The Flame on the Moor

by Fiona Neal

  The two women began to cry hysterically.

  “Stop that wailing!” Strathaven demanded.

  “Very well, my lord,” the scarred man cried, “but if the lady is gone, it is because she had escaped.”

  “No one else could have taken her?” Ian asked.

  “Nay, my lord,” the man with the broken nose answered. “We were to take her ladyship to Calais to an inn called the Colombe D’Or.”

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you and your two doxies, but your itinerary has been changed,” Strathaven interjected. “Your next port of call will be the gallows.”

  The women began to wail, and the men shook visibly.

  “That is unless you tell us who hired you,” Ian said. “I can ask the judge to give you a more lenient sentence if you cooperate.”

  “Aye, my lords,” the two men answered. “We’ll tell you everything.”

  * * * *

  Deirdre ran until she thought her lungs would burst. She had put a good deal of distance between herself and her captors, now finding herself across the Clyde River. Pistol still wrapped in her petticoat, heart hammering, she stopped. She unwound the linen garment from the weapon. A large hole with scorched edges marred the fine fabric, and the petticoat reeked of gunpowder. She folded it and tucked it under her arm.

  Putting the gun in her pocket tied under her skirt, Deirdre patted her still-flat stomach, hoping all the strain of the past few days had not harmed her baby. She felt certain Ian would allow her to spend the rest of her pregnancy at Kilbraeton. After all, he wanted his heir even if he no longer desired her.

  Somehow, she must make him understand that she loved him—oh God, how she loved him—and desperately wanted to repay the money.

  Her breath now restored, Deirdre trudged up High Street past the mercat cross and the commercial section of the town to Duke Street. Praying she would not miscarry, she finally arrived at the townhouse.

  Padraig saw her and rushed forward, his eyes wide. “My lady, we have all been frantic! Lord Kilbraeton and Lord Strathaven are searching for you as we speak. He thought you had been abducted.”

  “He deduced correctly. Fortunately, I escaped.”

  “I thank God you are well and have returned to us. They killed Gordon.”

  “Oh, I am so sorry, Padraig.”

  “I ken you are, but you look weary to the bone. How can we serve you, my lady?”

  “I’d like a bath and a long nap.”

  “Immediately, my lady,” he said. “I’ll inform the housekeeper.”

  Deirdre slowly plodded up the steps to her room. She removed her weapons, placing them in the dressing table drawer.

  Moments later, a young maid entered and bobbed a curtsy. “The housekeeper said you’d be needing help with a bath, my lady.”

  “Aye,” Deirdre answered.

  It took less time to get out of her clothes since she left one petticoat and her panniers behind. At last, Deirdre stood clad in her shift, her bare toes sinking into the thick pile of the crimson Turkish carpet.

  A knock heralded more servants bearing a copper bathtub and bathing accoutrements entered. Still another carried a tray with tea, while another laid a fire.

  The tub filled, all the servants made their departure except the young, dark-haired maid.

  “What is your name?” Deirdre smiled.

  “It is Annie, my lady.” The girl’s bright hazel eyes sparkled as she helped Deirdre into the tub.

  The soothing, heather-scented water relaxed her tired muscles, reminding her that she had not slept since the day before yesterday. Annie handed her the soap, and Deirdre lay back, soaking the face flannel, working it up with a rich lather.

  “I wish to soak a while. Return in half an hour, Annie.”

  The girl curtsied and left.

  Exhaustion settled over Deirdre, but her mind refused to rest. Why did Gordon let the abductors in? Did he know them? Dear God! Were the other servants in Ian’s employ in league with the kidnappers?

  Suddenly, she felt her head pushed forward and plunged beneath the surface of the water. Shocked, Deirdre struggled, her hand grabbing at what held her down. Her fingers desperately clutched around what felt like thin wrists.

  Someone was trying to drown her!

  Chapter Twenty

  Deirdre continued fighting to free herself, but her body screamed for air. Suddenly her hands fell from her tormentor’s wrists as she pretended to give up the battle, hoping her attacker would relent. But the cruel pressure on Deirdre’s head and neck only increased.

