Highland Angels (Fated Hearts Book 3) (2 page)

There was a knock at the door before Andrew could correct Isla. He opened it to a serving maid who said, “Graham and Rory have just arrived with a woman. Graham asked me to fetch ye.”

To Isla he said, “I have to see to this. I’ll be right back up.” He stroked Davy’s head once before leaving the room.

When Andrew reached the great hall, their father was listening to Graham explain what had happened. Laird Dougal MacLeod glared at the bedraggled young woman who, still in wet clothes, stood before him shivering uncontrollably.
Well woman was a bit of a stretch
, he thought as he looked down at her. She appeared to be little more than a child herself.

Dougal’s ice blue eyes shot daggers as he roared at her. “By God, wench, I’ll beat ye to death with my own hands if that lad dies.”

~ * ~

Tall and powerfully built, Laird MacLeod resembled an angry Norse god with long grey hair and a flowing beard that still held hints of gold. He terrified Anna and she couldn’t understand why they didn’t believe her.
Nay, that’s not true
. The MacLeods hated the MacKays and the MacKays hated them back. They would naturally believe the worst about each other. At this moment she was fairly sure no MacLeod would have pulled a MacKay from an icy loch so they must assume the reverse was true as well. Even worse, they assumed she had abducted the child, allowing him to fall through the ice, and only saving him because of the ransom he would fetch. Piecing it together, she learned that the lad she saved was the laird’s grandson, David.

The only blessing she could discern was they didn’t know her identity yet. Perhaps there was a chance she could escape without her brother finding out what she had done. He was the only person on earth who could possibly be angrier with her over this than Laird MacLeod appeared to be.

The old laird looked up when the warrior who had taken the child from her entered the hall. His voice thick with concern he asked, “Andrew, son, how is the lad?”

So that formidable warrior was Andrew MacLeod.

“Isla thinks he’ll be all right.”

“MacKay won’t get away with this, son.” He turned to Anna again. “Wench, what’s yer name?”

“Eve,” Anna lied.

“Who’s yer father?”

“My father’s dead.”

“Well praise God. The only good MacKay is a dead one.”

Anna trembled and fought back tears at the thought of her dear father.

“So, Eve, are ye the village whore?”

Tears did slip down her cheeks at that. “Nay, Laird. I am a seamstress,” she whispered. It wasn’t a complete lie. She was skilled at needlework.

“How many MacKay scum were with ye, Eve,
the seamstress
?”

“No one was with me,” she answered barely above a whisper.

“Why protect them? Yer clansmen have abandoned ye, but curs will do that, won’t they? If ye’re their whore, ye must not be a very good one.”

“No one was with me, Laird. I didn’t take the child.”

“Lying bitch,” Dougal spat and backhanded her with enough force to knock her to the floor. “Rory, toss her in a cell until we find out what happened. Then I’ll decide whether she dies quickly or just prays to die.”

Before she could wipe the blood from her lips, Rory jerked her up roughly. Glancing around in a panic, her eyes locked with Andrew MacLeod’s for a moment and the venom she saw there sent another wave of fear and despair coursing through her. She could no longer hold the tears back.
Dear God, please let me freeze to death soon so I never have to see these men again
.

The devil must have heard her thoughts because he said, “Give her something dry to wear.”

“What?” asked Dougal. “Why?”

“Isla said the only reason Davy will survive this is because this filthy MacKay stripped off his wet clothes and wrapped him in her dry plaid and mantle.”

“Ye can’t ransom a dead child, Andrew. It was in her own best interest to keep him alive.”

“Still, she did it. Give her something dry.”

His father gave a curt nod and with that Andrew left the hall.

Rory dragged Anna through another door. Taking a torch from the wall, he forced her down a flight of steep stone steps. At the bottom they entered a long dark hallway. She stumbled alongside him to the end of it until they reached another set of stairs, these even more steep and narrow than the first. When they reached the bottom, he pushed her through another door into a dark, cramped hall off of which were several small, dank cells with doors made of rusting iron bars. He shoved her roughly into one, slamming the door and locking her in. She had barely taken in the damp stone floor and the cell’s only furnishing, a wooden bed without a mattress standing against the back wall, before he left. Taking the torch with him, he left her in utter darkness.

