Sister of Rogues

by Cynthia Breeding

  Fiona leapt and closed her hands around Kathleen’s neck.

  Kier looked at the women seated around the table in the small dining room. Dulcee looked disheveled, her hair loose from its pins and streaks of dirt on her face where tears had fallen. Kathleen had red marks about her neck. Fiona’s dress was torn, exposing a creamy shoulder marred by bloody scratches from Kathleen’s nails. His gaze went to Fiona’s hands, one folded calmly over the other on top of the table. Small, dainty hands hardly capable of inflicting damage, yet Seamus insisted she’d been throttling Kathleen when he’d managed to pull them apart.

  Kier shook his head. “I find this whole thing hard to believe.”

  “The whore was choking me and trying to kill me!” Kathleen bellowed indignantly. “She belongs in prison.”

  “There is no need to yell,” Kier replied. “We can all hear you. And there will be no more name-calling. Do you understand?”

  Kathleen narrowed her eyes. “Ye always stick up for the…for her.”

  “I am trying to find out what started all of this.” He turned to Fiona. “Were you strangling Kathleen?”

  “I suppose I was.”

  He frowned. “You suppose?”

  “She was hurting Dulcee.”

  “I was not!” Kathleen shouted.

  “I asked you to keep your voice down,” Kier said and turned to Fiona again. “How was Kathleen hurting Dulcee?”

  “She was shaking her senseless.”

  “I hardly touched her.”

  Fiona looked at Kathleen, her grey eyes turning the colour of slate. “Dulcee was slammed up against the wall. In another minute, her skull would have been smashed.”

  “You’re a liar!” Kathleen clenched her fists and started to rise, only to have Ada firmly push her down.

  “Is that what happened, Dulcee?” Kier asked.

  She turned frightened eyes to his, tears starting to fall again.

  “Everything is going to be all right,” he said soothingly. “You do not have to be afraid. Tell me what happened.”

  Dulcee looked at Fiona, who gave her a small nod. “Go ahead.”

  “I…I was talking about Michael.”

  “Who?”

  “Michael. The archangel.” Dulcee sniffled and brushed at her tears. “The one Fiona told me about yesterday—”

  “That’s a fact,” Ada interrupted. “He was in the book.”

  Kier managed to hold back his irritation. Dulcee seldom said more than two or three words at a time and he needed to get to the bottom of this.

  “Are you talking about the book you were looking at in the library yesterday?” Damnation. He should have stayed with them yesterday and today as well, but he hadn’t trusted himself to stop the flirtation with Fiona.

  Dulcee nodded. “Fiona told me that Michael is a protecting angel.” She smiled suddenly, even though tears still glistened. “I think my Calum is with him.”

  Kathleen snorted. “Ye see? That wh…that Scot fills Dulcee’s head with nonsense, and we all know she is a dimwit to begin with.”

  Kier took a deep breath, curbing his rising temper. “If you cannot refrain from calling people names, you will not be allowed to speak.”

  Kathleen glowered at him and crossed her arms over her chest.

  Kier inhaled deeply once more, trying to put the pieces together. According to Seamus, Lona had pushed Kathleen earlier in the garden. “So, Dulcee, you were talking about Michael this afternoon in the garden?” He waited for her to nod and went on. “And then what happened?”

  Her eyes grew big and she started to tremble. “Kathleen called me a dimwit,” Dulcee whispered as she looked at the floor.

  Kier looked over at Seamus. “Is that when Lona pushed her?”

  The man shrugged. “I guess so. I didn’t hear what was said.”

  Kier turned his attention back to Dulcee. “What happened next?”

  Dulcee shook her head, refusing to look up. Kier sighed. He would rather hear the story from Dulcee since she was the victim, but he’d probably gotten all the information he could from her.

  He turned to Kathleen “I am giving you the chance to tell the truth. How did you all end up in the hall fighting?”

  “We weren’t fighting. The wh…the Scot attacked me.”

  Kier bit back a curse he very much wanted to utter. “You are denying you were shaking Dulcee?”

