“Gay, the twins? Alice?” Ilsa asked, fighting to calm herself even as fear twisted her insides into tight knots.
“Gone,” Gay replied. “They took them.”
“They? Who are they?”
“The maid I was with and Geordie.”
Ilsa nearly cried out in dismay. She had been so close to Geordie, might have been able to stop him. Instead, she had just been disgruntled over wasting so much time following him to a tryst. Or so she had thought. Ilsa now suspected that what she had seen had been a final meeting before the enacting of this heinous plot to steal her children. She had to take several deep breaths before she was calm enough to speak again.
“Gay, I need ye to tell me exactly what happened,” Ilsa said, taking her friend’s hand in hers while Fraser placed an arm around Gay’s slender shoulders.
“I thought it would be nice to bring the bairns out into the sun for a wee while. I looked for ye, but couldnae find ye anywhere. Where did ye go?” asked Gay.
“I will tell ye in a wee while. Your tale is far more important.”
“Twas odd now that I think upon it, but suddenly Lucy was there. She started talking about taking the bairns into the garden, how her old mother always thought a wee bit of sun was good for the wee ones. Weel, since I was planning to do that anyway, I thought her appearing was most convenient.”
“Aye, too convenient,” muttered Glenda.
Ilsa nodded. “I fear so. A plot and our Gay didnae e’en have to be tricked into playing along. Lucy probably couldnae believe her good fortune. Go on, Gay.”
“We fetched the bairns,” said Gay. “Alice wanted to come, too, and of course I said she could. For a brief moment I got the feeling Lucy wasnae pleased about that, but she was already smiling and chattering again so my uneasiness faded. We couldnae have been in the gardens verra long when I was grabbed from behind.”
Knowing what fears must have risen up inside of Gay, Ilsa was not surprised when her friend shuddered. She tightened her clasp upon Gay’s hand a little, silently offering her the courage to continue. Fraser tightened her arm around Gay’s shoulders slightly as well, giving the girl a small hug.
Gay took several deep breaths before she could continue. “Lucy had been standing verra close to Alice and she had the poor wee lass gagged and bound verra quickly. The mon who gagged and bound me then set me down here and looked at me. He was masked, but I kenned who it was. I recognized his voice, his size, the wee scar by his mouth, and his hands. Geordie has big, strong hands with large knuckles and thick tufts of hair on the backs of his fingers. Aye, twas Geordie.”
Either Gay had a naturally keen eye or she had been carefully studying everyone at Clachthrom. “Did they, did they hurt the children, Gay?”
“Nay. Geordie said ye must come to a wee cottage,” she pulled a piece of paper from inside her bodice, “and he has left ye a map. He wants ye there within an hour after the sun starts to set. If ye dinnae appear ere the sun finishes setting, the bairns and wee Alice will be killed. He says they will be killed if anyone follows ye, too.”
After looking at the map, Ilsa cursed. “I ken where this cottage is. I was there today.” She nodded at the shock on the faces of the three women. “I saw Geordie in the garden, saw him from my bedchamber window. He walked toward the wall then, weel, disappeared.”
“Tis just what he did this time. I kept twisting about to watch him and Lucy. They went to the old apple tree then they were gone. I couldnae see how or to where.”
“There is a wee door set in the wall. I followed Geordie. He has a sturdy wee pony stabled nay far from here. He rode to this cottage to meet with a woman. Since he kissed her and then disappeared into the cottage for about an hour, I decided it was naught but a tryst. Now I ken different. I was so close. I could have done something to prevent all of this.”
“What? Charged the cottage bellowing fierce war cries and slashed the mon with your eating knife?” said Glenda.
Ilsa blinked in surprise over the sharp tone of Glenda’s voice then sighed as she recognized the truth behind her words. Even if she had guessed that the man and his lover were plotting against her, she could not have done anything at that time. She had been alone and unarmed. By the time she had returned to Clachthrom, her children had been taken from her. She could have returned faster, but, since she had had no idea that a threat to her children loomed, there had been no reason to exhaust herself by trying to beat Geordie back to Clachthrom.
“Who was this woman he was meeting?” asked Fraser.
