“Aye. Have you seen Mama?”
“Aye. She came in for some broth and took her leave to escort a lass to her hut. She was not feeling well and your mother didn’t wish to leave her alone.”
“My thanks. I think I’ll assist her.” She moved through the kitchens and headed out the back door. She needed to get away, and this was as good an excuse as any.
Rather than take the main path, she circled around to the gates, slipped through them, and glanced in the direction of their small village, trying to determine how to find her mother. There were many paths to the cottages, and it was now dark, though there were many torches that lit the path because of the festivals.
Cailean yelled to her, “She went that way, Bethia,” pointing to the left.
Bethia thanked him and moved down the path he’d indicated, not seeing any evidence of her mother. More bellows and shouts were heard from behind her as those who’d already ingested too much ale began to leave the hall. Cailean and the other guards would have their hands full.
As she came to the end of the row of cottages, a voice called to her.
“She’s over here.”
Bethia moved in that direction, turned the corner, and stared straight at a fist heading directly toward her.
It was the last thing she remembered.
***
Donnan was filling a bucket with water from the stream when he heard approaching horses. A small group of guards reined to a stop outside his hut. Quade Ramsay, on one of the lead mounts, shouted at him, “Donnan, have you seen Bethia?”
He turned to face the group, his gut clenching. “Nay. I have not seen her since the festivities. Why?”
“She’s missing,” Quade replied. “No one’s seen her since she was given the title.”
“The title?” Her father was clearly concerned, and he felt worry for Bethia wash over him. What had happened?
Logan Ramsay said, “I gave her the title of Queen of the Festival.”
Donnan lost all ability to reason. “Why would you embarrass her like that?”
“Embarrass her?” Logan sounded genuinely baffled by the idea. “I gave her the reward she deserves for being the wonderful, caring, unselfish person she is. I’m tired of hearing others taunt her because of her size, which does not matter at all.”
“And do you think the other lasses will view it that way?” Donnan was furious, barely squelching his desire to choke Logan Ramsay for his foolishness. “And what do you think those cruel lasses said to her about winning? Have you not heard them tease her? Why, ‘twas why she ran away the night of her party. I’m sure she swallowed her pride and accepted your prestigious award, but an hour later, she probably ran away.”
“Ran away?” Logan glanced at his brother, giving him an incredulous look.
“Clearly you know naught about your niece.” He glared first at Logan and then at Quade to see how they accepted his declaration. How could they know so little about her? He knew. Because the lass he loved did nothing to draw attention to herself. She’d gone beneath their notice for too long, her sweetness blinding them to other aspects of her character—her doubts and questions, her passion and anger.
“And how would you know?” Logan asked.
Donnan dropped his voice to a whisper. “Because I love her. I know how the barbs from the other lasses her age affect her. You’re either blind, or you’re choosing to ignore it.”
Logan emitted a low-sounding growl.
“Enough, Logan,” Quade said. “He’s correct. Brenna shared with me how Bethia feels. Donnan, assume we agree with you. Where do you think she could have gone?”
Logan dismounted and started pacing in a circle a good distance from Quade and Donnan. “You’ve searched your castle, I’m sure.”
“Aye. Her mother is beside herself with worry because of Bearchun.”
The sweat dripped out of Donnan’s pores at the thought of Bethia in the hands of the addled man who’d hurt his dear Wynda. He went inside for a moment and brought something out.
Logan stopped his pacing abruptly. “What the hell is that?”
Donnan glared at him and replied, “This is one of the linen squares Bethia brought to use on Wynda. She dropped it.” He didn’t admit that he’d seen her drop it and purposefully kept it for himself. Her sweet scent was intoxicating. “My dogs will follow the scent.”
“Should we start here or go back to the keep?” Quade asked.
“I say we go back to the keep to pick up the freshest scent. I’ve trained the hounds to spread out in search of it. We have no time to lose.” He mounted his horse and whistled for the dogs to follow him. Before Logan had fully mounted, Donnan flicked the reins of his horse and headed back toward the Ramsay castle, the animals following him, even Wynda.
