Margo Maguire (9 page)

Chapter 13

“Y
our island?” Lachann asked. “You’re referring to the small isle that lies beyond the straits?”

“Aye.”

“ ’Tis habitable?” It appeared to Lachann as a mass of rock and nothing more.

“Barely,” Anna answered. “But Kyla will be safe once we’re there.”

Kyla stumbled and Lachann lifted her into his arms. “Birk won’t come for me on the isle.”

Lachann winced at the sight of her bruised face. “Where is he now?”

“I don’t know.”

And Lachann had too much to do today to spend time trying to find him. If both women felt they would be safe on the isle, then so be it. He helped Kyla to the edge of the pier, where he’d caught her the previous day, and left Anna to help her into a small curragh. She stepped in and he handed her the satchel.

“Thank you.”

Lachann gave her a nod, then stood watching as they settled into the boat and Anna cast off. As much as he might doubt their strategy for keeping Kyla safe, they had been dealing with her husband far longer than he had.

Anna handled the boat expertly, navigating ’round the other boats at the pier until they were in the open water. After a moment, she looked back at him.

Their eyes met, and when she smiled, he realized he’d stood there overlong. ’Twas time he went about his own business.

His horse had followed him to the pier, so he mounted and rode into the hills, up beyond the village. From the high peak that rose above the village, he could see much of Kilgorra’s coast and the sea. He looked for Anna and saw that she’d already rowed a good distance.

He rode up to a large cottage at the edge of a vast field of barley. As he approached, he saw an old woman carrying a basket of laundry to the side of the house where stout drying ropes had been hung. She looked up at him. “Ye’re the Braemore lad?”

“Aye,” Lachann replied, glad to have his thoughts diverted from Anna MacIver. “Though ’tis been some time since I was called a lad.”

“When ye’re my age, everyone is but a lad or a lass,” she said. “Ye look as though ye could use a draught of cool water.”

’Twas true. The sun had fully risen, but heavy clouds were gathering just north of the isle. Lachann dismounted as three young men stepped out of the croft. One led the way while the other two tied their belts ’round the plaid at their waists. The woman put the basket down next to her washing tub.

“Good morn to ye,” said the first of the men, extending his hand. “I’m Boyd MacPherson. These are my brothers, Tavish and Rob. That’s our granny, Isobel MacRae.”

Lachann gave a nod of acknowledgement as he shook the men’s hands. “Lachann MacMillan. You’ve a bonny farm.” He took the ladle of fresh water handed to him by the old woman. “You grow barley for the distillery?”

“Aye,” Boyd said. “We provide more barley than any other farm on the isle.”

Their prosperity gave these men good reason for learning to defend their land, though that was not so much Lachann’s concern at the moment. First, he wanted to see to it that Kilgorra was capable of blocking the sea lanes to his home on Loch Maree.

“I remember you, MacMillan,” Boyd said. “From Perth, 1715.”

Lachann looked up. “You were there?”

“Aye,” he replied. “Your brother Dugan was wounded on patrol when he came upon some of Argyll’s men. He was outnumbered but put up a good fight.”

“Aye,” Lachann said, cringing at the memory. “ ’Twas only because my cousin Duncan went looking for him that he survived.”

“Aye. I remember the day,” Boyd said. “Just a handful of us went from Kilgorra with my uncle to fight for King Jamie.”

“ ’Twas a long time ago,” Lachann remarked, heartened to know there were at least a few men on the isle who knew how to do more than throw a net or follow a plow. He took in all the brothers at a glance. “So you’ve fighting skills?”

“Aye. We all have.” Boyd gestured toward his brothers. “We followed our uncle Iain MacRae to Castletown. And on to Sheriffmuir.”

Where Lachann knew a battle had been fought.

“I plan to raise an army here on Kilgorra,” Lachann said.

“Aye, we’ve heard talk of it,” MacPherson said, looking across to his grandmother, who nodded.

“ ’Tis about time,” Tavish said. “Last summer, a band of pirates led by Blackburn MacGaurie raided and made away with thirty barrels of Kilgorra whiskey.”