“I ne’er saw her,” replied Ilsa. “She greeted him at the door, but she was weel concealed by a cloak, the hood pulled up o’er her head and shadowing her features. Twas the same when Geordie left.”
“Which would seem to imply that she doesnae wish to risk being seen by anyone, that she kens she will be easily recognized by everyone at Clachthrom.”
“I will ken who the bitch is verra soon,” said Ilsa as she stood and helped Gay to her feet.
“Ye are nay thinking of going there alone, are ye?” asked Fraser as she and Glenda also stood.
“That is what has been demanded,” replied Ilsa. “If I do anything else, I will risk the lives of my children. I cannae do that.”
“Ilsa, they want ye dead.”
“I ken it, but what choice do I have? The twins are so wee they cannae do anything more than cry until they make a person’s head ache, and Alice is but a tiny lass of three. They cannae help themselves. They would be as easy to slaughter as a day-old lamb. I have to go.”
“I am sure the men would ken how to follow ye so that no one would see them.”
“Probably, but I have seen the cottage, Fraser. Tis set in a verra open area. Aye, they could get close, but those last yards hold nary a rock for them to hide behind. They would be seen as they made the last rush to the place. Mayhap they could stop the killing of one or two of the bairns, but I am sure our enemies would have time to cut the wee throat of at least one, if nay all of them.” She nodded when the women cursed.
“This will give them a verra large victory,” said Glenda.
“Nay as big as they think,” said Ilsa. “Despite his attempt to hide his face, Geordie was recognized. The traitor has been found. E’en better, he doesnae ken that he has been uncovered. Through him, Diarmot can find his enemy.”
“Before or after he buries ye?” snapped Fraser.
“I am nay a day-old lamb, Fraser,” Ilsa said as she started toward the keep, needing to gather a few things before she went to the cottage. “I willnae be so verra easy to kill. The woman isnae a great threat, I am thinking,” she continued as the three women hurried to follow her. “She has done none of this herself. She hires men. Tis Geordie I must worry about.”
“I ken what ye are thinking, that ye have no choice, but shouldnae ye at least take a wee moment or two to try and think of one?” asked Glenda.
“I havenae got a moment or two,” replied Ilsa.
The women all followed Ilsa into her bedchamber. She could hear them whispering amongst themselves as she collected up three daggers and hid them as carefully as she could on her person. She also slipped a packet of strong herbs into the little pouch at her waist. If the opportunity arose, they would serve well to temporarily blind her opponent.
“Ilsa, I cannae like this,” said Fraser.
“I have nay choice,” she repeated. “Ye ken that. Ye must. Now, if Nanty returns, I cannae stop ye from telling him, but I would ask that ye use careful judgment. If he returns ere I have e’en gone o’er the rise, that would be too soon. He would hie out after me and then the game would be lost. Instead of the chance of burying me, we will all be standing o’er the graves of my children.”
“Do ye really think ye can fight these people?”
“I grew up surrounded by brothers and male cousins. I am nay some sweet, gentle maid. I may be small and slender, but I can be verra vicious, e’en dangerous. If luck is with me, aye, I have a chance of defeating these pigs
. It will all depend upon how the children are held. If there is an actual knife held to the throat of one of them, that will cause me to hesitate to act.”
“Mayhap just one mon,” began Gay as she joined Fraser and Glenda in following Ilsa back to the garden.
“Once I am there, once I appear to have obeyed their commands, I think there is a chance someone could get near the cottage unseen. I can keep all eyes upon me. Dinnae tell me what ye are planning now that I have said that,” she added quickly when Fraser opened her mouth to speak. “I dinnae want to ken. All the way to the cottage all I will be able to think of is that plan and how terribly wrong it could go. Once I am at the cottage, I will make sure the ones there have all their attention upon me. Tis all I can do.” She paused at the little door which led out of the garden and kissed each of her three friends. “Remember to tell Nanty about the door here, and about Geordie.”
“And Lucy,” said Gay. “She is the other traitor.”
“I dinnae think we will need to worry about Lucy.”