He pushed his horse, but the guards were still directly behind him. Once they reached the keep, he dismounted and whistled for the dogs. “Where was she last seen?”
Cailean, who’d fallen in with them, pointed to the end of one row of cottages in the village. “I sent her down this row after her mother, though Brenna never saw her.”
Donnan knelt down at the end of the row and called the dogs to him. He held the linen square out to each of them in turn, allowing them to learn her scent. Torrian came down the row with a few of his own hounds.
“Hold on to that, Donnan. Here’s another piece of her clothing,” he said. “We’ll set them all off at once and see what happens.”
He did as his laird instructed, allowing the dogs to sniff the different pieces of cloth. He rubbed Wynda’s ear and said, “I know you’re a bit slower than usual, but you have the best nose. Find the right direction and we’ll send the others ahead.”
Wynda wagged her tail, took another sniff of the linen square, and then set off to do her job.
Torrian stood and said to the rest of the hounds, “Go. Find my sister.” Then he waved the pack off. They followed his instructions and went off in different directions, their noses pressed to the ground.
Logan said to Torrian, “You do not truly think this will work, do you? I can track her better than the dogs.”
“But in which direction, Uncle? The dogs can narrow it down and send us on the correct path. They’ll pick her scent up in half an hour and they could save us several hours.”
As if on cue, Wynda’s tail wagged and she barked, calling Donnan to her. He ran over to her and a couple of other dogs picked up the same scent. Torrian said, “Mount up. Let them lead us as far as they can.”
They headed off into the forest, the pack of dogs leading the charge.
They hadn’t gone far when Logan jumped off his horse and into the bushes. He pulled a piece of fabric off a branch and stared at it. “Does this look like what she was wearing, Quade?”
His brother nodded.
The group continued on in the same manner for quite some time. They’d travel a bit, and Logan would find another piece of fabric, convincing them that they were on the right track.
Donnan felt sick to his stomach. They’d ridden far enough into the forest that he knew one thing for certain. Bethia hadn’t just wandered off on her own—she’d been dragged away, kidnapped, stolen. Where in the hell was she?
The Ramsays were convinced Bearchun had kidnapped her, but he wasn’t so sure. His wife had just left the area with two guards. She could have more hidden. Was she capable of such an evil act?
The further they traveled, the more clues turned up…and the more unsettled he became. This was too easy. What ultimately convinced him was Wynda’s behavior. At one point, she became confused, running in circles and whining, very uncharacteristic of her.
That’s when he knew what he had to do. “Ramsay!”
Logan and Quade both stopped their horses. “What is it?” Logan asked.
“We’re going the wrong way.”
“What?”
“I think we’re going in the wrong direction. This is too easy. Wynda isn’t acting right.”
Logan g
lared at him. “I’m sorry, but I’ll not change my actions based on a dog ‘not acting right.’ I’ve seen the evidence with my own eyes. We’re staying on this track.”
“Fine. I’ll follow my instincts and head this way.”
“Suits me. Go, Donnan.”
He didn’t wait. He called his dogs off and changed directions. There was no good reason for his sudden change, only instinct.
His gut told him the others were going the wrong way.
Chapter Nineteen
Logan Ramsay’s head pained him from all the doubt and chaos. His dear niece was missing, and he feared she might have been kidnapped by Bearchun.
Donnan’s announcement that he was going the wrong way had made him uneasy. He’d always been the best tracker in the clan, hadn’t he? So how could he be wrong?
But something Donnan had said rang true. It was all too easy. Even so, he had to see it finished before he followed Donnan.
After he found the fifth scrap of clothing, they started to hear noises. Torrian turned toward the others and held his hand up to signal quiet. Sure enough, they heard voices in a clearing ahead, though they weren’t close enough to make out any words.
Logan dismounted and crept up to the group, hiding behind bushes, Cailean behind him. One had his back to him. He listened, wanting to see what they knew about Bethia, if anything. The one facing him was definitely not Bearchun, but the one with his back to him could be.