Frightened and colder than she had ever been in her life, she made her way to the bed and sat on it, drawing her knees to her chest, trying to conserve what little body heat she had. Dear God, what had she done? She should have just turned and gone home instead of venturing onto the ice. Nay, she never could have left the child to die, regardless of whether he was a MacLeod or not.
I should never have walked the bluff in the first place
. Nay, the child would have died then too. She could only believe that God had led her to where she needed to be, or at least to where the child needed her to be, but at what price?

Rory returned shortly with a coarse woolen léine and a thin blanket. He tossed them into the cell before leaving again. With cold, numb fingers, Anna struggled to untie the laces of her garment, peeling off the damp heavy wool. The dress he brought her was much too large but it was warm and dry. She slipped it on, wrapping the thin plaid around her shoulders and over her head before curling up on the wooden bed. Still freezing, but overcome with exhaustion and despair, she fell asleep.

~ * ~

Andrew tried to shake the disturbing image of the trembling MacKay lass with terror-filled eyes out of his mind as he returned to his son’s side.

Isla still held David on her lap near the fire, but he was awake and drinking the soup that she patiently spooned into him.

“Da, I told Isla about the angel who saved me.”

“And I have been telling David that it wasn’t an angel, it was Nessa.”

“Well it wasn’t Nessa,” said Andrew. “We don’t know what happened to her.” He shook his head slightly at her questioning look.

David frowned. “I told ye Nessa didn’t save me, Isla. But, Da, nothing happened to her.”

“Son, drink yer soup. Ye need it to warm ye up.”

David acquiesced and finished the bowl. He curled up in Isla’s lap again and began to doze off. When she thought he was asleep she asked, “What happened?”

“It isn’t clear. We think the MacKays attacked and abducted David, but we won’t know for sure until we find the men I left to guard him—or their bodies.”

Isla made the sign of the cross. “God protect them. But if Nessa didn’t dry Davy, whose plaid and mantle was he wrapped in?”

“They belong to a MacKay lass who we found him with. We think she didn’t act alone. There had to have been others. She might have lured him away while they attacked. Davy doesn’t seem to remember the attack, and for that I’m thankful. Apparently, while fleeing with him, she let him fall through the ice. Da is keeping her in the dungeon until we find out for certain exactly how she was involved.”

“Is she the one that stripped his wet clothes from him?”

“Aye.”

“Well, at least she did that much. But poor Nessa, I hope she’s all right. She doesn’t deserve to be ravaged by a horde of MacKays.”

“Nessa’s all right. She was talking by the fire when I left,” said David.

“Oh, lad, I thought ye were asleep. I didn’t mean to wake ye,” said Isla.

Andrew was puzzled by his son’s statement. “What do ye mean ‘Nessa was talking by the fire’? Was that when the MacKays took ye?”

“No one took me, Da. I already told ye, I went dragon hunting. Nessa didn’t want to play so I went by myself.”

“Ye went into the woods alone? The lass wasn’t with ye?”

“Nessa was busy talking. I didn’t mean to go far but I got lost.”

“I meant the MacKay lass. Didn’t she lead ye away?”

“Nay. I was alone until I fell through the ice and the angel with red hair came and saved me.”

“David, there was no angel, just the MacKay lass who stole ye.”

“No one stole me, and I saw the angel.” He frowned. “She ran down off the bluff waving at me before I fell through the ice. Then she slid on her tummy and pulled me out of the water. I wonder why she didn’t fly. That would have been something to see. Anyway, I’m not sure exactly what happened next, but all of a sudden ye were there and ye took me from her before I could see her wings.”

David seemed so sure of his story. His confidence disturbed Andrew.

