“My cousin is a dead man,” Kirk said, as he unsheathed his sword. Glowering at all within earshot, he held it threateningly at his side, at the ready.
“Why are ye hiding, Iona?” Fia whispered.
Iona jumped. She hadn’t heard her approach. “I don’t think Kirk likes me, right now. Marcus might be upset to find me out of my cell, too.”
“I went down to release ye, but ye were already gone.”
Iona grabbed Fia and hugged her. “Thank you. That means the world to me. I thought you hated me.”
“Doona be silly. Marcus reacted when that stupid servant cried Witch. I banished her to the milking house for the duration of your visit.”
“I really don’t go around pretending to be a witch. I know the usefulness of powdered herbs and berries, and have read a spell or two in my day. How’s your arm?”
Fia shoved her fairy-wing chemise sleeve up. The bandage was gone, as was the bubbled, burned skin. “Like new. I shall keep it covered until a reasonable time passes. No need upsetting other servants.”
“Thanks,” Iona whispered, then turned to peek into the great hall again. Two dozen men had gathered, all armed to the teeth. Were they actually after Cameron? “This looks like a nightmare in the making.”
“Someone is bound to die before this be over. I hope Haven is safe.”
“Cameron must die. Do ye agree, Marcus?” Kirk said.
“Robeson be yer relative, not mine. Say the word, and he dies upon sight. However, we must find out what his plans are for yer woman.”
“I know his plans,” Kirk said, then cursed several words in Gaelic even Iona understood.
Marcus patted Kirk on the shoulder. “His actions make no sense. He has the Mackenzie wench. Why risk clan war and certain death to steal his laird’s betrothed.”
“Cameron has wanted Haven from the first moment he saw her.”
Iona gasped loud enough to draw the attention of half the armed men. Fia hustled her into the room and dissolved the tension with a gentle wave.
“Marcus, my love, I have brought Iona here to help us figure out Cameron’s plans. She knows him well.” Fia said, then wiggled her eyebrows at her husband. Iona groaned. She saw the look in his eyes. His attention landed on her, and she cringed.
“Honestly, I have no idea if Cameron took Haven. I didn’t see a thing.”
“A man, possibly Robeson, was seen entering the castle grounds, disguised as a farmer. A guard challenged him on the stairs and was pushed to his death.” Marcus pointed to a form lying beneath a blanket.
“No! Cameron wouldn’t do such a thing.” Iona clutched a hand over her mouth.
“Men will do anything when lust consumes them,” Kirk said.
Iona ran to Kirk and gripped the hand holding a huge, lethal sword. Its gilded hilt glistened with the man’s sweat. Looking at his face, Iona gasped. Tears fell onto his hands and sword, not sweat. “Please tell me the truth. Is Haven the woman Cameron came back from his banishment to find?”
Kirk nodded.
Iona’s heart crumbled, and she fell to her knees.
“Iona, lass, doona fret. ‘Tis lust that stirs him, not love. He will return for ye.” Fia cradled her like a child.
Iona was acting like a child. What did she care if he wanted Haven more than he wanted her? The point was that Haven was in love with Kirk, and was pregnant with his child.
“Does Cameron know about the baby?” Iona asked, loud enough for everyone in the great hall to hear. Whispers grew into loud, objectionable arguments.
“No man shall survive kidnapping another man’s heir,” Marcus said.
“Oh, dear. Will she tell him? Try to appeal to his kinder side?” They all stared at her as if she’d grown another head. Their opinion of Cameron differed from hers, for some reason. Had he acted kind, thoughtful, and loving to appease her? He’d led her to believe Haven needed saving. Iona had led him right to her, and then he had kidnapped her friend. Something wasn’t right with this picture.
“Are you sure it was Cameron? You said the kidnapper wore a disguise. The guard who confronted him is dead.”
“We found this.” Marcus thrust a pendant into her hand. It glowed with internal heat, shimmering in candlelight. The glob of glistening amber was set in an ornate teardrop setting and hung from a delicate gold chain.
“It was lying beside my man’s body. Cameron wears an amber stone. I saw it when we first met you.”
“Anyone could have planted it there,” Iona said. Marcus’ eyebrows shot up. “I mean, someone could have purposely left it behind to throw you off the trail.”