Fraser frowned after Ilsa slipped out through the hidden door then started back to the keep with the other two women. “I dinnae like this. I understand there isnae much choice, but I still cannae like this.”
“Nay,” agreed Glenda. “There must be some trick the men have that would help Ilsa and the bairns. Yet, if we say anything about this, they willnae be heeding us about the dangers or risks. Once we tell anyone, the matter will be completely out of our control. I wouldnae be able to stop worrying that, instead of helping Ilsa and the bairns, we have helped to kill them.”
Gay suddenly cursed. “I dinnae think it matters. Ilsa didnae return the map to the cottage.”
“She did that apurpose,” said Fraser, and sighed heavily as they entered the nursery. “We can tell anyone we please what has happened, but it willnae do any good if we cannae tell them where it is happening.” She frowned as she studied the too quiet group of children near the fireplace. “Where is Odo?”
“He went to the garderobe,” Ivy replied.
The way the girl could not look straight at Fraser told the woman she was lying. “Ivy, I ask ye again, where is Odo?”
“He went to see what was happening in the garden,” she replied.
“I didnae see him.”
“He was there. Then ye left, but he didnae. He was looking all about the garden. When ye came back, he hid. We didnae see him again until Ilsa left and then ye started to come back here. We saw him walk into the wall just like Ilsa did.”
“That boy has followed her,” said Glenda, shaking her head.
“I will get Jenny and we will go after him,” said Gay.
“Nay, ye cannae. That wee boy can probably follow a flea from bed to bed in a monastery. He will be able to find his way back here. And if he is seen, I dinnae think Geordie or his allies will think much of it.” Fraser shook her head. “He willnae be seen. Howbeit, several adults running about trying to find the lad will be seen, and heard. Geordie could think it a trick, a threat. Nay, let the boy go.”
“Are ye sure, Fraser? He is but five.”
“Near six. Letting him run about the land alone isnae safe; I ken it. Yet, he has a natural skill. Tis probably only a wee danger for him, but he could help us pull Ilsa and the bairns out of a far greater one. He saved her before, didnae he.”
“Aye, he did. I but pray he is as good as ye believe he is, that he can help us save Ilsa and the bairns. Then all we shall have to worry about is how to explain to Ilsa that we allowed one of her precious bairns to run about alone.”
Fraser grimaced. “And explain it in a way that eases her first inclination.”
“Which would be?” asked Glenda.
“Rather bloodthirsty, I fear.”
“Oh, dear.”
Chapter NINETEEN
A faint rustling in the brush behind her made Ilsa jump. She searched the area behind her and to either side, but could see nothing. Sternly telling herself she was allowing her fears to disorder her mind, she strode into the clearing surrounding the cottage. She used the walk to calm herself, to push all her fears down, deep inside of herself. If she was to have any chance at all of saving the children or herself, she was going to have to be cold-blooded and clear-headed.
There was a part of her that was already coldly determined, the part that wanted these people dead. It was a ruthless, vengeful part. These people had threatened her children, callously endangered the lives of innocent bairns. There was no mercy in her heart for them. If she got a chance to kill them, she would not hesitate. It might appall her later, but she suspected she would find all the comfort she needed every time she saw her bairns smile.
Just as she reached the door, it was flung open, and Ilsa came face-to-face with Geordie’s lover. The woman wore no concealing cloak now. Ilsa was shocked, but did her best to hide it as she met Margaret Campbell’s ice-cold gaze. Those pale blue eyes were not empty now. They glittered with fury, a touch of triumph, and what Ilsa suspected was madness. She had the fleeting thought that she would have to tell Gillyanne she had been right about that anger.
It all made sense now. Margaret was Anabelle’s Precious Love. Diarmot would certainly have found peace with this woman, the peace of the grave.
The fact that no one was guarding the approach to the cottage suddenly occured to Ilsa. Margaret had obviously been watching for her, but Geordie was not at the window watching for anyone else. They had believed she would do exactly as they had commanded and had apparently not planned for any other contingency. Ilsa dearly wished she had known that. She would have brought an army with her.
“Greetings, Ilsa Cameron,” said Margaret, speaking loudly so that she could be heard over Finlay’s wailing.
