Everything In Its Time

by Dee Davis

  He had retired early, thinking to be well rested for his own ride into Macpherson lands in the morning, but sleep eluded him. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Katherine's face pleading silently for help. And pacing did little to alleviate the worry that ate at him.

  It had been too long. If she had been captured for ransom there should have been word by now. He shivered at the alternatives. Captives meant for ransom were generally well treated, especially women. But if she had been taken out of spite or revenge, or for any of a myriad of other reasons, her fate could range anywhere from imprisonment to rape—to death. He slammed his fist into the wall, wincing more from his fear for Katherine than from the pain.

  A slight noise caught his attention, and he tensed, listening. The sound had come from Katherine's chamber. He stood, body rigid, battle ready, waiting for another sound, but all was quiet. He forced himself to relax his stance. He'd overreacted. No doubt he had heard a wee mouse. Sorcha did her best to keep them at bay, but there were always small vermin about.

  He resumed his pacing. His mind returning to Katherine. His men were ready, their arms sharpened and their blood-lust soaring as they prepared to attack the Macphersons and secure the return of their new mistress to Duncreag. But Iain knew they were also relishing a chance for revenge. Revenge not only for Katherine, but for Angus and Andrew as well. He knew, if he found Katherine dead, his own need for vengeance would be unquenchable.

  A soft thud sounded against the heavy chest he had pushed against the door connecting his chamber to what he had come to think of as Katherine's. It had been meant to keep her from the chamber, but now it seemed it was keeping something from him. He pivoted slowly, his head cocked, listening. Again the noise was followed by silence.

  This time he was not so quick to dismiss it. Crossing to the bed, he reached for his dirk. Holding it at the ready, he stood in silence, straining to hear something more, but the night was quiet except for the occasional rustle of the wind outside the window. Iain felt some of the tension ease from his body. He moved soundlessly, on bare feet, to the door of his chamber. Still holding his dirk, he quietly opened the door, moving into the darkened corridor.

  He crouched low into the shadows, his eyes searching for the source of the sound. A dark figure emerged from Katherine's chamber. It slowly moved into the passageway, taking the shape of a man as it left the deeper shadows of the doorway. Iain sprang at the figure, wrapping an arm around the man's shoulders, his other hand holding the dagger, its tip placed directly on the throbbing pulse in the man's throat.

  "One move and you're sure to be a dead man."

  The stranger froze, not moving a muscle, his body tensed against the pressure of Iain's knife.

  "We'll just move slowly now into the solar, down the passage straight ahead. Nod if you can understand me."

  The stranger stood without moving, giving no sign that he had even heard Iain speak. Finally, the man tilted his head slightly in agreement. Iain pushed him forward, relaxing his dirk hand slightly, but keeping his arm locked around the man's shoulders and chest.

  Once they were through the doorway of the solar, Iain shoved the man away from him, keeping the small dagger ready in his hand. The stranger stumbled, but recovered before he fell, swinging around to face his adversary. The two men eyed each other warily.

  Iain felt a strange pounding in his ears. The man before him was fair, with short golden hair and piercing blue eyes. His clothes were oddly fashioned and his shoes were like none Iain had ever seen. "Who are you?"

  "You first."

  The man ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing in every direction. Iain felt the hair on his arms rising. "I'd say you're no' in a position just now to be asking questions."

  "Nevertheless, I'll know your name before I give you mine."

  The man's Gaelic was awkwardly phrased, as though it was not his first language. Amazement was quickly overriding Iain's concern. "I'm Iain Mackintosh of Duncreag and, unless I'm very much mistaken, I'm guessing you are Katherine's brother."

  The other man visibly relaxed, but still kept his distance. "I can't understand but about half of what you say, but if I understood the reference to my sister correctly, then you've got it right, Iain. I'm Jeff St. Claire, Kitty's brother."

  "Kitty?" Iain stared at Jeff, trying to fathom the significance of the name.

  "Katherine. Sorry—Kitty's her nickname." Jeff sat down in the chair by the hearth. "Is it okay if I sit? You scared the hell out of me."