Iona looked closer. “Wait a minute. This isn’t the pendant Cameron wore. I saw it, too. His hung on a simple, rawhide lace, not this bit of bling.”
The others in the room stared at her.
“I mean, it’s too fancy. Cameron’s is simple.”
“She is right,” Fia said, helping Iona to her feet, “I complimented him on it when we dined together that first day.”
Iona had a hunch somebody had used Cameron’s well-known feelings for Haven to send everyone hunting for him, which in turn let the real kidnapper escape.
“Cameron was set up.”
“The lass has the right of it, and we are here to help.”
Iona waved at Dorcas Swann who entered the great hall from the direction of the bailey. Dorcas swept her gnarly cane in front of her to clear a path and the burly guards made way. Wary of the older woman’s earlier injuries, Iona hugged her. She looked fine. She held tight to her crooked staff, and a new amber necklace hung around her neck.
“Jake made the setting for me. Like it?”
“Yes, and we were just discussing another pendant, also made of amber. The setting was made of delicate gold. Sound familiar?”
Dorcas nodded.
“I thought you said yours broke? It was stolen, wasn’t it?”
When her skin took on the pallor of a ghost, Iona helped her to a seat by the massive fireplace.
“Is she okay?”
Iona turned toward the voice, then screamed with utter joy. She lifted her skirts, ran across the room, and flung herself into Jake’s open arms.
“Jake! You’re here,” she said. Pushing back, she gazed into his face. His blue eyes sparkled, and she couldn’t help smiling. He’d tied his thick, black hair into a tail, and had left behind his leather apron. His white shirt was open at the neck and his black leather trews clung to his thighs. A sudden pang, deep in her chest, brought tears to her eyes. His clothing reminded her of Cameron.
“Are you crying because you’re happy to see me, or—”
“Her lover is accused of kidnapping the laird’s woman,” Fia said.
“Fia!” She wanted to berate the young woman for telling lies, but her new friend had probably read the truth on her face.
A slight cough caught Iona unaware, and she turned and faced a pretty young woman. The tiny little thing wore a plain gray gown, but looked familiar. When Iona glanced from her blue eyes and black hair to Kirk, she voiced a guess. “Skye Gunn?”
“Yer good. Jake said ye were a smart lass. He dinna tell me ye were a beauty.” Skye crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Jake. He shrugged, and walked over to Marcus and Kirk.
“Hi. My name’s Jake Jamison. I’m a friend of Iona and Haven.”
Kirk roared, and his sword slashed the air. Before Iona cried out a warning, Jake grabbed a sword from the sheath on the back of a nearby guard, and blocked the blow. Steel grated on steel, sending sparks every which way. The two men traded blow after blow. That Jake didn’t bow beneath Kirk’s powerful slams surprised her.
“Stop!” Marcus strode between them, his own blade stilling their next blows. “God's teeth, Kirk, ye doona attack a guest in my home.”
Jake looked winded, but uninjured. Stepping closer, Iona put an arm around him and directed him to where Dorcas sat. As he collapsed on the bench beside Dorcas, his rapid breaths and shaking arms broadcast his agitated state. Kirk acted li
ke an animal; like a barbarian with a short temper.
“Are you okay?” Skye rushed to his side.
Jake nodded then turned back to Iona who stared at the pretty young woman that Jake ignored. Skye frowned and walked away to stand with Fia.
Jake’s sweaty brow and pale skin broadcast shock, but he smiled. “Glad I swing a hammer all day.”
Kirk grumbled a curse under his breath then said, “I beg your pardon, Marcus. Jamison's reputation precedes him. I will leave it at that.” He nodded a terse welcome to his sister, then stormed from the room.
“I've stepped into a hornet’s nest, when all I want is to offer my assistance. Why is he so riled up?” Jake said.
Iona glared at Kirk’s back until he disappeared. She paused before she answered. She had sensed Jake had feelings for Haven.
“He and Haven are together.”
“I see,” Jake jumped to his feet, then stood and stared into the flames inside the fireplace, obviously upset that Haven had made her choice.
Iona sighed, then glanced at the guards. Marcus was discussing strategy with some of the men, while others checked their weapons.