“I believe I am Ilsa MacEnroy now or have ye chosen to ignore that as thoroughly as ye have ignored all good sense and reason?” asked Ilsa, fighting the urge to run to her child.
“I dinnae need to acknowledge something that will prove to be so verra short-lived.” She stepped to the side. “Do come in.”
Although it was tempting to stick one of her daggers in Margaret as she stood there so exposed and vulnerable, Ilsa resisted the urge. She walked into the cottage and briefly looked around, taking note of where everything and everyone was, just as Sigimor had taught her. Alice sat on the small bed, Cearnach lying on her right. She rubbed his back as she watched Lucy try to calm a screaming Finlay. Geordie sat at a small table drinking ale and eating oatcakes, occasionally glaring toward Lucy and Finlay.
Margaret slammed the door and also glared at Lucy. “Cannae ye shut that brat up?”
“Mayhap he is hungry,” Lucy said.
“Mayhap he just doesnae like ye touching him,” murmured Ilsa as she walked toward Lucy and took Finlay into her arms.
The baby’s crying shuddered to a halt. Ilsa ignored the surprise Lucy, Geordie, and Margaret could not hide and rubbed Finlay’s little back until he was breathing more evenly. She almost smiled as, once Lucy moved away, she set Finlay down next to Alice, for she was now between the children and the ones who wished to hurt them. It was obvious that they did not consider her any more of a threat than the children. Sigimor would find that very amusing.
“Weel, tis plain to see that ye arenae much use,” Margaret said, frowning at Lucy.
Ilsa realized what was happening barely in time to cover Alice’s eyes. Lucy had sat down next to Geordie. The moment Margaret spoke, the maid began to look uneasy. Margaret gave Geordie one long, hard look. He shrugged, wrapped his big hands around Lucy’s neck and, before the girl could even gasp, he snapped her neck. Lucy’s body slipped to the floor and he calmly went back to eating and drinking.
When Margaret idly poured herself a goblet of wine, Ilsa shivered. The complete lack of emotion the pair revealed as they had executed the maid was chilling. Lucy had served her purpose and they had tossed her aside with the ease of a diner casting a bone to the hounds.
These were not people who could be reasoned with, Ils
a decided as she took her hand from Alice’s eyes, and rubbed the trembling child’s back. Alice may not have seen the killing, but, young as she was, she had the wit to know what had just happened. It was an ugliness Ilsa could not shield her from now. There were far more important matters to deal with than Alice’s tears. Ilsa could only pray she would have the chance to dry them later.
“Would ye like some wine?” Margaret asked Ilsa and she smiled faintly.
“Nay, thank ye,” Ilsa replied. “I have tasted your wines before; and found them too bitter.” She noticed that Geordie paused in drinking his ale.
“Margaret?” he growled.
Margaret looked at him and sighed. “Geordie, ye wound me. I could ne’er have succeeded as weel as I have without your help and devotion. Do ye truly think I would reward that with a cup of poison?”
Geordie studied her for a moment, then returned to drinking his ale. Ilsa had to wonder if the man was so certain of his own charm he could not believe his lover would harm him, or if he was just lacking in wit. The fact that those who helped Margaret tended to end up dead should at least make him wary.
“Alice looks a great deal like her mother,” Margaret said as she studied the child. She took a step toward Alice, but hastily stepped back again when Finlay began to whimper. “What is wrong with that bairn?”
Finlay quieted the moment Margaret stepped back and Ilsa shrugged. “I would guess that he doesnae like ye.”
“Dinnae be ridiculous. He didnae cry when he was taken from the garden.”
“Aye, he did,” said Alice and she briefly glared at Geordie, “but Geordie gagged him. Near choked my brother to death in the doing of it, the swine.”
“Hush your mouth, lass, ere I silence ye myself,” growled Geordie. “I dinnae need to tolerate impudence from some whore’s wee bastard.”
Ilsa saw Margaret pale slightly and realized it was fury which caused that look. “’Ware, Geordie. Ye shouldnae speak of Lady Anabelle that way.”
“What do ye care? The laird’s first wife is naught to ye,” he said.
Highland Groom Page 24
