw before, tending
her when she was hurt.”

“But I cannot see him!”

“Nay,” Maggie said. “Claud hasna the power tae render himself visible tae most folks o’ your world. Ye can see me, because
I do ha’ the power. I thought I explained that tae ye long since, but we didna discuss Claud much. The laird can see us both,
because he has the sight, but ye canna see my foolish Claud.”

“Who are you talking to?” Nell demanded. “I do not see anyone!”

Maggie gestured slightly with her pipe. “Now she canna hear ye when ye speak tae me, either,” she said, “and she’ll ask ye
nae questions after, for when she speaks again, it will seem tae her that nae time has passed.”

“What happened to my prisoners?” Fin demanded.

“Since the spell be broken, they never were here,” Maggie said. “Ye’ll note that your lady’s gown be nae longer ripped, and
your shirt o’ mail be gone.”

Fin clapped a hand to his chest, and Molly looked down at her bodice. Not only did it no longer show damage where Donald had
ripped it, but it looked clean and fresh. So did Fin’s clothing. She noticed something else, too.

“My mother’s dress is not torn or bloody where Donald’s dirk stabbed her.”

“Aye, sure,” Maggie said. “All is as it would ha’ been had my Claud no interfered on the day Donald the Grim attacked Eilean
Donan. Donald should ha’ died then, ye see. Now, as far as anyone will recall who were concerned in the attack, or in any
o’ the events that followed, Donald
did
die on that day, and Dunsithe appears as they remember it when ye arrived. The laird’s men-at-arms believe they escorted
ye both tae Dunsithe from Kintail merely so the laird could inspect his fine new property.”

“But others know that her fortune has been missing for years,” Fin protested. “Many have seen the bare walls, and many have
searched under every stick and stone. What do we tell them?”

“Tell them naught,” Maggie said with a twinkle in her eyes. “It be your own business, be it not, and none o’ theirs.”

Fin looked at her for a long moment and then grinned. “Aye,” he said. “That might work.”

“You have only to fly into a temper, sir,” Molly said sweetly. “No one dares to question Wild Fin Mackenzie.”

He raised his eyebrows. “No one?”

“Well, almost no one,” she answered, smiling at him.

“Cheeky lass,” he retorted. Then, turning back to Maggie, he said, “You say that your Claud interfered the day Sleat attacked
Eilean Donan?”

“Aye, ’twere Claud stopped Donald’s bleeding, thinking our Maid wanted the vile creature tae survive when fate had deemed
otherwise. Nae one can say now if he acted out o’ poor judgment or stupidity, nae more than they can say one way or another
about him causing the pair o’ ye tae meet on Skye, or causing James tae transfer her writ o’ wardship and marriage tae ye
from Donald the Grim.”

“Claud did all that?”

“Aye. He meant well all along, o’ course, but it seemed tae him and tae others, too, that each thing he did proved a mischief
and did nae good. He faced dire trouble within our clan for his actions.”

Molly said hastily, “But if he did all that, Claud is responsible for our coming here and finding my fortune, is he not?”

“Aye,” Maggie said with a grimace. “Truth be told, a body canna ken what energies be set loose when she casts a magic spell.
It be clear now that poor Claud and others, too, may ha’ acted under the spell that protected your portion. Only ye could
remove it, ye see, for only when ye came back tae Dunsithe and took the key from the wall wi’ your own hand could ye open
the two chests.”

“I could open only one of them,” Molly told her. “Is there another key somewhere, or should the one I have open both of them?”

Maggie frowned. “Ye could open only the one?”

Molly nodded.

“Then ye ha’ nae right tae the other,” Maggie said, still frowning thoughtfully. “The spell allows only the rightful heir
tae open it.”

“But if I am not the rightful heir, who is?”

“Your father had but one other child,” Maggie said.

“Bessie?”

“Aye.”

“But Bessie’s dead! She’s been dead since soon after they took us away! Angus said so. Everyone said so!” A chill shot up
Molly’s spine. “Do you mean to tell me that’s not true— that Bessie is alive?”

“I dinna
mean
tae tell ye anything,” Maggie said. “I believed the bairn had died and that ye’d inherited her portion. But if ye canna open
yon chest, I’m thinking there be wickedness afoot, and the rightful heir tae the other chest lives.”

“Mercy, then, where is she?”

“That I canna tell ye, for I dinna ken,” Maggie said. “Truth be told, even if I did, our rules wouldna let me tell ye, any
more than they permitted me tae tell ye how tae claim your portion. Although I set the spell, I canna undo even a part of
it. That be its greatest protection, since I canna tell anyone else how tae meddle with it, either. A secret shared be nae
secret at all, ye ken.”

“I must speak with my mother,” Molly said. “She must know something that will help us find Bessie.”

“Aye, I’ll release her,” Maggie said, “but ye should ken first that just as other folks’ memories ha’ altered with the breaking
o’ the spell, so too will her ladyship’s memory o’ what transpired these past days fade and change. Only ye and the laird
will remember, and if ye try tae explain what happened tae anyone else, ye’ll find your memories o’ this day dimming, too.”

Alarmed, Molly said, “We won’t forget that Bessie is still alive, will we?”

“Nay, I’ll leave ye that,” Maggie said. “And I’ll allow her ladyship’s memory tae fade more slowly than the others’, so that
if she kens aught o’ this wicked business, she can tell ye. Farewell now. Ye’ve work tae do.”

When Maggie faded from sight, Molly said, “Did Claud say anything?”

“Not a word,” Fin said, “but he looked quite pleased with himself.”

“I’m glad that he helped my mother,” Molly said, adding as Nell stirred, “Can you hear us now, madam?”

“Of course, I can,” Nell said. “Why should I not hear you when you are standing right here beside me? You have not answered
my question, either. To whom are you speaking?”

“We have been talking to Maggie Malloch,” Molly said. “When you asked your question, she did something so that you could not
hear any more, and she said that when you did hear us again it would be as if no time had passed. And so it is.”

“Mercy, do you mean that you said more than just that bit I heard?”

“Aye, she told us everything is as it would have been had Donald died the day he and his men attacked Eilean Donan,” Molly
explained. “Also, all the men believe that they came to Dunsithe only as our escort, that Kintail is merely inspecting the
property he gained by marrying me.”

“But what of me? I remember perfectly well that Donald abducted me and held me prisoner at Dunsgaith and then that he and
I were here with you.”

“You, too, will forget in time,” Molly said quietly. “As we will. But there is one thing that you will not forget, madam,
and it is the most important thing of all. You will recall that my key did not open the second chest.”

“Aye,” Nell said. “Did you learn its secret from your Maggie?”

“We did, but it is not what we expected. Apparently, I am not heiress to the contents of that chest.”

“But if not you, then who?”

“Bessie.”

Nell stared at her, her face draining of color. Her chin trembled, and when she tried to speak, at first there was no sound.
Then, at last, she spoke, her voice no more than a whisper. “Bessie is dead,” she said. “Angus told me so.”

“Angus lied,” Fin said. “I know how you must feel,” Molly told her quietly, touching her arm. “It was a great shock for me,
too.”