Chapter 16

"So, we all believe the men we spotted are connected tae this," Kian said, rounding his desk to sit in his chair with a weary sigh. The meeting had been going on for hours by that point, every single member of his council having something different to say, and Macauley couldn't blame him for being exhausted by all this. After all, Kian had been dealing with this mess before Macauley had even gotten there, ever since he had found out about the attack. They had wasted hours upon hours talking instead of acting, but then again, none of them knew how to proceed.

Kian had sent men out to look for any suspicious activity within their lands, but none of them knew what they were looking for. Macauley hadn't even managed to take a good look at the man who had attacked Cathleen, so he couldn't provide a description and be of any help. The only thing he could think of was going out there with the rest of the men, but he was no ordinary soldier. He couldn't simply leave when there could very well be another attack soon. His place was in the castle, defending it.

He had to trust that the scouts Kian had sent after the enemy would come back with results—if not the men themselves, then at least information they could use.

"So it seems," one of the Chieftains, Athol, said. He was an older man, with a greying beard and a pair of kind eyes that now hinted at thinly-veiled concern. Bonnie, much like Cathleen, had quickly endeared herself to everyone in the castle and it wasn't just another attack that the council feared. Everyone in that room wanted to retrieve her safe and sound, but they all knew that with every passing hour, their chances of finding her alive dwindled.

"But why Bonnie?" Macauley couldn't help but ask. "Doesnae that seem strange tae ye? If they were goin' tae take someone, wouldnae it be one o' us? Or Deirdre?"

Everyone seemed to contemplate that for a few moments, most of all Kian. Though Macauley could hardly see his expression under the mask, he had plenty of experience in reading his posture, the way he carried himself whenever he was deep in thought—chin resting on his hand, the corner of his mouth a little downturned as he pondered.

"Perhaps," Kian said. "It would certainly make more sense."

"Perhaps they didnae ken she's a commoner," Athol said. "She an' her sister appear as though they could be from noble stock."

It was something that was discussed often in the castle, not only among the council, but also among the servants. Macauley had heard many of them talk about how Cathleen and Bonnie often acted in a manner that was distinctly above their station, marveling at their manners. But Cathleen had insisted they were nothing but commoners. Why would she lie about that?

"In those garments?" asked Kian. "I doubt it."

"It wouldnae be the first time a noble lass has disguised herself," Athol pointed out.

It was nothing that the rest of them weren't already thinking. Athol had simply put it into words once again, but it only served to create more questions than it answered. Why would Bonnie and Cathleen disguise themselves? Did it have something to do with the man Cathleen had mentioned to him?

For a moment, Macauley considered telling the council about the conversation he had had with her, but in the end, he decided against it. Cathleen had been reluctant to talk about that man even to Macauley and he doubted that she would want everyone in the council to know about him. It was better to go to her himself and ask her directly. For all he knew, this had nothing to do with that man at all.

But it does seem like the most likely explanation.

"Cathleen doesnae ken who the man is?" another member of the council asked. "Did she nae see him?"

"She doesnae ken," Macauley confirmed. "Even if she saw him, she says she doesnae ken. But I didnae see enough o' him either. He was wearin' a hooded cloak an' his features were concealed."

"So all we truly have is luck," Athol said with a sigh, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "We have nae other means tae find those men."

Silence fell over the room. No one wanted to acknowledge that was the truth, but they couldn't deny it for long. As good as their scouts were, even they couldn't find something without knowing what it was they were looking for.

"How did this even happen?" Macauley asked, rather belatedly. "How did that man manage to come inside the walls?"

Kian looked at him, a small frown appearing on the visible part of his face. "Did ye nae hear? They found the guards patrollin' the back entrance unconscious and bound with rope."

Stunned, Macauley could only stare at Kian for a few seconds, his mouth hanging open. "Nay… nay, I hadnae heard. Why didnae they bring them tae Cathleen?"

"Because Cathleen is hurt, too," Kian reminded him. "They're fine. Deirdre took care o' them an' the maids helped. They're already recoverin', but they didnae see their attackers well either. We have some descriptions from them, but it could be anyone."

"How many men?" Macauley asked.

"Nay many," said Kian. "Eight, ten perhaps. Enough tae take on the guards but nae so many that they couldnae remain hidden."