  He did look a little pale. Perhaps he was not used to combat. Iain sheathed his dirk and sat in the chair opposite Jeff. "Tell me how you come to be here."

  "To be honest, I'm not exactly sure how I did it. I just was there one minute and here the next."

  Iain nodded thoughtfully. " 'Twas much the same with Katherine."

  "Is she here?" Jeff looked around the solar, obviously eager for some sign of his sister.

  Iain's hand tightened around his dirk again. This time in frustration. "Nay, she is no' here."

  "So I'm too late." Jeff words were low, spoken mainly to himself.

  Iain strained to hear. "Too late?"

  "Yeah, I'd hoped to get here before the kidnapping."

  "You know about Katherine's abduction?"

  Jeff frowned, meeting Iain's steady gaze. "Yeah, I do, and a few other things as well."

  "Tell me what it is you know." Iain's heart leapt as a small piercing ray of hope stabbed through his despair.

  Jeff rose to stand by the fire. "Some of it isn't going to make you happy."

  Iain nodded, and began twirling his dirk with nervous fingers. "Continue."

  "Okay, I found a letter Katherine wrote to me." Jeff frowned, his face looking bleak. "It was written several years after her kidnapping. That would be a few years from now." He paused, his gaze steady, concerned. "I know this is hard to comprehend."

  "As much for you as for me, no doubt." Iain waved a hand at him. "Please go on."

  "She hid it in one of the fireplaces. I think she just wanted to talk to me." Jeff's eyes were clouded with pain now—a pain Iain recognized.

  "She misses you verra much."

  "I miss her too." Jeff paused, running a hand through his hair. "Anyway, in this letter, she mentions her kidnapping. She says she never really knew exactly what happened. And what little she did know, she got from someone named Alasdair Davidson. Do you know him?"

  Iain stabbed his knife into the table by the chair. "Aye, I know him. His holding borders mine."

  Jeff eyed the knife nervously. "I take it he isn't a friend?"

  "Nay." The single word hung for a moment in the air between them.

  "Okay, then what I have to tell you is definitely not going to sit well with you." Jeff gave a wry smile. "Remember no killing the messenger."

  "Aye." Iain sat forward, his hands braced on his knees, ready for the worst.

  "Evidently, you were, or will be, killed in an attempt to rescue Katherine from the Macphersons."

  Iain growled, his voice the only outward manifestation of his anger and fear. "And Katherine?"

  "Well, according to her letter, this Alasdair guy pays a ransom and obtains her freedom, then brings her back here to Duncreag." Jeff paused, his face creased with worry. "It gets worse."

  "Tell me." Iain choked the words out—his fear for Katherine curling inside him like a snake, threatening to unman him.

  "It seems that Alasdair manages to gain control of Duncreag after your death. And according to the letter, he insists that Katherine marry him."

  "The bloody bastard, he canna keep his hands off her." Iain sprang from his chair, fear and rage banding together to form a cold fury that seethed for vengeance. "And did she marry him?" This last part was forced through gritted teeth, as Iain tried to gain control of his emotions.

  "Not at first. She calls him pompous and arrogant."

  "An apt description." Iain sat again, burying his face in his hands, an image of Katherine
filling his mind.

  "You love, her very much, don't you?" Jeff sounded surprised.

  Iain lifted his head, tears in his eyes. "Aye, more than I can ever express. She is my life. Without her ..." He trailed off, burying his face in his hands again, his insides feeling as if someone were ripping his organs out one by one. But his wallowing in self pity would not be of benefit to Katherine. He drew in a deep, cleansing breath and reached deep inside, finding strength. Lifting his head, he pulled the dirk from the table and met Jeff's worried gaze with the eyes of a warrior. "Tell me the last of it."

  Jeff sighed, and dropped down onto a bench, nervously clenching and unclenching his fists. "She tried to get back to me a couple of times. But the doorway, or whatever it is, wouldn't work. She couldn't leave. I think maybe she was still tied too strongly to you."

  "How do you mean?"

  "Well, it seems she discovered she was pregnant."

