Chapter 13

"Bonnie!"

When Cathleen entered the healer's quarters, she found them empty, much to her surprise. After returning from the waterfall, she had gone straight to find her sister so she could tell her about her new plan, but she didn't know where she could be.

Perhaps she went tae the town. Or perhaps she is with Deirdre.

For a moment, she considered staying there and waiting, but she didn't have the time for it. She needed to meet with Bonnie immediately. The faster they stopped lying to the Drummonds, the better their chances were to appeal to their kindness and enlist their help.

Perhaps Macauley could find it in himself to forgive her, too. Perhaps he could look past her dishonesty and they could start again, this time without any lies between them.

Or perhaps it was nothing but wishful thinking. Either way, Cathleen couldn't keep doing it anymore. She couldn't keep hurting people who didn't deserve it.

Without bothering to pull her hair into a more decent updo, Cathleen left the quarters in search of her sister. Just as she walked past the door, though, a hand grabbed her arm and another clamped over her mouth, silencing her screams.

Surprised by the attack, Cathleen's arms and legs flailed, trying to hit the man who was holding her, while at the same time, she pulled at her other arm, trying to escape his grip. Her efforts, though, were all in vain. He was too strong, too big compared to her smaller frame. With the way he was holding her, Cathleen didn't even have a chance to reach for her knife or for anything else near her to use as a weapon.

Panic bubbled up inside her, her instincts taking over once she realized there was no way of escape. She thrashed in the man's grip futilely, her limbs desperately trying to shove him away.

"If ye dinnae calm down, ye'll never see yer sister again," the man hissed and it was the familiarity of that voice that brought Cathleen to a halt rather than the threat itself.

"Faolan?" The name was muffled by the hand over her mouth, which was now hesitantly loosening its hold.

Slowly, she relaxed so as to show that she wouldn't keep struggling and turned her head to look at him. It was Faolan, indeed, looking at her with equal measures of malice and exasperation. His presence was such a big surprise that Cathleen didn't even consider trying to fight back again or at least scream for help. After all, what could she say? Even if the guards managed to subdue Faolan, this would be the worst way for the Drummonds to find out about all the lies Cathleen and Bonnie had told them. With Faolan there, they couldn't control the narrative.

As she looked at him, Cathleen's gaze hardened, her mind recalling the recent threat. "Where is Bonnie? What have ye done tae her?"

The grip on Cathleen's arm was still punishing, but at least there was some space between them now, enough for them to stare each other down. "Perhaps I wasnae clear. I will be the laird nae matter what happens. If ye an' Bonnie are useless an' cannae follow a simple plan, then I will have tae force her tae commit tae her duty as the first-born. I will wed her whether she agrees or nae."

Bile rose to the back of Cathleen's throat. She had never had any doubts that Faolan would be furious by the change in their plans, but she hadn't expected him to come to Drummond Castle. She didn't even know how he had managed to slip inside unnoticed by everyone. Surely, he hadn't simply walked in as a guest, despite being a laird himself.

"Where is me sister?" Cathleen asked once more, demanding answers. She had to make sure Bonnie was safe first, before anything else. Faolan couldn't kill her, not if he needed her to take over the clan for good, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't do anything in his power to make her miserable and hurt her in ways she could never prove to anyone.

The crack of the slap was the first thing Cathleen registered before the pain bloomed over her cheek. The shock of the impact was more than the pain itself anyway, though the force of it whipped her head to the side, her bottom lip cut open on her teeth. Slowly, she turned her head to glare at Faolan once more, her gaze murderous.

"Ye have nae right tae ask questions," he said through gritted teeth. "Once ye start doin' as ye're told instead o' sendin' me silly letters, beggin' me tae spare these people, ye will see her again. Until then, I'll be keepin' her."

"How did ye come here?" Cathleen asked, despite the warning to stop asking questions. "How did ye get past the guards?"

"I have me ways," Faolan said. "An' I have me men. I could have killed ye an' Bonnie if I so wished."

A humorless laugh tumbled out of Cathleen. "Ye couldnae, though. Ye need us both."

She prepared herself for the pain of another slap, but it never came. Instead, Faolan said, "Ye have seven days tae find a way tae bring Lady Drummond tae The Broken Barrel. It's half a day's ride away from here. If ye fail tae dae so, next time ye see yer sister, she will be married tae me. Dae ye understand?"

Cathleen understood very well. With Bonnie in Faolan's clutches, she hardly had a choice but to obey him. If she refused to cooperate, her sister would be the one to pay the price and Cathleen couldn't allow that.

"Fine," Cathleen forced out, regret flooding through her at the choice she had just made. However, if it was a question of saving Bonnie or saving the Drummonds, though, she would always choose the former. "I'll dae as ye wish. What other choice dae I have?"

"Good," Faolan said. "Ye ken what ye must dae."

With that, Faolan made to walk away and Cathleen turned to face away from him, not wanting to look at him for a moment longer. Before she could question why there was no sound of footsteps, though, a sharp pain exploded on the back of her head. Confusion settled upon her and her knees turned weak, unable to support her weight as her vision blurred.

He hit me. Why would he dae that?

The last thing she heard before darkness enveloped her were the faint sounds of a conversation, one she couldn't hope to understand.

* * *

"Ye took her tae the waterfall?" Kian asked, already sounding amused, even if Macauley had hardly told him about anything. The two of them were walking in the courtyard, making sure that all tasks had been completed before dinner, and a part of Macauley wished he had never even brought Cathleen up at all. "That's nae like ye, Macauley. Ye always spoke about how that is yer place an' ye dinnae wish fer any lasses tae ken it."