Kirk’s lethal reaction to Jake’s presence was more like that of a jealous husband. Had he fallen in love? Kirk had lashed out at a stranger when he should have been searching for Haven.
“This is all wrong.”
“What do ye mean?” Dorcas asked.
“They think Cameron kidnapped Haven. Their only proof is a dead body, an amber necklace, and Cameron’s well-known history concerning Haven.” Iona had not known about his feelings for her best friend, but Kirk and Marcus swore he wanted her.
“Aye, the necklace speaks volumes, since I know who took it from me,” Dorcas said.
“The sorcerer? Yes, you mentioned he grabbed the fake when he attacked you.”
“Aye.”
“I can't believe Cameron would rush a well guarded castle just to steal another man's woman. I think someone pretended to be him, kidnapped Haven, and left the necklace as a diversion.”
Marcus strode over to where Dorcas sat and Iona stood talking and said, “What is this about a diversion?”
“We have reason to believe a powerful sorcerer took Haven.” Iona looked to Dorcas, who nodded. Marcus paled.
“Tell us all ye know,” he said as he gathered his men.
Dorcas stood and spoke. “I was attacked and my amulet stolen. It is the same pendant ye claimed fell when the kidnapper killed yer guard.”
Iona was confused. Cameron wore the pendant Dorcas gave him before they left. He had used it to bring them back in time. The sorcerer must not have discovered it was a fake. Or, was it real? He wouldn’t leave a real amulet behind on purpose. Did he think the evidence would make Cameron appear culpable? Or, had he dropped it accidentally?
Rumblings among the men echoed through the great hall. Marcus raised a hand and they quieted. “Continue.”
“His name be Andreas Borthwick and he blames the Keiths, Gunns, and MacKays for the death of his beloved.”
“Haven is a MacKay, destined to marry a Gunn. God’s teeth, I shall kill him before he harms her. He can exact no better revenge than to kill—”
“No! There will be no more killing,” Iona said, stomping her foot. The men who had gathered around them grumbled curses, but waited for their leader’s instructions. A door slammed and their heads turned. Cameron strode in beside a frail, hunched man.
“Seize them!”
CHAPTER 22
Iona couldn’t believe her eyes, then cried out as the guards rushed to obey Marcus. Cameron stood holding the frail man’s elbow, then shoved the guard who nearly pulled his companion off his feet.
“Lord Mackenzie, do ye not recognize me?” the little man said.
Cameron wore a ragged brown cloak and hood over the familiar white shirt, kilt, and boots. He slipped off the borrowed cloak and glared at Kirk.
Marcus strode over to Cameron and the small man. When he flicked his wrist, his guards grabbed the man’s arms. Cameron growled as two large men removed his hidden weapons then grabbed his wrists.
He looked tired, but when his eyes met hers, Iona smiled. She turned away, not wanting him to see she’d missed him.
“Ye be the village healer. Why are ye with this man?”
“He came to me for assistance, to free his companion.”
“Me?” Iona squeaked. She turned toward the village healer. Her feet were rooted to the spot, even though she yearned to rush into Cameron’s arms. The guards held Cameron arms behind his back, so that wasn’t going to happen.
Who am I kidding? He wants Haven.
“How did ye get loose?” Marcus asked her, apparently only now realizing she wasn’t in her cell.
“Never ye mind, husband,” Fia answered for her, “Let us hear what the man has come to say.” Fia wrapped her arm around Iona’s.
“I use powdered herbs to make healing poultices and to lower fevers. I wanted to make ye aware that it is not witchery, just good medicine.” The man smiled at Iona while he spoke to Marcus.
When Marcus nodded, she relaxed. Cameron also stopped struggling with the guards. He had escaped from the dungeon and could have stayed away, but returned to plead for her freedom. Was he heroic? Did he return in order to right a wrong? Were his feelings for her true?
“Has Robeson been with you all this time?” Marcus asked.
“Aye. We spent the morning discussing what to do.”
Large footsteps thundered down the hall, from the direction of the bailey. A male voice boomed. “We need to find the bastard, Cameron Robeson, and save Haven.”
Iona jumped once more, with reason. She recognized the owner of the voice, and sensed the danger about to erupt just as Cameron reacted. Yanking his arms from the guards, he launched himself at his cousin. Kirk’s eyes widened as he registered the identity of his attacker. Cameron slammed headfirst into Kirk’s midsection, and they both hit the ground. The men rolled across the stone floor, cursing and punching.
“Where is she, ye fiend?” Kirk slammed a fist into Cameron’s nose. Blood spurted, and bones crunched. Cameron rolled and, splayed on top of Kirk, then reached down to his boot. When he raised his hand, he held his small but lethal sgian dubh.
“Stop! Cameron didn’t take Haven!” Iona wasn’t sure the men heard her as they rolled toward the nearest table. Benches went flying, and blood splattered the ground. Cameron suddenly plunged the short blade into Kirk’s shoulder.
Iona screamed. Kirk yelled a few curses, then punched Cameron in the head.
“Pull him off!” Before the guards could respond, Jake rushed over. Cameron growled as Jake forced him off of Kirk then held him facedown. Marcus assisted Kirk to his feet, and pointed to the healer who joined them on the dais. “This is our village healer. Let him check yer wound.”
While the healer attended to Kirk’s injury, Iona listened as Marcus explained that new information suggested a sorcerer had kidnapped Haven, and not Cameron. Kirk paled, and gestured for Jake to release Cameron.
Cameron shoved Jake off and sat up. He growled, and Jake backed away. Iona knelt at Cameron’s side, then struggled to help him to his feet. He was bleeding profusely, the blood staining his mouth and chin.
“Pinch the bridge of your nose.” She sat beside him on a bench, and dug out her scrap of white silk. He did, then winced. The nose looked broken. She dabbed his nose, and smiled up at his amber eyes.
“I have ruined something precious,” he whispered, but he wasn’t looking at the cloth.
“They thought I had taken Lady Haven?”
Iona nodded and inwardly cringed. Haven’s name came easily to his tongue. She wanted his tongue to…
“Iona? Did ye hear what I asked?”
She nodded, and inhaled a deep breath. “After you escaped, Kirk released me from the cell and hid me in Haven’s room. Someone forced his way past the guards and into her room. I didn’t see who took her, but everyone assumed it was you.”
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“Even ye?” He stared at where her hand had clasped around his. When he raised his head and gazed into her eyes, she held still. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of tears.
“No, I would never…”
“I could not leave ye behind but—”
“You had to go find Haven.” She didn’t mean to finish his sentence, but the pain-filled facts were clear. Iona loved Cameron; he loved her best friend; Haven loved Kirk. In what universe would anything good come out of such a mixed up love triangle?
“Nay. I left to find a way to set ye free. The village healer—”
“Never mind. Dorcas can explain to you what happened after that. Thank you for coming back, but I’ll be fine.”
“Lass, I never meant—”
“It’s okay. Really.” She turned to leave the room. Marcus walked up to them, bowed, then spoke to Cameron.
“Robeson, I will not return ye to a cell this night, but keep to yer room.”
Iona didn’t wait to hear Cameron’s response. She’d bolt her door. Giving herself to him one night was perfect when she thought he only had room in his heart for her. She knew better, now.
Iona said goodnight to Dorcas and Fia then retired to Haven’s room. If anyone wanted to protest, let them do it from beyond the barred door. When in contact with objects, she experienced premonitions. It only happened every once in awhile, but she had promised to keep an open mind. Since Haven’s personal belongings were in her room, Iona planned to sleep among them. Just in case something ‘spoke’ to her.
Climbing the stairs by the light of a single candle, she worried about her friend. What might the kidnapper do to her? Had he injured her unborn child? If she could summon a vision, then she might help find Haven.
Iona shut the door to Haven’s bedroom, and laid the bolt across the wood frame. She set the candleholder on the table next to Haven’s bed. Missing her friend, she collapsed on the bed. Even if she had a change of clothes, she was too tired to undress.
“What a day. I hope tomorrow’s a whole lot better,” she whispered, comforted by her own voice.
“I guarantee it will be worse.”
Adrenaline shot Iona off the bed in the opposite direction of the angry voice. She grabbed her sgian dubh from her pocket, unsheathed it, then slowly peeked over the bed.
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