Roderick stepped into the room and she felt a chill go through her. With an outward show of calm, she sat down in a chair before the fire, a little surprised that there had been one built for her. Roderick walked over to stand in front of the fire, blocking a lot of the heat. Kirstie found herself hoping a stray spark would catch his rich clothing afire. She had not realized, until seeing Payton's elegant yet subdued attire, that Roderick was a coxcomb.
"I suppose ye have already tried picking the locks,” Roderick said.
He was so pleased with himself, she mused. “I havenae had the time yet. I have only just awakened from your little love tap.” She touched her jaw, not surprised to feel a swelling there, and suspected the bruising would soon be very colorful.
"Weel, ye may as weel nay waste your time."
"Aye. I gathered that when I heard the bolt being drawn on the outside of the door ere ye came in. Ye obviously planned weel for my visit. There was nay need to trouble yourself. I dinnae intend to visit for verra long."
"Ah, Kirstie, ye just dinnae understand, do ye?” Roderick shook his head. “Ye will ne'er leave Thanescarr, nay alive. Ye have betrayed me once too often, from our wedding night to your feeble attempts to blacken my name with slanderous lies. And, of course, ye have cuckolded me with Sir Payton Murray."
That was a subject she would prefer him not to linger on for too long. Roderick had not wanted her as a true wife, wanted no woman at all. It was not something she could prove any longer even if she ever got the chance to do so. If Roderick wanted to brand her an adulteress, she could find herself in some serious trouble if she managed to survive the trouble she was in now. Since she had just spent a month in the near-legendary Sir Payton Murray's house, even if she could manage to lie and deny any affair, no one would ever believe her. Kirstie did not know why Roderick cared what she may or may not have done with Payton, unless he intended to use it as an excuse for her death. That made little sense for, even if the wife was guilty of adultery, people frowned on the husband killing her for that sin. So, she thought, what game did he play now?
"Slanderous lies?” she drawled. “'Tis but the truth finally being told.” She watched him repeatedly clench and unclench his hands and braced for a possible attack. “Ye hurt children, Roderick. Deny it all ye will, pretty it up with lies about giving poor lads food and clothing all ye wish to, but that is the plain truth. And, one of these days,” she added in a hard, cold voice, “I will prove that there is innocent blood on your hands, that ye killed some of those children."
"Ye try to blacken my name to hide your own sins."
"Oh, nay. Whate'er sins I may have committed pale in comparison to the ones which stain your soul."
"Your sins grow daily, wife. Ye keep adding to the blood upon your hands, despite all of my efforts to stop ye."
"What madness do ye speak? I am nay the one with blood on my hands."
"Nay? Ye keep dragging others into this, keep telling others those lies about me until I am forced to act to silence them. Ye ken weel my need for privacy, how virulently I protect it, yet ye keep endangering others with your tales of imagined woes and crimes."
"Ye tried to kill me!” She could not believe how completely Roderick lied to himself, how he spoke of his cruelties and murders as if they were of no consequence.
"Ye wouldnae shut up!” Roderick took a deep breath and said more calmly, “Weel, ye have now given me three more to deal with."
"What do ye mean?” she demanded, a chill slipping down her spine.
"What do ye think, ye foolish wench? Ye have drawn Sir Payton and those two rather ugly servants of his into our troubles. Dinnae try to deny it. Once I had time to consider the matter, I realized ‘twas Sir Payton who was blackening my name. The lies he was telling could only have come from you. Now I must silence him and it willnae be easy. I shall have to spend many long hours plotting how to be rid of him and his servants without bringing any suspicion upon myself. Fortunately, I dinnae need to be so careful concerning that little traitor Callum."
Kirstie found it all very difficult to comprehend. The man spoke of the murder of four people, one only a child, yet he sounded merely irritated over the time and effort it would take to do it without risking the gallows. He also tried to blame her for it all. Worse, she could not completely dispel the guilt he was stirring inside of her.
"Ye speak of murdering four people as if ‘tis naught but an inconvenience,” she murmured, unsure of what to say, for she knew there was little chance she could talk him out of it, yet she felt compelled to try.