  She could not die. She must fight for her child! Calling on her last reserves of strength, she grabbed the sides of the tub while bending her kneels to her chest. With all her might, she pushed upward, using her legs like springs.

  The tub turned over, and watered splash as she and her would-be murderer toppled to the floor. Free of the death grip, Deirdre inhaled a deep breath. She pushed her dripping hair away from her face and opened her eyes to see Lady Mary MacNeill!

  Still dazed, Deirdre heard footsteps followed by the voice of a young woman as Lady Mary rose, her sodden clothes and disheveled hair dripping with soapy water. Out of the corner of her eye, Deirdre saw Annie hurrying toward her.

  “Forgive me, my lady!”

  A scream and a large thud interrupted her words. In her attempt to flee, Lady Mary had knocked Annie down.

  Shivering and soaking wet, Deirdre gasped for breath and croaked out, “Annie, stop Lady Mary! She tried to drown me.”

  The poor girl struggled to her feet and ran into the corridor. “Stop the widow,” she shouted. “She’s a killer!”

  Deirdre crawled toward the bed to retrieve the large towel. Before she could complete the task, Annie scrambled to her and draped the thick cloth around her, then wrapped another around her head.

  Seconds later, Deirdre heard Padraig’s voice boom out, “Nay so fast, my lady.”

  Wild shrieks and the sounds of a loud scuffle echoed through the corridor.

  Her footsteps squishing on the sodden carpet, Annie hurried toward Deirdre and helped her up, exchanging the wet towel for a warm robe. “Pray, pardon me, my lady. The time slipped away. But I did not expect Lady Mary to harm you.”

  “I can hardly believe it myself.” Still trembling, Deirdre sat by the hearth and began to towel dry her hair, trying to recover from the shock. Betrayed by someone she had trusted, she felt cold to the depths of her soul.

  “You’re shaking, my lady.” Annie took the teakettle from its stand, poured a cup of hot tea and handed it to Deirdre.

  Deirdre gratefully drank it as she sat in front of the roaring fire while the maid combed the tangles from her hair. “That is enough, Annie. You may go now.”

  The girl curtsied and quit the room.

  Loneliness closed on her like the lid of a coffin. She needed Ian. She longed for his quiet strength and the reassurance of his warm embrace so much she ached. But she had lost him forever. She wept, realizing how shocked and betrayed Ian must have felt when he discovered she was The Flame.

  Suddenly, she recognized the sound of his footsteps outside her door. Deirdre turned to see her husband rush through the door.

  “Sweetheart, I thought I might never see you again!” He swept her up into his embrace, kissing her and holding her close.

  She threw her arms around his neck and began to cry. “I have never been so happy to see anyone in my life. Lady Mary tried to kill me!”

  “I know. I hurried back because I feared she would try.”

  “Why, Ian? I have never harmed her. Even my kidnappers did not want to hurt me.”

  “Quiet, sweetheart,” he said softly. I’ll explain later. Padraig and Strathaven have locked her in the storeroom with a guard outside the door. She cannot hurt anyone again. Right now, I just want to hold you.” He carried her into his room, kicking the door shut behind them.

  “Aye, Ian, do not let me go.” A need for intimacy, born of the desperate knowledge that she had almost l
ost him, overwhelmed her. Her longing transcended mere physical desire. She craved a complete merging, a blending of their spirits so that their union would create them again as fine new parts of a complete whole.

  She looked up, and their gazes fused. Deirdre felt his excitement radiate from his powerful body as his arms suddenly tightened around her even more. His lips hovered close to hers and his sweet breath fanned her face, but he did not advance.

  His restraint inflamed her. Her own heart leapt into a rapid tempo as tremors of need pulsed through her. Taking the initiative, she kissed him with all the tumult of emotions she felt, savoring the clean taste of his mouth and velvety texture of his tongue.

  He broke the kiss. “Deirdre, perhaps we should wait. You have been through a terrible ordeal.”

  Her finger on his lips stilled his words. “Nay, Ian. I need you now. What we feel for each other can heal us both.”

  He set her on her feet and pulled back the covers of the bed.