’Twas what Lachann had expected. And yet Cullen Macauley had not heard of the raid. Likely he had not bothered to ask, and no one had told him. He was well and truly focused on the distillery, as though he could make his fortune there without any protection at all.

“There were killings that day,” Isobel said. “ ’Twas horrid.”

“Our men were unprepared,” MacPherson explained. “Our weapons rusty. We could not organize quickly enough to combat them.”

“Now we hear of pirates raiding the outer isles,” Rob said. “ ’Tis dangerous these days on Kilgorra.”

Lachann looked out at the sea. He knew there were numerous islands west of the mainland. Plenty of places for raiders of all sorts to hide.

“One such ship attempted to invade Braemore in the spring,” Lachann said.

“Aye?”

“We lost men as well.” Lachann remembered the carnage that day and vowed ’twould never happen again. Now there were cannons at Braemore, and he was going to provide yet another layer of defense here at Kilgorra against encroachers on Loch Maree.

“Our men need to be trained,” Boyd said. “Too few of us have any experience.”

“I brought some of the best men from Braemore to provide training,” Lachann said. “Our isle will be well defended in future, on land and at sea.”

“ ’Tis good to hear it,” Rob said. “Laird MacDuffie has done naught in years. I don’t believe he understood the devastation of the attack last year or the threat that still remains.”

“Because he’s become a wee tumshie in his dotage,” Isobel said with disgust.

As they spoke of raiders, they all looked toward the sea. They saw Anna’s curragh, just arriving at her isle.

“ ’Tis Anna MacIver,” Rob said.

“Aye,” Lachann said. “I saw her down at the pier just before she left.”

Isobel shuddered. “ ’Tis likely she’s takin’ Kyla Ramsay there to keep her from her husband for a few days. She does’na mind the boggle that haunts the place.”

“The boggle?” Lachann frowned.

“Aye. The wee isle is haunted by a fierce
sluagh dubh
. Birk would never go there.”

Lachann recognized the term, though he’d never encountered any such malevolent spirit in his travels. He wasn’t sure he actually believed in them.

The old woman shrugged while Rob answered the question. “Anna knows a way to placate the
sluagh dubh
and goes there whenever she likes.”

“She appeases it somehow,” Tavish said, “so the bloody thing leaves Kilgorra alone.”

Lachann had never heard such bleeting nonsense, but he didn’t argue. He watched for a moment as Anna’s boat floated out of sight to the northern side of the wee island. He intended to visit the place for himself to see if any part of it could hide a raiding force. He needed to know if there were any other good landing places within rowing distance of Kilgorra.

“Ramsay. Birk
Ramsay
?” he asked, remembering the name of the blacksmith at the castle. Naturally, many of the families on an isle like Kilgorra would be related. “He’s the son of the blacksmith?”

“His nephew,” Isobel said. “And neither one has a clever bone in his body.”

Aye, that much had seemed evident.

“MacMillan,” Boyd said, “we’ve got a harvest to bring in next month. But if you are ready now to arm and train our men to fend off a raid, we’re willing and able.”

“Aye,” Rob added. “Count on me.”

Tavish grinned. “Me, too. But you’d better take care if you give any weapons to the men at the distillery.”

Lachann gave him a questioning glance.

“Because they might see fit to try their battle skills on Cullen Macauley.”

Chapter 14

T
he sea was relatively smooth when Anna started out, far smoother than her nerves. No, she had not expected to encounter Birk before they got away. But she hadn’t anticipated Lachann MacMillan coming to Kyla’s rescue once again, either.

The man turned up in the strangest places, and Anna needed to get her reaction to him under control. He was to become her sister’s husband—yet another reason for Anna to try and figure a way to leave Kilgorra. Mayhap she would be able to talk Kyla into it this time.