"'Tis an inconvenience, one ye keep inflicting upon me. And for what? Troublesome, wee brats others toss aside?"
"Weel, ye willnae find it so easy to kill Payton or Strong Ian and his wife. And, if ye think ye can do so and remain unscathed, ye are a fool. Payton's family will start hunting for his killer before his blood has e'en dried."
"Oh, nay, I dinnae think so. I have been verra successful in blackening his name, far more successful than he has been in trying to blacken mine. The mon has cuckolded too many men and roused the envy of many another. ‘Twas verra easy to bring him down. I doubt his kinsmen will e'en want to ken what plot of mud he will be rotting in."
"Ye try to judge others by the inconstancy of the court's fools and flatterers. The Murrays willnae be so quick to believe what ye say or to condemn one of their own. Nay, they will seek answers and will demand blood for blood. Ye may weel succeed in silencing Payton, Wee Alice, Strong Ian, and e'en Callum, but the Murrays and their allies will soon root out all your dark secrets. Then it will be ye who will rot in the mud, banished by kith and kin, your grave pissed on by every child ye have abused."
It puzzled her that he did not hit her. Kirstie could see that he dearly wished to. Roderick had rarely practiced such restraint in the past so she had to wonder why he did so now. He wanted her dead so he should not fear that he might accidentally kill her if he released his rage.
"Why have ye come here? To gloat o'er imagined slights? To try to pass your own sins onto me?” she asked. “Ye waste your time. We really have naught to say to each other."
"Nay? Mayhap I have decided to forgive ye and accept ye back as my wife."
"I was ne'er your wife.” For the first time, Kirstie truly believed that.
Roderick ignored her. “Aye, ‘tis time for us to become a true family. ‘Tis time ye had a child."
Kirstie crossed her arms over her chest to hide the trembling that suddenly seized her. Roderick did not know she had overheard Gib and Wattie speak of his plans to get her with child, using them as studs. She did not want to believe he would do such a thing, then told herself not to be such an idiot. A man who could do what he did to children was capable of anything. Considering what fate he probably intended for the child itself, she should not really be so deeply shocked over how he wanted to obtain that child.
"Ah, so ye have decided to try to be a mon again,” she said, and watched him actually start to swing his fist at her only to stop it, shaking slightly from the effort. “Tsk, such a temper ye have."
"One does wonder why ye seem so intent upon stirring it up."
"Does one?” She did, and did not really have an answer for that. “I dinnae believe I am quite ready to have a child."
"Bearing children is one, mayhap the only, useful thing a woman does. ‘Tis also your duty as my wife."
"Just as it is your duty to give me one, but ye seem unable to do so, so where does that leave us?"
Roderick crossed his arms over his chest. “I could wait to see if that great lover Sir Payton has bred ye, but, nay, I think not. ‘Tis possible the bairn would look just like him and that could cause some difficulty. Nay, I shall have my lads see to it. Come, why look so appalled? Ye were willing to spread your legs for Sir Payton. Ye can do it for the men I choose.” A knock at the door drew his attention and he moved to open it, keeping a wary eye on Kirstie as he did. “Curse it, Wattie,” he hissed at the big man standing there. “I told
ye I would tell ye when."
"Your kinsmen are here,” Wattie said. “They want to talk with ye. Now."
"Jesu, what could they possibly want to talk about now?"
"Weel, ye be telling the world and its mother that Sir Payton Murray stole your wife, that ye are a cuckold. I suspicion they feel ye ought to do something about that insult, aye? Going to tell them ye got the bitch back?"
"Nay, not yet,” Roderick replied. “I suppose I must talk with them.” He looked at Kirstie. “I suggest ye get some rest, my dear. Ye will be needing your strength later."
Once alone, Kirstie slowly folded over until her head rested upon her knees. She felt cold, chilled to the bone with fear for herself and all those she cared about. The insanity festering within Roderick also left her afraid. He meant all he had said, was not merely trying to frighten her. Yet, because of that, he had frightened her far more that he ever could have with threats and his fists. There was no reasoning with such a man and no way to guess what he might do. He would do things and act in ways no sane man could ever hope to anticipate. That made him a very dangerous man indeed.
