Sword Dance

by Marie Laval

  ‘I heard him talk to Morven a few days ago.’

  Morag stepped towards Rose. ‘Come on then, lass, there is no time to spare. We must go to the Lodge at once. My time has come anyway. She’s waiting for me.’

  ‘Who is waiting?’

  ‘The Dark Lady. She wants me dead. She knows I killed Bonnie. I keep seeing her, everywhere.’ Morag’s lips hardly moved as she spoke.

  ‘Nonsense! There is no such thing as the Dark Lady. It’s late and you’re exhausted. I’m taking back to bed now.’ Mrs Fraser took hold of Morag’s arm and pulled her towards the door.

  ‘Mrs Fraser is right, Morag,’ Rose started. ‘It’s far too cold and dangerous for you to go out now. I’ll get the letter, but first you must tell me about the tunnels.’

  Chapter Eight

  After leaving her horse in a barn at the end of the village, Rose started along the cliff track. A wall of fog rose from the sea, swallowing everything in its path, even the sounds of the waves crashing on the rocks. Up on the cliff the Lodge cut a bleak silhouette with its thick walls and the beacon blazing on top of the tower. Lights blinking at several windows indicated that there were people inside, but the cliff top was deserted, with no sign of Wallace’s or Morven’s men.

  She walked past the landmark Morag had indicated – a derelict bothy standing a mere fifty paces from the cliff edge next to a scrawny, twisted tree – and took a few tentative steps towards the edge of the cliff. The track seemed to disappear into the void and she could see no further than the first few yards. Her fingers gripped coarse plants that sprouted out of the rock face as she started down the cliff.

  Morag’s words still rang in her ears. ‘Follow the path until you come upon a gap in the rocks, a recess large enough for you to sneak into. The passage was kept clear over the years. It shouldn’t be too hard to get to the Lodge’s cellars.’

  When she reached the opening Morag had described, she pulled a candle and a box of fuzees out of her pocket and struck a match to ignite the wick. Her breath steamed in front of her as she started into the narrow passage. At once the damp air seeped through her clothing and the cold made her hand shake so much the flame threw strange shadows on the rocky walls.

  Even though the tunnel was clear of any obstructions, the uneven ground made her progress difficult and it felt like a long time before she reached a flight of stairs carved into the rock. She blew the candle out and proceeded to haul herself up through an opening leading into the cellars. Still following Morag’s instructions, she counted thirty paces before forking right into the basement where another flight of stairs crept up into the kitchens. At last she was inside the Lodge.

  The kitchens were empty, but a smouldering fire in the hearth, together with several half-eaten loaves of bread, and plates filled with what looked like congealed broth on the table, indicated that people had left in great haste.

  Rose held her breath as she tiptoed out of the kitchen. Angry male voices – among them Cameron’s and Morven’s – could be heard at the far end of the corridor. Fearful of bumping into Cameron’s men, Rose carried on along the dark passage until she was outside the drawing room.

  She almost went limp with relief when she heard Bruce speak. Thank goodness he was alive… but what was he was talking about? Something about Malika, about hurting and killing her, and about standing trial for his crimes?

  She pressed her hand against her mouth and shook her head from side to side. No! It wasn’t true, it couldn’t be true! Without thinking, she flew into the room.

  Rose? Was she really here or was it another hallucination?

  But no, it wasn’t a dream! Clumsily, Bruce rose to his feet. He had to protect her, shield her from McRae and his henchman. He wasn't fast enough.

  Morven pushed him back into the armchair and pointed the barrel of his pistol at his forehead. ‘I wouldn’t move if I were you,’ he warned.

  Rose stopped a few feet from him and stared into his eyes. ‘What you were saying just then about hurting Malika, it’s not true, is it? It can’t be true. You didn’t do anything, you didn’t hurt anybody.’

  Bruce sighed. What could he say? He had been in Inverness. He had seen the dancing girl in that brothel, and vividly remembered speaking to her and seeing the fear in her eyes.

  ‘Why are not talking, Bruce, and telling me this is a horrible lie?’ Rose pleaded again.

  ‘He can’t deny it because he killed that friend of yours and I can prove it,’ McRae sniggered, pouring himself a drink. He raised his glass in a mock salute.