They neared the isle, but the water had become choppy and the approach to the isle was tricky, with numerous underwater rock formations all ’round. Anna nervously eyed the rough waters as she rowed, as well as the clouds that were gathering overhead. A brisk wind came up, and Anna rowed faster, anxious to get them to dry land. “ ’Twill rain soon,” she said to Kyla, relieved when she steered her boat up onto the rocky shore. “As soon as I tie up the curragh, we’ll need to hurry.”

Once they got to the cave, there was no worry of getting drenched. Anna always kept it well-provisioned with firewood and blankets, so there would be no need to leave the cave once it started raining. And she’d packed plenty of food and the supplies they would need for managing Douglas while they were on the isle.

Anna steered the curragh ’round to a narrow stretch of beach on the northeast side and slid it up onto the sand. She stood and offered her hand to her friend. “Let me help you, Kyla.”

As soon as Kyla was off the boat, Anna tied it to the stake that Gudrun had driven into the ground years ago, then pulled the curragh as far out of the water as it would go.

They walked further north along the rocky beach until they came to an opening in the black, moss-covered rock. From the outside, the cavity was hardly visible. But once seen, it appeared to be a deep cave, like many around it. When Anna and Kyla slipped inside, ’twas nearly pitch dark, but they knew the route well. They made a turn to the right, and then a left, and a stream of light came through from the opposite end.

The ceiling was low, so they had to crawl through to the other side, and Anna knew ’twas difficult for Kyla with all her bruises. But she’d wrapped Douglas in a sling, where he rode comfortably against Kyla’s chest while Anna carried their provisions.

They finally reached the far end and crawled out of the tunnel. Standing, ’twas only a few steps to the cave where they’d spent so many peaceful hours away from the castle with Gudrun.

Once inside the cave, Anna unrolled the pallets they would use as beds, then took Douglas from Kyla and put him on one of them. She picked up an empty jug as Kyla sat down on her pallet beside her bairn. “Will you be all right while I—”

“Aye. Fresh water,” Kyla said. “Go.”

Anna took the water jug to the spring that fed the loch. When she returned, Kyla was lying on her side, feeding Douglas.

Anna felt Kyla’s gaze upon her as she put their provisions into the covered crocks that Gudrun had brought years before. She got a fire going under the cave’s outcropping and put a pan of water on to boil.

“Are you all right, Ky?” she asked. It had been a strenuous process for a bruised and battered woman, getting all the way from Kilgorra Castle to Spirit Isle.

“Mmm. I am now.” She closed her eyes and rested as Douglas drank his fill.

“Are you ready to break your fast?”

“Just tea,” Kyla replied.

Anna looked back at her friend. She’d eaten next to naught since the day before, when she’d collapsed on the pier, and Anna was worried. Kyla looked gaunt and pale, aside from her colorful bruises.

Anna took out a tin of tea and two cups. Mayhap she could get Ky to take something more with her tea.

“Anna . . . ,” Kyla said. “You’ve said naught of our rescuer.”

Anna noticed Kyla trying for a wry smile, but her split lip prevented it.

“What is there to say?” Besides the fact that Anna had not been able to shut him out of her thoughts and dreams at all last night, much as she’d tried. Or that a pitiful yearning for his embrace—and, Lord help her, his kiss—had plagued her during her weaker moments.

“I would say he was a hero to carry me up to Janet’s cottage yesterday, and then save you from Birk’s wrath,” Kyla remarked. “And this morn . . . he could have ridden right past us. He probably
should
have, if he wants Catrìona’s favor.”

Anna swallowed, her sore neck muscles reminding her exactly how much a hero Lachann MacMillan had been. Ach, aye—he was a man among men. One who had naught to do with her. “Well, he is not a troll,” Anna muttered.

“What?”

“He will be a strong leader once he weds Catrìona and becomes laird.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

“Doesn’t what? Become laird?” Anna spread honey on a crust of bread for Kyla and handed it to her.

“No. What if he doesn’t wed Catrìona?”

“Ach, you talk nonsense, Ky,” Anna scoffed, even though a wee trill of pleasure skittered through her at the thought of Catrìona failing to add Lachann MacMillan as one of her conquests.