  “All I did was touch her shoulder to get her to stop walking.”

  Kier kept his face impassive. “Fiona?”

  She gave him a direct look. “I already told ye what happened. I’m nae changing my story.”

  “Seamus?”

  The guard shook his head. “After we got Lona to her room, Ada sent me directly down to the garden. When I entered the hall, all I saw was Fiona with her hands around Kathleen’s neck. Dulcee was sitting on the floor, crying.”

  Kier bit back another curse. So there were no real witnesses to what had happened. Basically, it was Fiona’s word against Kathleen’s.

  The situation did not look good. Not good at all.

  Ada delivered the breakfast porridge and toast herself to Fiona’s room the next morning. The matron wore a smirk that only grew wider as she set the tray down and went back to close the door. “Ye have truly done it this time.”

  Fiona stayed in her chair, ignoring the food. “All I did was keep Dulcee’s head from being bashed in.”

  “’Tis not Kathleen’s version.”

  “Kathleen lies.”

  “Does she now?” Ada placed her hands on her wide hips. “’Tis obvious ye have not liked Kathleen from the first day ye got here.”

  “I think ye have that backward,” Fiona retorted. “Kathleen has hated me since I first arrived.”

  “We had no fights before. Ye have been nothing but trouble.”

  Fiona reined in her rising temper. “I would be verra glad to leave and go home.”

  Ada laughed. “Oh, ye will be leaving all right. Just as soon as I make my report to the warden, he will have ye removed from here and taken to the asylum. ’Tis where ye belong anyhow.”

  Fiona stared at her, striving to remain calm even though a chill slid down her spine and her body felt as though it had plunged into ice water. “Mr. O’Reilly will nae allow it.”

  Ada laughed again. “The warden pays your lover to house ye. How long do ye think your wiles and charms will keep ye here if the earl doesn’t receive coin?”

  “That’s nae true.”

  “We will see, won’t we?” Ada turned to go, then stopped and turned around. “I might be persuaded to change my story some.”

  Fiona frowned. “I doona understand.”

  Ada opened the door and looked into the hallway before closing it again. “I could say I wasn’t exactly sure what happened.”

  “Ye were nae there.”

  “Stupid girl. Do ye think that makes any difference? Seamus will say I was.”

  “Seamus dinnae see what happened either!”

  Ada shook her head. “Ye are almost as dense as Dulcee.”

  “Mr. O’Reilly kens ye were nae there.”

  “So he will say.” Ada smiled. “I will tell the warden the man lies to protect ye since ye offer your charms so freely.”

  “My charms?” Fiona felt her face blaze, even though the rest of her felt frozen. “I doona.”

  “Deny it if ye want. Your door gets unlocked. Ye sneak about at night.”

  “What?” Ada couldn’t know about the secret passageway, could she? Fiona’s mind reeled. It wasn’t possible. No…Ada had said the door had been left unlocked. “Ye are lying.”

  Seamus has been watchin’ ye.”

  “The only time he sees me is at lunch or in the garden.”

  “So far.” Ada leered at her. “He wants to see more of
ye. Much more.”

  Fiona stared at her. “What do ye mean?”

  “Ye know what I mean. Ye spread your legs for the earl often enough.”

  Heated rage sliced through the icy slush in Fiona’s veins. She gripped the edges of her chair to keep from attacking the matron. In that moment, Fiona understood exactly why her brothers liked to fight. Nothing would have felt more satisfying than flooring Ada. Aware of the trouble she was already in, Fiona strove to subdue the urge. She had to remain calm. “Ye are mistaken.”

  Ada shrugged. “Say what ye will. Seamus wants to have ye in his bed.”

  “Nae.”

  “He gives fair sport.” Ada gave her an odd look. “Gentler than most.”

  Fiona felt her eyes widen. So what Erin had said was true. The matron and the guard were lovers. Fiona drew her brows together. “If he takes…if ye like him, why are ye doing this?”

  For the first time, Fiona saw the matron’s face soften. Her eyes clouded, as though her mind had taken wings and flown away. And then she inhaled and sharpened her gaze. “Seamus saved me from a working house in Galway.”