  "Pregnant?" Iain stared at Jeff, his mind reeling, his hand holding the dirk so tightly, it cut into his thumb.

  "Yeah."

  "Mine?" The words came out little more than a whisper.

  "Yours."

  Iain's death grip on his father's dagger relaxed. And he absently wiped at the blood, the functioning part of his mind noting that the cut was no more than a scratch.

  Jeff cleared his throat, his eyes never leaving Iain's. "Kitty was afraid for the baby. I think something really horrible must have happened to her during her captivity. She wouldn't write about it at all, but whatever it was, I get the feeling it really drove home the fact that a woman alone in these times hasn't much chance for survival. She might have risked it if she'd been alone, but when she realized she was carrying your child, she knew she had to find some way to gain protection for herself and the baby." Jeff shrugged. "Alasdair offered that security."

  "So she married him."

  "She did. Then she convinced him the unborn child was his."

  "And the child?" His child. Iain held his breath, waiting.

  "A daughter. Anna. Katherine described her as beautiful. She said she had the look of you, especially her eyes. Iain, you should know that Katherine felt that being with you and having your daughter were the most wonderful things that ever happened to her. She specifically wrote that even if she had known how it would all turn out, she would have done it again. She still wore the earrings, Iain, and she was planning to pass them down to Anna, along with the story of her parents' great love for each other."

  Iain felt suddenly as if he had lost not one love but two. He wondered how much more pain he could bear, but he had to know. "Was there any more?"

  "No." Jeff shook his head. "Just a few private words for me."

  Iain's sat staring, seeing nothing, his mind blank, as if someone had reached deep inside and strangled his soul.

  Jeff leaned forward. "Listen to me, Iain. These things I've told you about, they haven't happened yet. That's why I came here, to try and change it all, to help you find Katherine and to keep you alive at the same time. Can you understand that?"

  Iain focused on Jeff's face, his senses reawakening one by one. Hope reborn in a sparkling instant. "Aye. You think there's still a chance to make this turn out right?"

  "I do. But now I need you to tell me everything you know about the kidnapping."

  Iain rose to stand by the fire. "There is no' much to tell. Of late we've been having problems with the Macphersons, and Katherine's abduction is only the latest in a string of attacks on Duncreag. It seems the Macphersons have been reiving our cattle. We caught them in the act and stopped them, but no' before they wounded one of my men and killed another. Later that same day, I was attacked."

  "By a stream. Katherine warned you." Jeff looked at Iain in amazement. "I don't think, even after all of this, that I fully believed her until now."

  "Aye, she saved my life. And the man I killed carried this dirk." Iain passed the dirk to Jeff, hilt first.

  "Iain, I've seen this dirk before, in my time."

  "Aye, Katherine mentioned that she, too, had seen it."

  "But I've more than just seen it. I used it to come back here. The cairngorm ..." He touched it reverently. "I thought it would help."

  Iain smiled as he took the dagger back from Jeff. "Well, I'd say that it did. 'Twas my father's, and now 'tis mine."

  Jeff frowned in confusion. "But didn't you say the Macpherson you killed had the knife?"

  "Aye. No' long ago my father died. He fell from a cliff. Originally they thought it was an accident, but I believe it was the work of the man by the burn."

  "The one you killed."

  Iain nodded.

  "And that would be how he came to have the knife."

  "Aye."

  "So you think all of this has culminated in Kitty's kidnapping. What specifically makes you think the Macphersons are responsible for the abduction?"

  "There was a witness." Anger rose again, with the memory of Sorcha's tale.

  "What?"

  "My aunt was there. According to her, Katherine left Duncreag for a walk. Auntie Sorcha was worried that Katherine would get lost and so she followed her. She found her in a meadow picking flowers and sat at the edge of the woods to watch o'er her."

  "Why didn't she say something to her?"

  "I asked her the same question. She says she didna want to intrude. I think the truth is that she wasna sure what her reception would be. She says she'd been rather curt with Katherine o'er the tending of the boy I mentioned earlier."

  "The one wounded in the fight?"

