Chapter 17

17

" M istress Keira, milady."

Dougie strode up to the two women in the courtyard as they were going toward the stables to go for a ride. His eyes lingered a moment longer on Adaira, and Keira's womanly intuition did not miss the tiny smile, a mere twitch of the lips, that she sent back to him.

He bowed. "Murdoch has asked me if you are both well?" he asked. "He is very anxious about both o' ye."

"Yes, we are," Keira took his arm, then led him onto the staircase, where they climbed slowly as they talked. "I have a plan, but the word must spread very quickly because I do not wish to leave anyone behind. The laird is going to come and question you soon. I have put as many obstacles in his way as I can by keeping him very busy and having a lot of visitors in to see him, and not always welcome ones." She grinned, then her face became solemn again. "Let me tell you what I have in mind."

By this time, they had reached the first tier of turrets, and while Keira stood on one side of him, Adaira stood on the other, so close that their bodies were almost touching.

As Keira explained her plan, Dougie listened and nodded, occasionally nodding and asking some questions, then he frowned.

"How long dae I have tae dae this, mistress?" he asked, frowning.

"One day," Keira told him.

"One day?" Dougie's normally deep voice was a squeak.

Keira nodded firmly. "You know how fast servants' gossip spreads?"

He nodded.

Keira went on. "That is how we will spread it: by word of mouth. Take some of your most trusted men and make it spread even faster. Tell it to all the crofters and have them tell it to their friends. Before long, it will be everywhere."

"What if we get to the ears of the wrong people?" Dougie asked anxiously.

"Most of the guards are with you, are they not?" Keira raised her eyebrows in a question.

"Aye," he replied.

"I am quite sure there are enough of you to deal with any who try to stop us." Keira was confident. "Now, should you not be on your way?"

Bemused, Dougie looked at her, saluted, and walked away, and Keira watched her friend follow him with her eyes. They were enormously sad.

"You can always get an annulment of your marriage to my father," Keira said gently. "Dougie would make a fine husband."

"He would," Adaira agreed. "And if our plan does not work, we will elope."

"But you would still be married to my father!" Keira cried.

"No one will know that," Adaira pointed out. "I love Dougie. He means the world to me, and I cannot live with your father any longer."

"Can you try the legal way first?" Keira asked. "I would not like to see you both shamed and disgraced."

"Of course," Adaira replied, "but we will have to be out of this castle first, and I will not mind if I never see the place again!"

Dinner, as usual, was an icily polite affair. That evening the cook, Mrs. Donnelly, had made one of her famous duck pies but had obeyed Keira's instructions and made a small adjustment to the recipe. A mixture of the herb dwale, with alcohol and a few other ingredients, was added to the laird's portion of the pie.

The ladies watched as he slowly drifted off to sleep. They could have achieved the same effect with whiskey, but not so quickly. The laird knew exactly what was happening to him just before he passed out since he roundly cursed both of them, but he could do nothing about it. In a few more moments he was soundly asleep, and the two women took a moment to gaze at him while they finished their pie in a leisurely fashion.

"He is drooling," Adaira observed, as a small pool of saliva began to spread over the table. Then she giggled and clapped her hands gleefully.

"So he is," Keira agreed, then she laughed, too, and in a moment they were indulging in a fit of laughter that neither of them could stop.

"Look at him!" Keira was pointing to the laird's wine glass, which had tipped over and was coloring his cheek a fetching shade of burgundy and dripping onto his white shirt, which was the same color.

"Let him dribble and drip," Adaira said cuttingly. "I hope I never see him again."

Keira was shocked at the bitterness in her friend's voice, but she knew her father. If he had given Adaira the same kind of treatment he had meted out to her mother, she would have felt exactly the same.

"One last drink," Keira said as she poured a glass of wine for them both. "To us, Adaira. May we both find happiness. Sláinte Mhath!"

"Sláinte Mhath!" Adaira said, smiling widely. "Goodbye, Archie."

Then she stopped, and in one last act of charity, she righted his wine glass before they both left, making straight for the dungeons.

When they tiptoed down to the gates leading to the dungeon, Keira produced the replica keys.

Adaira looked at them in astonishment. "Where did you get these?" she whispered.

"I had them made a while ago," Keira answered. "I don't know why, but I had a feeling we might need them."

Adaira stared at her, shaking her head, then she grinned. "I should have known!"

However, they were surprised when they reached the gates to the dungeons to find that they did not need them since Dougie was there instead of the guards. His eyes lit up as he saw them, and once more they lingered a little too long on Adaira, but this time she threw herself into his arms for a joyful hug.

"Where are the jailers?" Keira asked, puzzled.

"Most o' them have joined our cause," Dougie replied as he led them to the cells where the rebels were being held.

Most of the cells had been unlocked already, and the men were streaming down the passageway. Many of them greeted the ladies by name, some shook their hands, and some patted them on the shoulder, but they all thanked them.

Murdoch came out last of all. He felt like a thirsty man who had just found a clear mountain stream as he gazed at Keira greedily, drinking in her beauty. It had only been days since he had last seen her, but already it felt like a lifetime. He longed to run his fingers over and through her tumbling auburn hair and kiss her soft lips, and as his gaze fell on her blue eyes, he could not help smiling. If she would have him, he would never go anywhere without her again.