  Fiona’s mouth opened and closed of its own accord. Houses of Industry were little more than prisons. Had the woman been subject to even worse conditions than Fiona was in?

  Ada reached into her pocket for a piece of paper that she laid on the table and turned toward the door. “I will give ye until lunch to reconsider. If your answer is yes, slip the paper under the door.”

  Then she was gone.

  Fiona picked up the paper with trembling fingers and turned it over. Only one word was written on it. Yes.

  Crumbling the paper, she threw it on the floor. A few minutes later, she retrieved it and straightened the wrinkles. Kier had told her to trust him—that he wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. Fiona had to talk to him. Had to show him this. Had to get him to believe her.

  She doubted any of the women would be allowed in the dining room after what had happened, but when Erin came for the breakfast tray, somehow Fiona would persuade her that she had to talk to Mr. O’Reilly.

  She waited. When her stomach began rumbling, signaling lunch, she began to wonder if the meal was even going to be brought. Just as she thought Ada might be withholding food as a means to get Fiona to slip that damnable paper under the door, Erin arrived with bread and cheese. She looked worried.

  “Kathleen is telling lies and Ada is angry at ye.”

  “I ken.” Fiona knew the real reason Ada was angry didn’t have anything to do with Kathleen, but it wasn’t something she could share with Erin.

  “I will come back for the plate later,” the maid said, “and let ye know what is being said.”

  “Thank ye. I appreciate that.”

  The sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows down the crooked road behind the castle when finally the lock turned and Erin appeared in the doorway. Her face was flushed as though she’d run up the steps, her eyes wild as a spooked horse and she gestured haphazardly.

  Fiona rushed to her side. “What is it? What is wrong?”

  Erin gasped, trying to take in air. “I…they…it…”

  “Slow down,” Fiona rubbed Erin’s shoulder lightly. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Erin looked at her tearfully. “The warden’s downstairs with two guards. Mr. O’Reilly is yelling—I never heard him do that before—but I think…I think the warden’s come to take ye away.”

  Kier was not particularly surprised when Warden Kelly was ushered into the library late that afternoon. He’d expected to have to make a report on the incident since Ada had gone to the asylum an hour ago, but he hadn’t thought two guards would accompany the warden. The hair at the nape of Kier’s neck bristled.

  “Please sit down,” he said, gesturing to a chair on the other side of the desk and then glanced at Seamus and the other guards. “You can wait in the hall.”

  Seamus looked as if to argue but then thought better of it, nodded and took the other two men with him.

  The warden glanced at the paper he’d brought in. “I understand Fiona MacLeod threatened to kill Kathleen Butler this morning.”

  “I believe that is an overstatement,” Kier said. “An altercation took place earlier in the garden that included name-calling. Kathleen followed Dulcee Donnan inside and grabbed hold of her.”

  The warden frowned. “I don’t have that in my notes.”

  “Well, I have it in my notes. Mrs. MacLeod intervened to prevent serious injury to Mrs. Donnan.”

  “No one witnessed Mrs. Butler attacking Mrs. Donnan,” the warden said. “Why would you believe Mrs. MacLeod’s story?”

  “Because I have no reason not to believe her.”

  Warden Kelly glanced down again. “According to the matron, Mrs. MacLeod has a history of violence since she arrived, which includes pushing Ada as well as throwing water at Mrs. Butler. On another occasion, Mrs. MacLeod jabbed Mrs. Butler and tried to initiate another fight.”

  Kier felt his temper rising at Ada’s obviously one-sided version, but he kept his voice calm. “Those facts are somewhat distorted. Mrs. Butler tends to provoke such incidents. In any case, their privileges were taken away when the incidents occurred.”

  Mr. Kelly gave him a stern look. “That does not excuse pushing the matron. She is in authority of the inmates.”

  Kier bit back a retort, although anger was steadily building. “Since this is my home, I am the one in authority.”