  ‘And you, my darling Rose, are definitely full of surprises. I left Westmore two days ago thinking you were secure in the old dungeon, and here you are, looking even more lovely than I remember – my lady wife…’

  The sound of McRae’s voice grated on Bruce’s nerves, the lust in the man’s eyes as he stared at Rose made his blood boil.

  As if sensing his rage and frustration, Morven dug his pistol harder into the side of his head. ‘Steady on, McGunn,’ he growled, ‘unless you want to give me an excuse to put a few bullets into your sorry carcass.’

  ‘You slimy snake,’ Rose hissed as she swung round to face McRae, her fists curled on her hips and her face tilted high. ‘I’m not your wife. I never was, and you can’t imagine how glad I am about that! You lied about everything, about loving and marrying me, and about caring for your people when all along you instructed Morven to burn their houses down.’

  McRae’s eyebrows drew in a puzzled frown. ‘What do you mean you’re glad we’re not married? You don’t care I took your virginity and used you like a common whore? What about your honour, your reputation, your love for me?’

  She shook her head, her dark blue eyes sparkling in anger. ‘Ah! What love? I never loved you, you stinking jackal. What I felt for you was a pitiful, immature infatuation, and one that soon melted away when I realised what you were really like. How could I ever mistake that for love? Love is larger than the Sahara, higher than the Tahat peak, king of the Hoggar mountains. It’s deeper and more beautiful than the Mediterranean sea. Love is…’

  She turned to Bruce as if waiting for him to speak, and perhaps tell her he loved her, too. And how he did right now! The pain clawing at his heart grew sharper and made him dizzy and weak. These weren’t the usual aches caused by his illness, but ones caused by despair and self-loathing.

  So he said nothing. He was mad. He was cursed – and perhaps even a murderer. He had no right to love any woman, let alone Rose.

  ‘I don’t believe it. Scatterbrain Rose and grim old McGunn are in love. What an unlikely pair,’ McRae sneered, but a nervous twitch pulled the side of his mouth down and his eyes looked at Rose and Bruce in turn.

  ‘You don’t mind bedding one of my cast-offs, McGunn? You don’t mind if I used her, enjoyed her, touched her and made her scream…’

  A red haze misted in front of Bruce’s eyes, a burning hot firebrand speared his gut and he leapt to his feet.

  ‘Rose isn’t yours, McRae. Whatever you did to her doesn’t matter, she was never yours,’ was all he had time to say before Morven pushed the pistol into his spine and barked at him to sit back down.

  ‘She may not be mine, but she’ll never be yours either, McGunn,’ Cameron snapped back, ‘because you’ll soon hang for what you did.’

  Rose glanced uneasily at him then turned to McRae once more. ‘You lied about everything, and now you’re lying about Bruce having… having…’

  ‘You think I’m lying, don’t you?’ McRae arched a quizzical eyebrow. ‘McGunn, why don’t you tell our lovely friend here how you met Malika in that brothel in Inverness?’

  Bruce swallowed hard and closed his eyes. His head spun. His throat felt too tight to speak. Defeated, he let out a sigh. He was trapped in a never-ending nightmare, from which there was no way out. Except one.

  ‘Bruce,’ he heard Rose plead once again. ‘Please tell me it’s not true.’

  ‘That part is true,’ he started slowly. ‘I did see M
alika in Inverness, but I can’t remember what happened before, or after.’

  ‘We all know what happened,’ McRae pursued, relentless. ‘There were witnesses. The ladies from the brothel will testify at the trial. But they’re not the only ones. There’s someone else too.’

  Bruce flicked his eyes open. ‘Who?’

  ‘Me.’ McNeil entered the room and looked straight at him, his bushy eyebrows drawn into a scowl.

  ‘But you work for Morven!’ Rose cried out. ‘I heard you when you boasted about poisoning Bruce’s drinks with datura – that very same plant that grows in the orangerie at Westmore.’

  She turned suspicious eyes towards McRae. ‘In fact I wouldn’t be surprised if you were behind it all, if you were trying to kill your very own brother.’

  This time it was McRae’s turn to look surprised. ‘So you know about that, too?’

  Bruce too stared at Rose. How had she found out the secret of his birth? His gaze returned to McNeil as the understanding of what Rose had just said dawned on him. He wasn’t terminally ill or plunging into madness like his mother before him, but being poisoned.