And there was no way she could warn Payton, she realized, and fought the urge to weep. Payton had to know that Roderick would want him dead. He already knew that Roderick wanted Callum dead. But, would he know that Ian and Alice were also in danger? And what about the other children sheltering in his home, now numbering seven? Roderick might not know that they were there, but if he went after the others, he would soon discover them. He had not mentioned Simon and Brenda, but if reminded of them, he would undoubtedly want them silenced as well. Then there were Payton's three guards to consider.
She slowly straightened up, tightly gripped the arms of the chair, and stared blindly into the fire. Six adults and eight children. No sane person would ever think he could execute so many and get away with it. But, then, Roderick was not sane. She doubted he even thought of them all as people, merely obstacles to his ability to continue his perversions in peace.
The door was unbolted again and Kirstie tensed, fearing Roderick had sent Gib and Wattie to her already. Gib was there, leering at her and looking as if he had not been wounded at all, but he simply guarded the doorway as the kitchen maid Daisy brought Kirstie a tray of food and drink. Gib was not very bright, but he might have as strong a sense of self-preservation as Roderick did. Kirstie wondered if she could stir up a little dissension in the ranks.
"Ye do ken what Roderick plans now, dinnae ye?” she asked.
"Aye. He plans to let me and Wattie breed a bairn on ye,” Gib answered.
"Nay, ye fool, I speak of all the people he is planning to kill. In truth, he is probably planning to have ye and Wattie do the killing so ‘twill be your filthy necks the hemp will soon be kissing."
Gib shrugged. “Been past worrying o'er a hanging for a long while. ‘Tis just a matter of when and for what. They can only hang me once, ye ken. And, I think I will enjoy killing that pretty bastard ye have been tupping for a month. Sir Payton's tupped near half the women in Scotland and the other half wish he would tup them. The man sore needs killing."
"And, of course, his three guards and his two servants will simply stand back and let ye have at him?"
"I suspicion old Roderick has a wee plan or two for them as weel or they will fall in the fighting. I dinnae much care. Old Roderick's kept us from hanging for this long. Suspicion he will continue to do so. Clever is old Roderick."
"Old Roderick is insane,” she snapped, “and I begin to think it is contagious."
Gib frowned for a moment, then nodded. “Aye, the mon is probably mad as a March hare. After all, he would have to be to prefer wee lads to a woman.” He wrapped his arm around Daisy's thick waist, yanked her close to his side, and nuzzled her dirty neck.
The way Daisy paled a little, and the look of frightened disgust on the woman's face, had Kirstie fighting the urge to attack Gib and try to free the maid. Common sense told her to stay in her seat. All she would accomplish was the chance to nurse a few new bruises and, quite possibly, some rough retribution for Daisy. Then she realized that Daisy was staring at her, that most of her wriggling and sounds of distress were to keep Gib occupied. Once Kirstie met her gaze, Daisy cast a pointed glance at the tray, then winked. It took every ounce of willpower Kirstie had not to look at the tray to discover what Daisy might have hidden there.
"Let go of me, ye fool,” snapped Daisy as she wriggled free of Gib's hold. “The laird is demanding food and drink for his guests and I need to get back to the kitchens."
"Go on with ye, then,” Gib said, somewhat roughly shoving her out the door. Once out in the hall himself, Gib paused in shutting the door to leer at Kirstie. “I will be seeing ye later. Me and Wattie. Best ye rest some. Ye will need your strength to handle big men like me and Wattie."
Kirstie stared at the door as he shut it and bolted it. She wondered idly if, in the ten years he had lived here, Roderick's insanity had seeped into the very walls of Thanescarr, only to ooze out now and then to infect others. Gib might not be insane, but he was most certainly not quite right in the head. Somehow he, and undoubtedly Wattie as well, had grown to manhood without one single scrap of conscience. She supposed she should not be surprised. Such men were the only ones who could serve Roderick so faithfully.