  Deirdre removed his jacket, hurling it on the chair. She reached behind him and took the black narrow ribbon from his queue, letting it slip to the floor. Raking her fingers through his hair, she urged his lips to hers, savoring the taste of his mouth as his embrace sheltered her.

  Deirdre relinquished hold of his thick locks, and between kisses she helped him doff his clothes until a pile of garments lay at their bare feet, and her body throbbed with need.

  Slowly, she slipped off her wrapper. He looked at her with hot longing in his eyes as he tenderly caressed the slope of her jaw. His strong arms encircled her again, and they stood pressed together, his erect manhood against her belly, the crisp hair on his chest teasing her nipples.

  “Oh, Deirdre, I thought I would never hold you again.”

  “I feared the same thing,” she whispered, her body clamoring for complete union. “But I do not want to think of that ever again.”

  He carefully lifted her onto the bed then nestled between her thighs, feasting on her lips, neck, and breasts, working his way over her belly and hips.

  She gasped as her back arched and moaned softly, “Now, Ian.”

  They merged gently, and Deirdre felt as if their souls and minds melded together, forming an unbreakable bond between them.

  He began his rhythmic choreography, each stroke increasing the tension, lifting them toward the summit of pleasure.

  Finally, he shuddered at the same moment her body pulsed with ecstasy. Still embedded within her, he whispered. “That was closeness beyond anything I ever dreamed.”

  “I felt it too.”

  He rolled from her, cradling her with the utmost tenderness.

  “I was so frightened when they abducted me, love.” She caressed his cheek. “My life flashed before my eyes, and I regretted so many things. I was terrified for our baby and that I had caused you to hate me.” She began to cry.

  “When I thought I lost you, I realized how silly I had been. I love you, Deirdre. I think I have loved you since the first day you made me laugh about old Kilrannoch.”

  Tears of joy welled in her eyes and overflowed. “And I love you, Ian, more than I can ever say.”

  He held her close. “I will never leave you again, sweetheart, but you are out of danger now. The kidnappers have revealed their employer’s name.”

  “Lady Mary is one of them,” she said.

  “Aye, it was her accomplices who abducted you. She poisoned Gordon and let them into our home. The house where you were confined belongs to her.”

  She disengaged and sat up. “Why does she hate me, Ian?”

  “I do not know, but we will find out later. I plan to interrogate her before she is brought to the tolbooth.”

  “Speaking of justice,” Deirdre said, “I want to resolve the issues between us, Ian. I need to repay my so-called benefactors as soon as possible. I wish to give birth to my child with a clear conscience. That is the reason I wanted to sell the necklace.”

  “I will contact your creditors, and arrange an invitation to Kilbraeton. Then we will have a messenger deliver payment from a stranger, along with a note for each of your unwilling partners. I think you should reimburse your victims with some interest as well.”

  “They do not deserve it, Ian. They dispossessed their people.”

  “Deirdre, you broke the law, and your sentence is quite lenient.”

  “Nevertheless, I am paying a fine.”

  “What about three percent?” he suggested.

  “Oh, all right, if you arrange a pardon for Fergus.”

  “Consider it done.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Now, take a nap.”

  “I am hungry,” she admitted.

  “So am I.”

  “I have enough breakfast in my room for us both.”

  He went for the tray, and they devoured the meal.

  “Now will you rest?” Ian asked, getting up and placing the tray on the nightstand.

  “What will you do while I sleep?”

  He slipped into bed beside her. “I think I shall stay here and hold you in my arms.”

  She yawned, snuggling next to him. “I like this arrangement.”

  * * * *

  Several hours later, Ian woke. The long shadows on the walls indicated that he and Deirdre had slept most of the day. Indeed, she was still sleeping after her ordeal. He held her closer and felt as if he were embracing heaven. Gratitude flooded his heart, and he offered a silent prayer that his wife had returned to him unharmed. But what were Lady Mary MacNeill’s motives? She had no need of ransom money. Why would she consort with the Jacobites and try to murder a friend?

  Ian intended to question her immediately!

  He eased from the bed, dressed, and went in search of Strathaven. Ian found him reading in the library on the second level.