  ‘You’ve been feeding me datura all this time?’ he asked McNeil.

  The man stiffened then shrugged. ‘Aye. I brewed the concoction and mixed it with your tonic, your whisky, your tea… pretty much everything you drank and ate, and you never even noticed anything.’

  ‘I don’t understand. Why did you do it?’

  McNeil shook his head but didn’t answer.

  ‘Damn it, man, you owe me an explanation,’ Bruce insisted. ‘I trusted you. You betrayed me, tried to kill me. I want to know why.’

  ‘You stole my woman, that’s why.’

  ‘What woman?’

  ‘Priscilla. Priscilla Andrews. Don’t you even remember her?’

  Bruce frowned. Priscilla… the redhead who tried to trap him into marriage, the one he had sent back to Tongue when he couldn’t take any more of her silly tricks and tiresome recriminations.

  ‘She said she was a widow. She never mentioned being engaged.’

  ‘She promised she’d marry me when I returned from the army, but by then you had given her a place in your kitchens, and in your bed, and she didn’t want me anymore. You used her, humiliated her and spat her out. When she arrived back home, she refused to have anything to do with me and took off for Glasgow.’

  Bruce let out a sigh. ‘I’m sorry, McNeil. I didn’t know the woman was spoken for.’

  It was pointless to say anymore. He could see from the man’s stubborn stance that he wouldn’t listen to a word he’d say. Right now, it didn’t matter anyway. He had questions that needed answering. Lots of questions.

  ‘So you’ve been working for McRae all this time. It was really you I saw at the Old Nag’s Head at Porthaven, wasn’t it? You were in league with the men who attacked me at the harbour. Come to think of it, I thought I recognised the voice of one of the thugs who attacked us on the docks in Inverness.’

  McNeil shrugged but didn't answer.

  ‘Talking about Inverness, I have a few questions for you,’ Bruce carried on, trying to focus his thoughts. ‘First of all, who was that other girl I’m supposed to have manhandled?’

  ‘The McKay girl.’

  ‘Fenella? And how did she end up in a brothel in Inverness?’

  McNeil stared stubbornly at his boots.

  ‘Then tell me how I got both women back to Wrath,’ Bruce asked.

  This time McNeil cast a nervous glance at McRae before answering in a hesitant voice. ‘You ordered me to hire a carriage, a driver and a henchman to take them back to Wrath ahead of us. Malika and Fenella were in a bad way by then. I took them to the usual place.’

  ‘The usual place?’ Bruce’s throat tightened again. Dear Lord. So there had been other women?

  ‘A cave near the beach. That’s where you killed them. You were violent, demented…’

  Bruce rubbed his forehead with a weary hand. ‘Where are the driver and his associate now?’

  ‘They went back to Inverness. I don’t remember their names.’ McNeil crossed his arms on his chest, a stubborn look on his thick set face. ‘That’s what I’ll tell the constables and the judges. You killed that Arab dancer and the McKay girl in a fit of rage.’

  Bruce felt a great emptiness inside him. Was that the truth? Had the datura affected him so badly that he actually raped, tortured and killed two young women and didn’t even remember any of it?

  Worst of all was the knowledge that Rose must hate him right now. He couldn’t blame her. Whatever he’d hoped in his wildest dreams would never happen. She would never be his.

  It came as a shock to hear Rose’s calm voice pierce through the haze of doubt and pain torturing him.

  ‘This is a pack of lies,’ Rose said to McNeil. ‘But considering for one minute that it is the truth…’ She paused, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘The judge will ask why you did nothing to prevent the women from being killed, why you didn’t speak out to denounce Lord McGunn to the authorities, and you will be sent to jail, too.’

  ‘I’ll run away.’ McNeil turned an anxious face towards McRae. ‘You promised to pay my passage to Canada, my lord, if I testified.’

  McRae shook his head and snarled. ‘Shut up, you big fool.’ He walked across the room and poured another whisky. His hand shook so much he spilled most of it onto the front of his jacket but he didn’t seem to notice.

  ‘Actually, McGunn,’ he started, ‘there is still a way out of this unsavoury mess. Give me that letter we talked about and we’ll forget all about Inverness.’