"She's nae just any lass," Macauley pointed out. "I've told ye. It's different with her."

"Och aye, so ye've said." Slapping a hand on Macauley's shoulder, Kian laughed, steering him towards the training grounds. "Ye seem different, certainly. Are ye sayin' ye're in love? Ye? The man who always claimed he could never be serious with a lass?"

Macauley shoved Kian away from him with a roll of his eyes, though even he couldn't stop himself from smiling just a little as he thought about Cathleen. The moments they had shared by that lake were precious to him and he couldn't remember a time when he had been happier than when he was with her. Perhaps the reason why he had been so adamant he would never fall in love or marry was because he had never met another woman who made him feel this way.

Me whole life, I've been waitin' fer her.

"I never thought I'd see the day when ye would fall fer a lass like this," Kian said, but this time, there was no teasing tone in his voice. He had been pestering Macauley to settle down with a woman for a long time, so now that he had finally found someone he loved, Macauley was certain he was pleased. "She must be very special if she has yer affections."

"She is," Macauley said and as they walked past a section of the gardens, he came to a sudden halt. There, in the distance, he spotted a beautiful rose growing from one of the bushes that lined the path. It seemed like the perfect gift for Cathleen, as well as the perfect excuse to visit her once more. Even though he had only just seen her a few hours prior, he missed her terribly and wanted to see her again. "I'll meet ye at dinner.'

Kian frowned as Macauley started to walk away. "Where are ye goin'?"

Instead of responding, Macauley pulled out his knife as he approached the bush and cut the rose carefully, holding it up for Kian to see. Kian rolled his eyes fondly but dismissed him with a wave of his hand, and Macauley couldn't help but grin from ear to ear as he made his way towards Cathleen's quarters.

As much as he liked Bonnie, he wished Cathleen would be alone. He wanted to kiss her again, to pull her into his arms and tell her he loved her without anyone there to see or hear. As he reached the quarters, though, he saw a hooded figure, tall and imposing, bringing down the hilt of a dirk on the back of Cathleen's head.

She collapsed on the ground in front of Macauley's eyes and at first, he could hardly draw in a breath, let alone move. He was doused in cold sweat instantly, fear digging its talons deep within his gut as he took in the scene before him, the rose falling from his hand to silently hit the ground.

Did he kill her? Nay… nay, it cannae be.

Macauley finally jumped into action, his hand reaching for his knife as he ran towards them. The hooded man saw him approach too late and he seemed to realize he had no time to flee, but at the same time, Macauley didn't have time to make sure Cathleen was still breathing.

Either way, he was going to kill him for what he had done.

With a roar, Macauley threw himself at the man, raising his blade high to attack. It was a thoughtless, desperate move, one born out of fear, and it was bound to fail. The other man parried it with ease, jumping out of harm's way, but Macauley dealt him blow after blow, chasing him every time he tried to pull back. The more they fought, though, the more Macauley got his bearings, focusing on the fight enough to make it difficult for the man. After all, he couldn't help Cathleen unless he had dealt with him first, and so he wanted to kill him quickly.

Macauley swung his knife in an arc, knowing the other would avoid it with ease. Just as he did, though, he swung his left fist, catching him by surprise and landing a punch on his cheek, one that had the man reeling and stumbling backwards. He swiftly followed with another attack, thrusting his blade, but the man was quick to counterattack, nicking Macauley's arm and drawing a few drops of blood.

Had he not been so recently injured by that arrow, Macauley would have already finished the fight, he knew.

Could this be the man who attacked me? Or one o' them?

He couldn't figure out why he would do such a thing, though. The Drummond Clan lived in times of peace, with no known enemies. Who was it that had been plotting against them all this time? How could they have not known the enemy had gotten so close?

It must be related tae the men we found.

None of it made any sense to him. Besides, he couldn't think of a reason why an enemy would target Cathleen. She was only the healer and though Macauley would do anything for her, he doubted anyone else knew that. No one would think to use her as a bargaining tool.

"Who are ye?" Macauley growled as he attacked again, but the man made no sound. Instead, they clashed once more, and just as the other moved to attack, Macauley found his opening to pierce the other under the ribs. Groaning, the man grabbed his hand firmly before Macauley could push the blade deep, leaving nothing but a shallow wound. Once he had him close, the man was quick to fight back, trying to plunge his own blade into Macauley, who managed to tug his hand away from the man's grip and jump back at the last moment, though not without any harm.

The man had managed to slash a line along Macauley's chest, not deep enough to threaten his life, but enough to paint his shirt crimson and send a stinging sensation all over his body.

"How long dae ye think she'll live?" the man asked, and it was that, more than any attack or pain, that truly startled Macauley, making him hesitate for a moment and look at Cathleen where she lay on the ground nearby. The man had to be bluffing. He had to be trying to rile him up.

When he looked up once more, he was already several paces away, running as fast as he could away from Macauley while clutching at the wound on his side. At first, Macauley made to follow him, to finish off what he had started, but he couldn't bring himself to leave Cathleen's side.

Instead of following the man, Macauley crouched down next to Cathleen, pulling her unconscious body in his arms and checking for breath. Relief washed over him when he realized she was still alive, but the blood that had pooled beneath her head, warm and sticky and impossibly dark, only served to have his fear return with a vengeance, hands trembling as he petted her hair.

"Stay with me," he whispered to her, pressing a kiss on her forehead. "Please, Cathleen, stay with me."