Macauley cursed under his breath. This was more serious than they had originally thought, and he doubted it only had to do with Bonnie and Cathleen. There was a piece of the puzzle that he was missing. There was something he didn't know, something crucial, and it frustrated him to no end.

"Macauley," Kian called, perhaps sensing his agitation. When Macauley met his eyes, Kian's gaze was firm but understanding. "We'll find those men. I promise ye."

"Nay," Macauley said. "I'll find them."

It was his job to keep the castle safe. It was his job to make sure these things didn't happen. After everything was said and done, the blame lay with him and he couldn't help but feel like a failure.

First the attack on Kian, now this! I willnae rest until I find them an' kill them with me own hands.

* * *

From the corner of her eye, Cathleen could see that Deirdre was staring at her. She had been staring ever since the two of them had walked into the drawing room, sitting next to each other on the sofa under the large windows, Cathleen staring out of one of them into the garden as Deirdre pretended to read a book.

It hadn't escaped Cathleen's attention that Deirdre hadn't turned a single page since they had sat there.

Slowly, she turned her head to face her and Deirdre didn't try to hide the fact that she had been staring. Instead, she gave Cathleen a sympathetic smile, closing the book and placing it on the small side table before she reached over to lay her hand over hers.

"Is there anythin' I can dae tae help?" Deirdre asked.

How could Cathleen tell her that the only thing she could do was to offer no support at all? All this sympathy, all this kindness only made her feel worse, nausea gripping her and making it difficult to swallow her own saliva. She had thought that confronting Macauley would be the most difficult thing she would have to do, but now with Deirdre there, it was even worse. At least with Macauley, she had only lied to him. What she was about to do to Deirdre was much worse. She would take her straight to the jaws of the beast and who knew what Faolan would do to her once he had her?

Cathleen could only hope that he would treat her with respect, at least, even if he kept her as a hostage. But what were the chances of that? Faolan was a cruel man and he wouldn't hesitate to hurt Deirdre, as long as he could still use her to bargain.

"Ye have already done so much, Deirdre," Cathleen said. "Ye an' Kian both. I could never thank ye enough fer everythin' ye have done fer me an' fer Bonnie. I ken Kian is lookin' fer her an' that is more than I could ever ask o' ye."

"Cathleen, o' course he's lookin' fer her," Deirdre said. "We wouldnae simply give up. Ye an' Bonnie are a part o' our clan now an' we take care o' our people. We will find her, ye'll see."

There was no stopping the tears that flowed from Cathleen's eyes. All she would have to do was tell the truth, she knew, and Deirdre would be spared. Everyone in the clan would be spared, in fact.

But what would that mean for Bonnie? Before, when Bonnie was still safe within the walls of the Drummond Castle, Cathleen could have told the truth and hoped that the Drummonds would help, but even if they refused to give them any assistance, she and Bonnie could have fled. Now that Faolan had his talons in her, he would not let go and Cathleen couldn't rely on the possibility that Kian would still be kind enough to listen to her and forgive her. If anything, Macauley would most certainly convince him she wasn't worth the effort, furious as he would be that she had lied to him for so long.

No, there was only one way out of this, she knew, and it was doing as Faolan commanded, no matter how much it sickened her.

As if summoned by her thoughts, Macauley suddenly walked into the room. That awkwardness Cathleen wasn't used to seeing on him lingered and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he looked between her and Deirdre, clearing his throat.

"Deirdre… may I have a moment with Cathleen?" he asked.

Nodding, Deirdre was quick to stand and leave the room with one last smile to Cathleen. Once she was gone, Macauley came to sit next to her and placed his hand where Deirdre's had been, just as warm as hers but much larger.

Cathleen tried to focus on those little details, anything to keep her grounded in the moment. The stress was unbearable and her body threatened to buckle under it unless she kept her mind occupied with anything other than Faolan's plan.

"I was only just speakin' with Kian an' the council," he said. "We are all doin' everythin' we can tae find Bonnie an' I promise ye that we will. We'll bring her back safe, Cathleen, I swear tae ye."

Cathleen only nodded, too moved by everyone's efforts to say anything. The tears still flowed from her eyes and Macauley reached over to wipe them gently with his thumb before he pulled Cathleen in his arms.