Keira stood in front of him to stop him from walking any further, then tilted her face up to him. The rest of the rebels had gone ahead of her, and the corridor was slowly emptying out until, at last, they were the only people standing there.

"I have missed you," he whispered. "So much."

"As I have missed you," Keira whispered.

A moment later, his lips were on hers, her body pressed against his as they kissed each other with a hunger born of desperate need.

At last, she drew away reluctantly. "Time to go," she said urgently as she took his hand and pulled him behind her.

"Go where?" he asked, frowning.

"I will show you," Keira replied.

When they emerged into the courtyard, they found it crowded with wagons, horses, and people loading their worldly goods into them. Children and pet dogs were running around getting in everyone's way, but no one minded because there was a general air of festivity about the place. Cheerful calls, laughter, and jokes were flying around in the air, and as they watched, they saw a young man and woman embracing. They had obviously just become betrothed, and it seemed like a good omen for the future of their new clan.

Keira went forward and tied her scarf loosely around their wrists, then smiled at them both. "Bless you, and I wish you every happiness."

"Thank ye, mistress," the young woman said with a radiant smile. "An' bless ye too."

Keira walked back to Murdoch, feeling a glow of happiness inside her. "This," Keira informed him with a sweep of her arm, "is our new family. These are the people who have decided to come with us to build our new clan by the sea."

Murdoch stared at her in disbelief. "You are uprooting all these people?" he asked.

"No," Keira replied, shaking her head. "They are coming because they want to. No one is being forced. There are plenty of farmers who will stay on their land, but they can come to our settlement any time they wish."

"All these people?" he asked doubtfully. "But where are we going?"

"To a place I have known since I was a child," she replied. "It belonged to an old clan whose name has passed into history, and my family—my own family—took over the ownership of it with permission of the king, so it belongs to me."

"How far away is it?" he asked, frowning.

"About ten miles or so," she answered, "but bear in mind that we are taking wagonloads of goods and chattels, sheep, cows, and whole families. It will take a few days."

Murdoch smiled and rolled up his sleeves. "I had better start now, then," he said in a determined voice, grinning at her. He went over to an old woman who was having great difficulty loading her possessions onto her cart and, after he had gently moved her away, began to lift her furniture and ornaments effortlessly. The old lady looked on in awe.

Keira watched, admiring the play of Murdoch's muscles as he worked, then she tore her gaze away from him and began to throw herself into the fray, lifting, carrying, and lending a hand wherever she was needed. Two hours later, everyone's goods had been loaded, and the wagons had begun to roll off the drawbridge onto the green meadows below the castle.

Suddenly there was a howl from behind them, and the laird dashed out of the castle, brandishing a sword as he ran toward Murdoch, screaming like a banshee.

"You!" he yelled. "You swine! Where are my servants? Where is my wife, you traitor?"

He slid to a halt, his whole body trembling with rage as he glared at his captain.

"Your servants are where they want to be," Murdoch said calmly. "And so is your wife."

Dougie stepped out of the crowd, holding Adaira by the hand.

"This is where I want to be," she said solemnly. "By the side of my one true love."

The laird glared at her. His mouth opened and closed a few times but no sound came out. Then, suddenly, he swerved around and faced Murdoch, who was unarmed.

"You traitorous piece of slime," he snarled. "Do you have the courage to take me on, man to man?"

Keira's heart jumped into her mouth, and she opened her mouth to protest, but a look from Murdoch silenced her.

"Of course I do, M'Laird," he replied mildly, accepting the sword that Dougie gave him.

Archie McTavish rushed at him before he was ready, but Murdoch blocked his thrust and twisted the laird's sword around so that his blade was positioned to swipe across McTavish's body, which he did. However, the laird was quicker than he thought and jumped backward before thrusting at Murdoch again, and it soon became clear that they were very evenly matched.

The bout went on and on without any sign of a winner, but the laird was older, and it soon became clear that he was tiring as his thrusts became less powerful and he was less able to move out of Murdoch's way.

Murdoch had no stomach for a fight to the death, so he called out to the laird.

"This is pointless, M'Laird. Let us consider honor satisfied."

Murdoch, expecting McTavish to agree, had let his guard down, so when McTavish charged at him again, he was not ready.

Murdoch stepped aside, but the laird's sword struck him with a glancing blow on the arm. He raised the injured limb, but he still had enough strength to bring his sword down on the back of the laird's neck with some force, and he knew before he hit the ground that McTavish was dead.

Murdoch stood up, shuddering with shock, at the same time as Adaira crouched down to bend over the corpse of her husband. She felt his neck to make sure that he was dead, then looked up and shook her head.

"He is gone," she said gently.

Keira knew she should have been sorrowful. This man had given her life, after all, but instead she felt nothing. He had killed her mother, and the only emotion she felt was gratitude to Murdoch for taking him away.

"I didn't want to kill him," Murdoch said huskily, passing his hands over his eyes. "I-I am sorry, Keira. Please forgive me."

Keira stepped into his arms. "There is nothing to forgive, sweetheart." She tilted his head to look him in the eyes. "You are the better man, and I love you."

"Even now?" His voice was husky, his eyes glittered with unshed tears.

"Even now," she replied, kissing him.