She sat down across from Kyla. “Everyone knows that is his purpose here, and they all want to keep Catrìona’s true nature from him as long as possible.”

“Aye, but what if Catrìona won’t have him?” Kyla mused.

Anna reached for the water jug. “You may be injured, Kyla, but I didn’t realize Birk’s beatings had rendered you daft.”

“I’m not daft. What if Catrìona decides to wed Macauley?”

“Why would she?” Even Catrìona must recognize the superior man.

Kyla made a grim face. “You know Catrìona as well as I, Anna.”

Aye, Anna knew her stepsister well, and the thought of her clutches in Lachann MacMillan sickened her. But so did the idea of Cullen Macauley as laird of the castle and the isle. “Why would she choose Macauley over MacMillan?”

“Because she likes having her own way,” Kyla said.

“So she does.”

“Do you think MacMillan will be as easy to manipulate as the old laird?” Kyla asked. “Or Macauley?”

No, Anna did not think so. Lachann MacMillan was a man who knew what he was about and would not appreciate Catrìona’s lies and manipulations.

“Catrìona will choose whoever suits her own purposes,” Kyla said. “We both know that.”

“Aye, but MacMillan wants Kilgorra,” Anna said. “And there seems to be no love lost between him and Macauley.”

“Really? They know each other?”

“They know they’re rivals for Catrìona’s hand.”

Douglas slept while Anna and Kyla drank their tea. Anna had heard that the MacMillans wanted Kilgorra because of its location where Loch Ewe met the Minch. That he wanted to control what ships passed Kilgorra on their way south. Marrying Catrìona seemed a high price for it.

“The lairdship of Kilgorra is much more important to Lachann MacMillan than any of Catrìona’s bad, er . . . habits,” Anna said. “They say the MacMillans intend to build a dynasty here, like the MacDonalds of old on Skye.”

Anna had tried to imagine it—seeing all the buildings at the castle in use. Ships coming and going from the harbor every week. The distillery expanded. Every Kilgorran would become prosperous, even the fishermen, who spoke of exporting the fish their wives preserved, and the weavers, whose wool was some of the finest in Scotland.

“With a man like MacMillan in charge, Kilgorra would be safe from pirate attacks,” Anna said, remembering the previous summer’s deadly raid that had caught the islanders so unprepared. “He brought cannons, Ky. And that brigantine he sailed in on—”

“Aye. I saw it,” Kyla replied. She toyed with the hair on her son’s head. “But if MacMillan does not wed Catrìona, he will leave Kilgorra.”

Anna nodded.

“And if he goes . . . ,” Kyla said.

“Aye? If he goes . . . ?” Anna would never see him again, and Kilgorra would be no worse off than it was a month ago. But at least he would not be shackled to the likes of Catrìona MacDuffie. Anna had that one small satisfaction.

“If he goes,” Kyla speculated, “he might be persuaded to take you away with him.”

“Ach, now I know you’re daft, Ky.” Anna got up and went to the fire, filling Anna’s cup with more hot water. “You know I want no man to control my life.”

Kyla gave her a stern look. “Aye, you’d rather just stay on at Kilgorra Keep and allow your hateful stepsister to control it instead.”

Anna stared into the fire. Did Kyla think it was an actual possibility? That Lachann MacMillan would take her away to Braemore with him?

Ach, ’twas all nonsense. If she were to leave, she would have to figure a way to do it herself. And she would never leave without her friend.

Kyla laughed. “Did MacMillan actually catch me on the pier when I fainted?”

Anna nodded. “He moved so fast, ’twas unbeliev—”

“And when Birk came up to Janet’s cottage and shoved you against the wall,” Kyla said, “I saw MacMillan pull him off you and throw him over his shoulder. ’Twas as though Birk were naught but a wee lad.”

Anna could not suppress the ripple of pleasure that melted through her when she remembered Lachann’s heroism. If this was what Kyla had felt in those early days whenever Birk had been near, ’twas no wonder she’d married him.

He’d made her daft.