Once again, she was more selfish than she should have been, allowing her to take all the comfort she could get. She clung to him, her fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt, holding him close, a sob rattling through her when he pressed his lips against hers.

"Quiet now," Macauley said softly. "Dinnae fash. Everythin' will be fine."

For a while, the two of them stayed like that, Macauley whispering reassurances to her as she cried in his arms. Eventually, even her tears dried, though, and Cathleen pulled back, putting some space between them as she regained her composure. Macauley let her, though he didn't quite let go. His hands were still clasped tightly around hers and for a brief moment, Cathleen thought about manacles.

"Cathleen, are ye certain ye dinnae ken who that man was?" Macauley asked, not for the first time.

"How could I ken?" Cathleen said, a hint of anger creeping into her tone, even though Macauley didn't deserve it. She wished he would simply drop the matter, but how could he? It was his duty to find that man, to defeat him before he could hurt the clan even more. "I told ye, I didnae see him. I didnae… I didnae recognize him."

For a moment, Macauley hesitated. Then, he said, "If it is the same man ye fled tae escape, then ye can tell me. I told ye before, I will dae anythin' I can tae help ye. We all will. But we cannae help ye if we dinnae ken who it is."

Briefly, Cathleen considered confirming Macauley's suspicions just so that he would stop questioning her. If she did, though, he and Kian would demand to know who he was and Cathleen wouldn't have anything to tell them. She couldn't give them the truth, after all. She couldn't simply reveal it was all because of Faolan.

"I dinnae ken," she insisted. "If I did, I would tell ye. Why would I keep it a secret?"

Macauley seemed to contemplate her question, but if he had an answer for it, he didn't share it with Cathleen. She could tell that he didn't quite believe her still, that there was still some hesitation as he took a deep breath as if to speak only to then release it and remain quiet.

"Are ye bein' honest with me?" he asked in the end.

There was no room for hesitation. Cathleen had to force herself to nod, as she didn't quite trust her voice to speak without breaking. Macauley nodded too, then, finally believing her and letting go of his line of interrogation.

"Alright," he said. "Alright, then we will simply have tae find another way tae track those men. But we'll find them, Cathleen. I promise. Come now. They're about tae serve dinner."

Cathleen could hardly stomach any food and she doubted anyone would blame her for missing it, especially when she rarely ever ate in the great hall.

"I think I'd rather go tae me quarters," she said quietly.

Macauley, once again, was not easily convinced. "I dinnae want tae leave ye alone. Come. Ye must eat somethin' an' perhaps ye'll feel better if ye're around more people."

Gritting her teeth, Cathleen weighed her options. She could either argue with Macauley and insist that she wanted to go to her quarters alone, which would perhaps serve to drive him away a little, too. But she was too exhausted to argue. All she wanted was to get it all over with as soon as she could and as quietly as she could.

"Fine," she said after a few seconds of silence, standing to follow him to the great hall. The table was already prepared and Cathleen immediately noticed there was a seat ready for her, as well, right next to Macauley. She sat there, her gaze glued to her plate as the servants served the food, picking up the fork in her hand but eating none of what she had been given.

Surely, they wouldn't suspect anything from this. They all knew she was worried about her sister and they couldn't expect her to act as though nothing had happened. It was only when Macauley laid a gentle hand on her shoulder that she slipped, flinching away from him as if his mere touch had burned her. Though Kian was absorbed in a conversation with one of his advisors, both Macauley and Deirdre looked at her with identical frowns, surely suspecting that there was something else going on. Why else would she pull back from Macauley like that, refusing the comfort he provided?

Still, neither of them spoke and Cathleen was grateful for that. Macauley even withdrew his hand and kept it to himself for the rest of the dinner, and he never once spoke a single word afterwards and hardly touched the rest of his food. Across from them, Deirdre was stealing glances at the two of them every now and then, her mouth twisted in a grimace of concern, the delicate bites she took becoming fewer and far in between.

It was the most tense dinner Cathleen had ever had to suffer. She missed her sister. She missed her parents and the fair, peaceful way they ruled their clan. She missed her home, the way it had been before Faolan had taken over.

Most of all, she missed Macauley, even though he was right there, sitting next to her.