  Bruce shook his head. The time had come to tell the truth. ‘I don’t have it. And I don’t have the faintest idea where it is.’

  ‘You lied?’ McRae snarled, hatred shining in his eyes.

  ‘I have the letter,’ Rose said in a calm voice then.

  ‘What?’ Both Bruce and McRae exclaimed in unison.

  Bruce stared at her, once again marvelling at how brave she was. She didn’t know where the letter was – how could she? – yet she sounded so convincing he almost believed her.

  ‘Looks like our little lady has a few more surprises in store for us,’ Morven chuckled. ‘Where is it, lass?’

  Rose stood up, defiant. ‘I won’t tell you anything until you give my father’s journal back.’

  ‘I’m afraid it’s a bit late for that,’ McRae said, pointing to the flames in the fireplace.

  With a cry of despair she rushed to the fireplace, knelt down and stared into the pile of ashes on the grate.

  ‘Oh no… You destroyed it? I hate you!’ she said, springing to her feet.

  McRae shrugged. ‘Please yourself.’

  ‘That’s all you ever wanted from me, wasn’t it? First you offered to buy it from me, then tried to destroy it in Algiers, and after that you arranged for the burglaries in my hotel room.’

  Annoyance and surprise flashed in McRae’s eyes but he raised his glass in a mock salute. ‘Well done, Rose, you’re not half as stupid as I thought. And when that didn’t work either, I courted you and you fell for it. I paid three drunks I met in a dockside tavern to act as vicar and witnesses for our wedding. The idea was to get the diary from you after enjoying my wedding night and sail away in the morning. Unfortunately, and unbeknown to me, you’d taken the blasted thing to the bank and spoiled everything.’

  ‘What if I had come after you to Scotland, or complained to the authorities in Algiers that you’d conned me, raped me and stolen from me?’

  He shrugged. ‘You wouldn’t have dared. I would have left a note explaining we were never married. You were alone in Algiers since that hopeless old manservant of yours had left and your mother and brother were hundreds of miles away. You would have been far too ashamed to make a formal complaint against me. No, the way I saw it, there was nothing you could have done.’

  The bastard had everything planned, Bruce thought.

  ‘Yet something went wrong,’ Rose remarked
. ‘You hurt that dancing girl in Algiers, didn’t you? Malika saw you, that’s why you had to leave without waiting for the bank to open. You ordered me to wait for the Sea Eagle, and told me to keep our so-called marriage a secret. You were going to take the diary from me as soon as I arrived, then send me back or dispose of me before I could make a fuss and alert your precious fiancée… Morven knew about me that’s why he had the mail guard and the driver lock me up in that abandoned cottage in Sith Coille.’

  ‘That’s right, my dear… Anyway, enough talking. You said you knew where the letter was. I want it now.’

  Rose shook her head. ‘First, you must give me your word that you’ll let Bruce go unharmed.’

  ‘This is getting bloody ridiculous,’ Morven interjected. ‘Let me handle the girl, sir. She’ll soon tell me what we want to know so we can finish this.’

  ‘All in good time, Morven,’ McRae replied. ‘Darling Rose, I fear you have the whole thing the wrong way round. You see, I’m the one holding all the cards here. McGunn’s life is hanging by a thread – or rather by a golden hair of your pretty head. There are two things you can do to save his skin. One is to give me the letter my useless father wrote to his slut of a mother. The other, we’ll deal with later, and this time I swear you’ll enjoy it as much as I do…’

  His gaze roved over her, hot and hungry, and he licked his lips. ‘If you don’t want Morven to shoot your precious McGunn, you’ll get the letter for me now.’ McRae gestured to McNeil. ‘You go with her, and hurry. My patience is running thin.’

  McNeil nodded, grabbed hold of Rose’s arm and yanked her to him. Once again Bruce groaned with frustration. What was she going to do now? There was no way she knew where the letter was. She was bluffing, and all because of her misguided belief that she loved him.

  Even now, after all she had heard about him killing Malika and Fenella, she was prepared to play a lethal game to save him from McRae, the man who sought to destroy him. His brother.

  Chapter Nine

  ‘Faster, lass.’ McNeil pushed her up the stairs so hard she tripped on the landing.