  “To a degree. Mrs. MacLeod is a ward of the asylum.” The warden sat back and observed Kier. “Ada mentioned that you seemed to take a personal interest in Mrs. MacLeod. I’ll admit the woman is lovely, but don’t let her charms dissuade you from upholding your duty.”

  By St. Patrick. Kier’s fists balled beneath the desk. What kind of lies had Ada been spreading? He clenched his jaw and then forcibly loosed it. “My duty is to keep each of my guests safe.”

  Kelly looked skeptical. “Mrs. Butler was almost strangled today.”

  “Because she was about to smash Mrs. Donnan’s head against the wall!”

  “According to Mrs. MacLeod. No one else witnessed that part.”

  “Hellfire and damnation. According to one of the maids, Mrs. Donnan’s arms were bruised. Is that not proof enough?”

  “Even so, it seems violence has been erupting since Mrs. MacLeod was placed here.” The warden folded his notes and stuck them inside his shirt. “I have decided it would be better for everyone involved if Mrs. MacLeod were transferred to the main building. We have a bed available.”

  Kier lowered his brows. “No.”

  The warden raised his. “No?”

  “No. Mrs. MacLeod is not leaving here.”

  “With all due respect, the matter is out of your hands.” Warden Kelly rose and went to the door. “My guards will escort her now.”

  “They will not! You and your guards need to leave.”

  Kelly turned in the doorway. “Regardless of how you think of her, Mrs. MacLeod is an inmate committed to the Dublin Lunatic Asylum, and I am within my rights—it is my responsibility—to ensure she doesn’t harm others. Unless you want to be arrested for interfering with my duty, you will allow me to proceed.” The warden didn’t wait for an answer, only gestured to his two guards to follow him while Seamus led the way toward the stairs.

  Seething, Kier followed them, feeling as powerless as he had when he found his mother dead. Short of physically striking all four men down, which wouldn’t help Fiona, there wasn’t anything Kier could do at the moment. He’d have to let her go. Tomorrow morning, he would hire a solicitor to plead his case and he’d send another post to the MacLeod clan at Carlisle. Maybe the other letter had gotten lost. If her brothers existed, he could use their help.

  Lost in how he would word the letter, he nearly bumped into the warden coming out of Fiona’s room. The man narrowe
d his eyes.

  “What?”

  “Where is she?”

  Kier frowned. “What do you mean? She’s confined to her room.”

  “She is not here.”

  Kier pushed past him into the room. The room was empty. Fiona was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Fiona slipped out the postern door of the locked tower room and stood near the castle wall, breathing in the damp air that threatened rain. For the moment, she was free.

  She looked down the narrow street leading away from the castle and tried to remember its placement on the map. The convent was to the west of the castle, which meant she needed to turn right, but there wasn’t a road in that direction. She’d just have to take the first intersection she came to. Fiona glanced up at the windows along the back wall. She wasn’t sure if Kathleen’s chamber faced this direction, but she prayed no one was looking out just now. Pulling her shawl over her head, Fiona began walking.

  A part of her wanted to look back. She was leaving Kier, and that thought filled her with sadness even though she knew she had no other choice. Erin had said he’d shouted at the warden, which meant Kier was not able to keep her safe any longer. Turning around to look would be folly though. Someone might be watching. Straightening her shoulders, Fiona hurried on, sticking close to the shadows the buildings lent the road.

  As she walked, she thought about the offer Erin had made to help her. The maid had said she’d leave the door unlocked and make sure the door leading out of the kitchens was open as well. She’d even tried to give Fiona the small leather bag of coin she kept in her pocket—her salary, no doubt. Fiona had handed it back, along with thanks, but told Erin that they must trust Mr. O’Reilly to work this out. Fiona couldn’t tell Erin about the passageway and the last thing she wanted was for the maid to be blamed for helping her escape. Fiona was all too aware of the revenge Ada would take.

  After several blocks, Fiona came to a wider street that intersected the one she was on. Several public houses opened onto narrow sidewalks and the smells of roasting meat and cabbage soup wafting out reminded Fiona she’d only had bread and cheese earlier, but she had no time to tarry. In any event, there were several men standing about as well.