He almost salivated with excitement at the prospect of finally getting his hands on the bastard who had tortured his family with pain and worries for months.
Both kept their voices low but laughed about something. He held his breath until he could make out their words.
“All those Ramsay bastards think they’re smarter than everyone.”
“They’ll see the truth of it, will they not? We’ll show them.” The man chortled with glee.
Logan could stand it no longer. He burst into the clearing, cut the one facing him down with one swing of his sword, then threw his weapon down and jumped on the remaining one. “I’ll kill you with my bare hands, Bearchun. You’ll not live after touching my niece. Where is she?” He wrestled the lout to the ground on his back, pulled his fist back, and aimed it at the villain’s face, only then realizing something shocking.
It wasn’t Bearchun.
He stood up and grabbed the fool by the neck. “Where is my niece?”
Quade and Torrian burst in behind him, the guards surrounding them in an instant.
“I’ll ask again before I choke the life out of you. Where is my niece?”
The man dared to smile at him. “You’ll never find ‘em.”
“The hell I won’t.” Logan threw him against a tree and started to pummel him. Every two punches, he paused to ask him, “Where? Where is she?”
Torrian moved over and stilled his hand. “Did he say them?”
Logan must have heard wrong. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“He said, ‘find ‘em.’ Who is them?”
The man guffawed, throwing his head back. “Bearchun was right. He knew we could pull you off the real trail. You’ll never find them. You followed the wrong trail, and now they’re way ahead of you. ‘Twas brilliant to tear her clothing and leave pieces for you and the dogs. Now you’ll never find them without my help.”
Logan called two guards over and said, “Hold him.”
Quade yelled at him. “You need to keep him alive, Logan. He’s the only one we have. You killed the other.”
“I’ll keep the bastard alive.” He punched him in the belly twice, then said, “Where are they?”
The man coughed but said naught.
Logan dragged him over to the bushes off to the side. “Do you see those nettles? I’m going to lay your bollocks in them and drag you across them until you scream your answer.”
The prisoner’s eyes widened, but he said naught. Logan couldn’t wait any longer. He said to the guards, “Remove his plaid. You’ll each take one leg, and we’ll force him down on the nettles, bollocks first.”
The man attempted to cover his bollocks, but Logan kneed him first. The man doubled over in pain and said, “I’ll tell, I’ll tell. Please, no more.”
“Where are they?”
The man heaved once and said, “He split them up. She has Bethia and he has the wee ones.”
Logan closed his eyes, unable to believe this had happened to them again.
“Where?”
“Cairnie Castle.”
“Tie him to the tree and take his weapons,” Logan said. “If he’s lying, we’ll be back.”
Logan strode over to his horse.
Torrian and Cailean were quick behind him. “What’s your plan?” Torrian asked.
“Go back and get more warriors. We’re headed to Cairnie Castle.”
Quade limped behind his brother. “You have a sick look on your face I don’t like. He must have Jennet and Brigid. The guards will already be searching for them. Mayhap they’ve found them. Why the look?”
“And Donnan knew we were going the wrong way,” Torrian said. “Mayhap he’s already saved Bethia. We could be in luck.”
Logan stopped before he mounted his horse, waiting for his brother to catch up. “You could all be correct. Mayhap this has ended already, but one fact is niggling at me.”
“What?”
“Who do you think the woman at Cairnie Castle is?”
“Glenna,” Cailean said immediately. “Donnan’s wife was here earlier. Must have been a trick.”
“Hell, mayhap Sorcha did choose well.” He clasped his son-in-law’s shoulder. “Cailean’s right,” he said as he peered at his brother and his nephew.
“Glenna must be part of this, and she is daft. Our lasses will be split up, which makes the situation so much worse.”
They mounted up in silence, the truth weighing them down.
“I pray Donnan has been able to find Glenna and Bethia,” Logan finally said. “At least he had traveled ahead of us.”
***
Bearchun picked at the remainder of the scab across his face. He forced himself to stare at the bloody bit of scab, doing his best to convince himself he was cured of his strange affliction. