Captured Hearts and Stolen Kisses

by Ceci Giltenan et al.

  One thought crystalized in Anna’s mind. Dear God, I can’t let them take me. As he lifted her onto his horse, she started fighting again for all she was worth, hammering him with her frozen fists and trying to twist away.

  He grabbed hold of her, pinning her arms to her sides and practically crushing the breath from her. “Stop it! Ye’ll behave and ride without fighting me or, by God, I’ll bind ye and throw ye over the horse face down.”

  Petrified by the threat and realizing the futility of her efforts, she ceased struggling. He put her on the horse’s back, mounting behind her. She began shivering uncontrollably. Perhaps he took pity on her because he pulled her close against him and wrapped his plaid around her before kicking his horse into a canter.

  “The back of yer dress is dry.” He sounded confused. “Ye didn’t fall in with the lad?”

  She shook her head.

  “He fell in while ye were crossing the ice with him? By God’s teeth lass, how could ye be so careless? A dead hostage has no value.”

  “Hostage? I don’t understand. I wasn’t crossing the ice with him.”

  “I’ll warrant that MacKays are not overly bright, but this stupid act ye are putting on will only bring ye misery.”

  “I don’t understand what ye think happened.”

  “Ye don’t?” His mocking tone only served to confuse her more. “Then why don’t ye tell me what did happen.”

  “Clearly ye won’t believe me.”

  “Tell me anyway.”

  Anna remained silent. She decided that the less she said the better. She was so cold she could barely form words anyway, but her captor didn’t accept her silence. He gave her another shake, “Answer me, lass!”

  She had never been so cold or so afraid. “I—I was on the bluff and I saw h-h-him walking toward the thinner ice. I tr-tried to get him to turn back but he didn’t hear me. He f-f-fell in before I reached him. I slid on my stomach until I could g-grab hold of him and pull him out. I removed his wet clothes and wr-wrapped him in my plaid and mantle to try and warm him. Th-th-that is when ye arrived.”

  “Do ye expect me to believe ye were on the bluff alone, this far from Naomh-dùn? And that Davy wandered away by himself? MacKays are stupid.”

  ~ * ~

  His son squirmed in Andrew’s arms, snuggling against him. Then Davy’s voice, penetrated the layers covering him. “I like riding with ye, Da, but I’m cold.”

  “I know, Davy, we’ll be home soon.”

  “Why did we leave the fire? It was warm.” His son clearly didn’t remember what had happened.

  That was a blessing at least, if he witnessed the ambush he wouldn’t remember the horror.

  “Hunting was fun but I wish ye hadn’t left me with Nessa. I’m big enough to go with ye. I would have liked that.”

  At that moment Andrew too wished with all of his heart that he hadn’t left the child, but he had believed his son was well-guarded. How could this have happened? “Rest now, lad, we’ll be home soon.”

  David was quiet again for a while but then he grumbled, “I don’t like staying with Nessa. She’s no fun. She just likes talking to the men and won’t play with me. I like dragon hunting,” he added sleepily. “That’s how I got cold. I went dragon hunting on the loch. The dragon must have broken the ice.”

  The lad looked as if he were trying to figure out what happened but clearly had no memory of it. Seeing his son’s furrowed brow, he said, “That must have been it.”

  Davy closed his eyes for a few moments. Andrew thought he slept until he spoke again. “Where is the angel, Da?”

  “Wheesht, Davy, everything is going to be all right.”

  “But where is the angel?”

  “There is no angel, lad. Rest now, we’re almost home.”

  “But where is the angel, the angel that pulled me out? She was pretty, only I didn’t see her wings. I wish I had seen her wings. Did ye see her wings?”

  “There was no angel. Wheesht.”

  David became more agitated. “Nay, Da, why would ye say that? There was an angel. Don’t ye remember? I got lost hunting a dragon on the ice and it broke. The angel pulled me out.”

  Andrew wanted to soothe his son’s agitation. “Don’t worry lad, the angel is fine.”

  David calmed. “Did ye see her wings, Da?”

  “Nay, I didn’t see her wings. Rest now, lad.”

  “I wish I had seen her wings. I wonder if they would be red like her hair.” With that Davy snuggled close to his father again and closed his eyes.

  When they arrived at Curacridhe, Andrew immediately sent for Isla, the MacLeod healer, then handed his son to Cormag just long enough to dismount. He rushed into the warmth of the great hall with his small bundle in his arms. He had barely reached his own chamber when Isla arrived and quickly checked David over.

  “Andrew, God must have great plans for Davy. When I heard he’d fallen through the ice so far away on Loch Islich, I feared the worst.”

  “It isn’t that far, Isla, riding fast it took much less than an hour.”

  “That may be, but wet and freezing that would have been too long for a wee lad in this bitter weather. I expected to find his hands and feet cold and waxy.” She rewrapped him in a warm blanket and moved close to the fire with him on her lap, gently warming him.

  “Will he be all right?”

  “Aye, Andrew, I think he will be. I need to warm him up to know for sure. It will help to get some hot liquids in him now, but drying him right away was his salvation. He might still take a fever but at least his limbs aren’t frozen. Frankly, I am surprised Nessa knew to strip the wet clothes off. That’s probably what saved his life.”

  There was a knock at the door before Andrew could correct Isla. He opened it to a serving maid who said, “Graham and Rory have just arrived with a woman. Graham asked me to fetch ye.”

  To Isla he said, “I have to see to this. I’ll be right back up.” He stroked Davy’s head once before leaving the room.

  When Andrew reached the great hall, their father was listening to Graham explain what had happened. Laird Dougal MacLeod glared at the bedraggled young woman who, still in wet clothes, stood before him shivering uncontrollably. Well woman was a bit of a stretch, he thought as he looked down at her. She appeared to be little more than a child herself.

  Dougal’s ice blue eyes shot daggers as he roared at her. “By God, wench, I’ll beat ye to death with my own hands if that lad dies.”

  ~ * ~

  Tall and powerfully built, Laird MacLeod resembled an angry Norse god with long grey hair and a flowing beard that still held hints of gold. He terrified Anna and she couldn’t understand why they didn’t believe her. Nay, that’s not true. The MacLeods hated the MacKays and the MacKays hated them back. They would naturally believe the worst about each other. At this moment she was fairly sure no MacLeod would have pulled a MacKay from an icy loch so they must assume the reverse was true as well. Even worse, they assumed she had abducted the child, allowing him to fall through the ice, and only saving him because of the ransom he would fetch. Piecing it together, she learned that the lad she saved was the laird’s grandson, David.

  The only blessing she could discern was they didn’t know her identity yet. Perhaps there was a chance she could escape without her brother finding out what she had done. He was the only person on earth who could possibly be angrier with her over this than Laird MacLeod appeared to be.

  The old laird looked up when the warrior who had taken the child from her entered the hall. His voice thick with concern he asked, “Andrew, son, how is the lad?”

  So that formidable warrior was Andrew MacLeod.

  “Isla thinks he’ll be all right.”

  “MacKay won’t get away with this, son.” He turned to Anna again. “Wench, what’s yer name?”

  “Eve,” Anna lied.

  “Who’s yer father?”

  “My father’s dead.”

  “Well praise God. The only good MacKay is a dead one.”


  Anna trembled and fought back tears at the thought of her dear father.

  “So, Eve, are ye the village whore?”

  Tears did slip down her cheeks at that. “Nay, Laird. I am a seamstress,” she whispered. It wasn’t a complete lie. She was skilled at needlework.

  “How many MacKay scum were with ye, Eve, the seamstress?”

  “No one was with me,” she answered barely above a whisper.

  “Why protect them? Yer clansmen have abandoned ye, but curs will do that, won’t they? If ye’re their whore, ye must not be a very good one.”

  “No one was with me, Laird. I didn’t take the child.”

  “Lying bitch,” Dougal spat and backhanded her with enough force to knock her to the floor. “Rory, toss her in a cell until we find out what happened. Then I’ll decide whether she dies quickly or just prays to die.”

  Before she could wipe the blood from her lips, Rory jerked her up roughly. Glancing around in a panic, her eyes locked with Andrew MacLeod’s for a moment and the venom she saw there sent another wave of fear and despair coursing through her. She could no longer hold the tears back. Dear God, please let me freeze to death soon so I never have to see these men again.

  The devil must have heard her thoughts because he said, “Give her something dry to wear.”

  “What?” asked Dougal. “Why?”

  “Isla said the only reason Davy will survive this is because this filthy MacKay stripped off his wet clothes and wrapped him in her dry plaid and mantle.”

  “Ye can’t ransom a dead child, Andrew. It was in her own best interest to keep him alive.”

  “Still, she did it. Give her something dry.”

  His father gave a curt nod and with that Andrew left the hall.

  Rory dragged Anna through another door. Taking a torch from the wall, he forced her down a flight of steep stone steps. At the bottom they entered a long dark hallway. She stumbled alongside him to the end of it until they reached another set of stairs, these even more steep and narrow than the first. When they reached the bottom, he pushed her through another door into a dark, cramped hall off of which were several small, dank cells with doors made of rusting iron bars. He shoved her roughly into one, slamming the door and locking her in. She had barely taken in the damp stone floor and the cell’s only furnishing, a wooden bed without a mattress standing against the back wall, before he left. Taking the torch with him, he left her in utter darkness.

  Frightened and colder than she had ever been in her life, she made her way to the bed and sat on it, drawing her knees to her chest, trying to conserve what little body heat she had. Dear God, what had she done? She should have just turned and gone home instead of venturing onto the ice. Nay, she never could have left the child to die, regardless of whether he was a MacLeod or not. I should never have walked the bluff in the first place. Nay, the child would have died then too. She could only believe that God had led her to where she needed to be, or at least to where the child needed her to be, but at what price?

  Rory returned shortly with a coarse woolen léine and a thin blanket. He tossed them into the cell before leaving again. With cold, numb fingers, Anna struggled to untie the laces of her garment, peeling off the damp heavy wool. The dress he brought her was much too large but it was warm and dry. She slipped it on, wrapping the thin plaid around her shoulders and over her head before curling up on the wooden bed. Still freezing, but overcome with exhaustion and despair, she fell asleep.

  ~ * ~

  Andrew tried to shake the disturbing image of the trembling MacKay lass with terror-filled eyes out of his mind as he returned to his son’s side.

  Isla still held David on her lap near the fire, but he was awake and drinking the soup that she patiently spooned into him.

  “Da, I told Isla about the angel who saved me.”

  “And I have been telling David that it wasn’t an angel, it was Nessa.”

  “Well it wasn’t Nessa,” said Andrew. “We don’t know what happened to her.” He shook his head slightly at her questioning look.

  David frowned. “I told ye Nessa didn’t save me, Isla. But, Da, nothing happened to her.”

  “Son, drink yer soup. Ye need it to warm ye up.”

  David acquiesced and finished the bowl. He curled up in Isla’s lap again and began to doze off. When she thought he was asleep she asked, “What happened?”

  “It isn’t clear. We think the MacKays attacked and abducted David, but we won’t know for sure until we find the men I left to guard him—or their bodies.”

  Isla made the sign of the cross. “God protect them. But if Nessa didn’t dry Davy, whose plaid and mantle was he wrapped in?”

  “They belong to a MacKay lass who we found him with. We think she didn’t act alone. There had to have been others. She might have lured him away while they attacked. Davy doesn’t seem to remember the attack, and for that I’m thankful. Apparently, while fleeing with him, she let him fall through the ice. Da is keeping her in the dungeon until we find out for certain exactly how she was involved.”

  “Is she the one that stripped his wet clothes from him?”

  “Aye.”

  “Well, at least she did that much. But poor Nessa, I hope she’s all right. She doesn’t deserve to be ravaged by a horde of MacKays.”

  “Nessa’s all right. She was talking by the fire when I left,” said David.

  “Oh, lad, I thought ye were asleep. I didn’t mean to wake ye,” said Isla.

  Andrew was puzzled by his son’s statement. “What do ye mean ‘Nessa was talking by the fire’? Was that when the MacKays took ye?”

  “No one took me, Da. I already told ye, I went dragon hunting. Nessa didn’t want to play so I went by myself.”

  “Ye went into the woods alone? The lass wasn’t with ye?”

  “Nessa was busy talking. I didn’t mean to go far but I got lost.”

  “I meant the MacKay lass. Didn’t she lead ye away?”

  “Nay. I was alone until I fell through the ice and the angel with red hair came and saved me.”

  “David, there was no angel, just the MacKay lass who stole ye.”

  “No one stole me, and I saw the angel.” He frowned. “She ran down off the bluff waving at me before I fell through the ice. Then she slid on her tummy and pulled me out of the water. I wonder why she didn’t fly. That would have been something to see. Anyway, I’m not sure exactly what happened next, but all of a sudden ye were there and ye took me from her before I could see her wings.”

  David seemed so sure of his story. His confidence disturbed Andrew.

  “Maybe he dreamt it?” Isla suggested.

  “He must have.”

  “I didn’t dream it, Da! Why won’t ye believe me? Ye saw her too.”

  “All right, son, let’s not talk about the angel anymore. Come here. I’ll tuck ye under the covers and stay with ye till ye fall asleep. Ye need to rest now.”

  He helped his son into the bed and sat with him until the lad was sleeping deeply. It chilled his heart to realize how close he had come today to losing his child, the last precious link to his wife. He wanted those responsible to pay. When David was sleeping soundly, Andrew rose to leave. “I’ll come back later. Send for me if ye need me, Isla.”

  The things David had said confused Andrew. He believed the MacKays had to be behind this, but the lad’s story never varied. When Andrew reached the great hall he joined his father and brother at the refectory table, sitting down wearily. “Is there any news?”

  “Not yet. Only Rory returned with me,” said Graham. “I sent the rest of the men to try to find out what happened. As soon as I arrived back here I sent another contingent out as well. I couldn’t get the lass to give me a clue about how many of them there were.”

  “Did she tell ye anything?” Andrew asked.

  “She wanted me to believe she saw Davy from the bluff. According to her, he was alone on the ice. She tried to get him to turn back but he fell in before she reached
him.”

  “She said she came from the bluff?” Andrew asked in disbelief.

  “Aye.”

  “Lies,” said their father.

  “I would have thought so, but Davy said the same thing. What else did she say?”

  “Something about sliding on her stomach to pull him out and taking his wet clothes off.”

  Andrew swore, scrubbing his face with his hands. “It can’t be.”

  “I believe he fell in and she was panicked enough about losing her hostage to get him out and try to warm him up. But I don’t believe she wasn’t involved with kidnapping him. She’s just lying to protect herself,” said Graham.

  “Graham, Davy has talked about the ‘angel’ who saved him every waking moment since we found them.”

  “It was just his imagination, son,” said their father reasonably. “There are no MacKay saints. How does he explain them stealing him in the first place?”

  “That’s just it, Da, he says no one stole him, he wandered away. He tells the same story she told ye. The ‘angel’ as he calls her, ran down off the bluff and pulled him from the water.”

  “Why would an innocent MacKay lass, and I use the term ‘innocent’ loosely, be on the bluff alone, that far from Naomh-dùn on a bitter cold day like today?” Dougal asked. “If she was there, she was probably up to no good. Nay, son, the MacKays are behind this.”

  At that moment, the men who had stayed with Nessa and David, along with the additional men Graham sent to find them, entered the great hall with a tearful Nessa in tow.

  Nessa rushed forward saying, “Laird, please forgive me. I was playing with little Davy and lost him. We looked everywhere. I never imagined he could walk all the way down to the loch. Please, Laird, I am so sorry.”

  “What?” roared Dougal.

  “Donald, explain,” demanded Andrew.

  Donald, the captain of the MacLeod guard could barely keep the irritation out of his voice. “I rode back from the loch expecting to find those left behind slaughtered. When we reached the clearing, we found everyone searching for Davy. There had not been an attack. It appears that Nessa simply hadn’t watched him properly and he wandered off. Everyone thought he was with someone else. I don’t know what that damned MacKay lass was doing at that end of the loch but it’s probably a good thing she was there. Everything seems to suggest she was alone. We found no signs of anyone else.”