“Maybe he dreamt it?” Isla suggested.

“He must have.”

“I didn’t dream it, Da! Why won’t ye believe me? Ye saw her too.”

“All right, son, let’s not talk about the angel anymore. Come here. I’ll tuck ye under the covers and stay with ye till ye fall asleep. Ye need to rest now.”

He helped his son into the bed and sat with him until the lad was sleeping deeply. It chilled his heart to realize how close he had come today to losing his child, the last precious link to his wife. He wanted those responsible to pay. When David was sleeping soundly, Andrew rose to leave. “I’ll come back later. Send for me if ye need me, Isla.”

The things David had said confused Andrew. He believed the MacKays had to be behind this, but the lad’s story never varied. When Andrew reached the great hall he joined his father and brother at the refectory table, sitting down wearily. “Is there any news?”

“Not yet. Only Rory returned with me,” said Graham. “I sent the rest of the men to try to find out what happened. As soon as I arrived back here I sent another contingent out as well. I couldn’t get the lass to give me a clue about how many of them there were.”

“Did she tell ye anything?” Andrew asked.

“She wanted me to believe she saw Davy from the bluff. According to her, he was alone on the ice. She tried to get him to turn back but he fell in before she reached him.”

“She said she came from the bluff?” Andrew asked in disbelief.

“Aye.”

“Lies,” said their father.

“I would have thought so, but Davy said the same thing. What else did she say?”

“Something about sliding on her stomach to pull him out and taking his wet clothes off.”

Andrew swore, scrubbing his face with his hands. “It can’t be.”

“I believe he fell in and she was panicked enough about losing her hostage to get him out and try to warm him up. But I don’t believe she wasn’t involved with kidnapping him. She’s just lying to protect herself,” said Graham.

“Graham, Davy has talked about the ‘angel’ who saved him every waking moment since we found them.”

“It was just his imagination, son,” said their father reasonably. “There are no MacKay saints. How does he explain them stealing him in the first place?”

“That’s just it, Da, he says no one stole him, he wandered away. He tells the same story she told ye. The ‘angel’ as he calls her, ran down off the bluff and pulled him from the water.”

“Why would an innocent MacKay lass, and I use the term ‘innocent’ loosely, be on the bluff alone, that far from Naomh-dùn on a bitter cold day like today?” Dougal asked. “If she was there, she was probably up to no good. Nay, son, the MacKays are behind this.”

At that moment, the men who had stayed with Nessa and David, along with the additional men Graham sent to find them, entered the great hall with a tearful Nessa in tow.

Nessa rushed forward saying, “Laird, please forgive me. I was playing with little Davy and lost him. We looked everywhere. I never imagined he could walk all the way down to the loch. Please, Laird, I am so sorry.”

“What?” roared Dougal.

“Donald, explain,” demanded Andrew.

Donald, the captain of the MacLeod guard could barely keep the irritation out of his voice. “I rode back from the loch expecting to find those left behind slaughtered. When we reached the clearing, we found everyone searching for Davy. There had not been an attack. It appears that Nessa simply hadn’t watched him properly and he wandered off. Everyone thought he was with someone else. I don’t know what that damned MacKay lass was doing at that end of the loch but it’s probably a good thing she was there. Everything seems to suggest she was alone. We found no signs of anyone else.”

Dougal put his head in his hands and Andrew trembled with suppressed fury. He strode toward the stairs leading to the dungeon as he ordered, “Make a room ready.”

Donald asked, “Andrew, is David all right? Where are ye going?”

“Davy’s fine,” Graham answered. “It appears the ‘
damned MacKay lass
’ saved his life, and I suspect Andrew is going to release her from the dungeon.”

When Andrew reached the cell, he found the lass huddled in a ball, wrapped in the thin plaid she had been given. “Come, angel, let me get ye out of here.” He lifted her from the wooden bed. She was blue with cold and her breathing was shallow. He prayed fervently that it wasn’t too late.