  “I am sorry to interrupt you, Rory, but I need a witness.”

  Strathaven smiled and set down his book. “I wondered when you would come. I have a feeling you want to interrogate Lady Mary.”

  “I do.” Ian walked to the bell-lever, summoning a servant.

  Strathaven raised his eyebrows. “I must admit, I was never so stunned in my life.”

  Ian nodded, sitting down as a servant came to the door. “Have Lady Mary brought from the wine cellar. We wish to interrogate her here. And leave her wrists bound.”

  “Wise decision,” Strathaven added. “She will try to escape.”

  “I suppose I’d run myself if I faced prison and possibly the hangman.”

  “It’s a pity. The woman is so lovely.” Strathaven shook his head.

  “Evil often has a seductive exterior,” Ian remarked. “That is why it poses such a danger. It dazzles and beguiles us.”

  “Aye,” Deirdre added, surprising them as she entered the room. “She certainly had us all gulled. I even hoped she and my uncle would marry. She might have killed him.”

  Strathaven stood. “She may have killed her late husband.”

  “It is possible.” Ian walked toward his wife. Taking her hand, he led her to the sofa. A woman’s voice, shrill with a string of curses, interrupted their conversation as several servants ushered a disheveled and struggling Lady Mary into the chamber. Contorted with rage, the woman’s face no longer seemed beautiful. Ian placed a chair in front of the sofa, and the servants shoved her into its seat.

  Lady Mary glowered at them, lifting her chin defiantly.

  Ian sat next to his wife. “I need not explain the seriousness of your situation, Lady Mary.”

  “Did you have those oafs maul me just to state the obvious?” she sneered.

  Ian shook his head. “I want answers.”

  “Why should I satisfy your morbid curiosity?” Her eyes glittered with malice.

  “Because you face charges of treason, murder, and kidnapping,” Ian replied. “Your Jacobite accomplices revealed your part.”

  “Stupid fools,” Lady Mary hissed.

  “Why did you kill poor Gordon?” Ian asked.

  “I did not mean to kill
him. Perhaps I dosed his dram with too much laudanum. I gave the same to you and Lord Strathaven.”

  “So you’d be sure we would not wake when the kidnappers entered the house.”

  “Aye, especially if you were sharing Deirdre’s bed.” The widow gave Ian a cold stare.

  “It tasted foul,” Strathaven answered. “We did not imbibe.”

  “Many men drink for the effect rather than the taste,” Lady Mary replied.

  “Why did you try to kidnap me?” Deirdre asked. “You could have chosen another hostage.”

  Lady Mary glared at her with naked hatred. “I wanted to punish Robert. I wished to make him pine for the one person he loved—the way I had to.”

  “Oh!” Deirdre cried.

  Lady Mary stood. “Then I wrote to my real prince, Charles Stewart. His highness and his advisors liked the idea. The ransom money would help finance another invasion. While you were held hostage in France, Robert would have only me. But I would watch him suffer, the way I suffered for loving him. When the prince overthrew the House of Hanover, he promised to make me a duchess.”

  Lady Mary began to pace. “I went to Calais to meet Alan Stewart, the prince’s agent. We planned to ensnare you into a trap and kidnap you with Jacobites I’d hire for the abduction who were posing as my servants. That way they could travel with me without arousing suspicion. But when I returned to Skye, Ballanross was crawling with soldiers because of that stupid rogue, The Flame.”

  “So you had to change your plans,” Ian stated.

  “Aye,” Lady Mary sneered. “We scuttled your ship by burning it, hoping to lure you to Glasgow so I could entice your wife beyond the walls of Ballanross without your inference, Lord Kilbraeton.”

  “Add arson and manslaughter to your crimes,” Strathaven commented.

  The widow ignored him. “Then I came to Kilbraeton. But before we could execute my scheme, Strathaven informed me that Lady Kilbraeton had disappeared. He also told me Fergus had been arrested and the reason why.”

  “And knowing her ladyship, you knew she would go to help him,” Strathaven remarked. “And you made me believe you were so concerned about her.” He gave her a look of disgust.