  "Aye."

  "So she sat watching while Katherine was kidnapped?"

  "Nay, she ran when she realized what was happening. She thought it best to come and find me."

  "I suppose that's sensible. But why weren't you able to intercept them?"

  Guilt slammed through him, but he forced himself to meet Jeff's gaze. "I wasna here. I'd gone out to retrieve the cattle we'd scattered in the fighting."

  "It wasn't your fault, Iain. You had no way of knowing this would happen."

  "In my mind, I know what you speak is true, but in my heart..." Iain paused, his body racked with grief.

  "Excuse me."

  Iain turned at the sound of the voice. William stood in the doorway, leaning heavily on a crude wooden crutch, gritting his teeth in determination.

  "I know I'm interrupting, but I'm certain that Sorcha has no' told you the truth of the tale."

  Chapter 19

  KATHERINE FLOATED TO consciousness, trying to quiet the drums pounding in her head. Where the hell was she? Memory flashed. The clearing. A man on a black horse.

  Oh God.

  She'd been abducted. Holding back a groan, she tried to sit up. Dizziness washed over her with the force of a tidal wave, but she fought it, pushing herself into an upright position. She flexed her leg muscles and then her arms, wincing with the motion. Nothing seemed to be broken. Except maybe her head. Gingerly she explored her scalp, but found nothing unusual. Perhaps she just wasn't meant to be an equestrian.

  Ignoring the pulsing pain in her head, Katherine stood up, one of her hands flat against the wall to help maintain her balance. Her prison, if that's what it was, was a small dank room with a rather large hole in one wall. She inched her way closer to the opening, hoping for an escape route. The hole appeared to be the remains of a window. Part of an arch remained intact, the rest lost in a jumble of fallen stone and sky, open from floor to ceiling.

  She reached the hole and poked her head out, knocking bits of the window loose with the motion. Debris spiraled downward, its descent dizzying. Far below, she could see jagged edges of rock reaching up for her. She teetered, frozen for a moment, and then dropped to the floor and scrambled back to the far wall, her breath coming in tortured gasps. She leaned back against the cold stone wall, grateful for its support. There would be no escape that way.

  Tears threatened and her heart called out for Iain. She had no idea if he was even alive. Katherine gave herself a
mental scolding. It wouldn't do to borrow problems. She had plenty of her own to worry about. She had to think positively. She had to get out of here.

  She wasn't some weak damsel in distress. Okay, she was a little weak, but she wasn't about to sit by meekly waiting to see what fate had in store for her. There had to be a way out of here. She just had to find it.

  She turned slowly, surveying the room again, this time with an even sharper eye. It was roughly circular in shape, its walls made out of rough hewn stone. Across from the broken window, there was a smaller undamaged version. It wasn't much more than a slit, situated high in the wall. The ceiling was wooden and had rotted away in many places. The stones of the roof were visible through several gaping holes.

  There was a crude fireplace, but nothing with which to start a fire. From the looks of the debris inside the hearth, it had been used most recently as a dwelling for a rodent or bird. She shuddered at the thought of an unknown roommate. Some straw or grass had been piled against one wall. Her bed, no doubt. She kicked at it, but to her relief, nothing moved. At least it looked relatively clean. Not the Hilton, but it beat cold stones. She rubbed her back. She'd had an experience with them already and was not ready to renew the acquaintance.

  Finally, she turned to examine the thick wooden door. Unfortunately, it, unlike the rest of her penthouse suite, was in excellent condition. She tried to pull it open, but wasn't surprised when it wouldn't budge.

  Still, there was bound to be somebody on the other side, and with any luck, there ought to be a bathroom break surely or at least a little gruel for dinner. And for that the door would have to open. All she had to do was disable her captor, and get the hell out of Dodge.

  Piece of cake.

  Bolstered by false bravado, she edged her way to the broken window, averting her gaze from the actual opening. She selected a large stone from the pile of rubble and crouched by the wall next to where the door would swing open. She held the stone ready, both hands gripping it firmly. Whatever it was that brought someone through that door, she'd be ready.