She turned her attention to the tray Daisy had set down on the table next to her chair. When she touched the square of linen on the tray, she knew whatever Daisy wanted her to have was hidden inside it. Within the folds of the linen was a plain but very sharp dagger. As Kirstie tested the feel of it in her hand, she wondered what Daisy thought she could do with it. The ones working in Roderick's kitchens had always been sympathetic to her, although their help had always been severely restricted by their fear of Roderick. Kirstie would have preferred some help getting out of Thanescarr, but knew they had taken great risks to slip her a weapon and she was grateful. It did make her feel a little less helpless.
Forcing herself to eat something, Kirstie chewed on a piece of bread, and studied the dagger. If she was very lucky, she might be able to kill Roderick if he came to visit her alone again. She might even be able to kill one of the men who would try to bed her later, but she knew she could never kill or incapacitate both Gib and Wattie. Once she struck one down, the other would kill her without thought or hesitation. Despite all she might suffer in the next few hours, she really did not want to die. Of course, the knife might have been sent so that she could kill herself, but she doubted it.
Kirstie had the feeling that the ones in the kitchens expected her to perform some miraculous escape. She dearly wished she was not about to disappoint them all. About the only way out she could see at the moment was through the window and that would be suicide. The best that would accomplish would be to give Roderick the difficult chore of trying to explain why his missing wife was crushed and bleeding all over his bailey. When Kirstie realized she was actually seeing that as a good thing, she decided it was time to start praying for a miracle.
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CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"Are ye sure Ian will fit?” asked Payton as he stared into the dark hole Callum had uncovered.
From where they stood, Payton could see the men upon the walls of Thanescarr. The trees and brush had been allowed to grow so thick and wild, however, that he felt confident none of those men could see him or the others with him. It seemed odd that a man so protective of his secrets as Sir Roderick would be so careless about the ones his own keep held.
"'Twill probably be a wee bit tight for a few yards,” replied Callum, “but, aye, he will fit. ‘Twas made to let a fully armed mon pass through."
"I will follow ye in for a ways,” said Malkie. “Ye may need help if ye are caught fleeing and, ye ne'er can tell, someone might have finally discovered this, amble along the passage, see it is open, and send up an alarum."
"Oh, I didnae think of that,” said Callum.
"Nay? Truly?” Malkie's wide grin remov
ed any sting from his sarcasm. “Go on. Let us be done with this."
Payton heartily agreed with that sentiment as he followed Callum into the dark, dank passage. Ian and Malkie quickly slipped in behind him, leaving Donald and Angus to guard their route of escape. It only took a few yards for Payton to decide he hated small, dark passageways. What Callum had claimed was only yards soon felt like miles to Payton.
When they reached the wider part of the passage, Payton had to stop. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself as he watched Malkie light a candle. Malkie dripped some wax on a piece of stone jutting out from the wall and set the candle down in it. Payton found that even that faint light was enough to calm his lingering unease.
"'Tis like a cursed coffin,” muttered Ian as he lit the shuttered lantern they had brought with them.
"Sometimes the dark can be a verra safe place,” murmured Callum as he studied the floor for a moment. “It doesnae look as if anyone has come this way, nay since Lady Kirstie and I last used it."
"But, we will still have to pass through some that are weel used?” asked Payton.
"One or two, but none of those as weel used. We will have to pass by a few places where we had best be verra quiet. Want me to hold up my hand to tell ye when we get near them?"
"Good enough. Lead on, lad."
Payton was astounded at how quietly the boy moved. Callum also appeared very confident about the direction he took, yet it looked to be a confusing maze to Payton. It was not until they took a second turning that he caught sight of the odd painted scratchings upon the wall. He signaled Ian to bring the lamp closer.
"What are these?” he asked Callum when the boy joined them.
"Lady Kirstie and I made them,” the boy replied. “The arrow means ye go straight down here. The three doors there are the openings ye pass ere ye see another useful passage. See the letter ‘R’ on that second door? It means ye have to be verra quiet going by that place. It opens behind Roderick's chair at the head table in the great hall. The sun on the first door means ye can get outside through it, but only into the bailey. ‘Tis why the sun is frowning. The goblet on the third door means ye can get from there into the place where they store barrels of wine and ale."
Highland Angel Page 18
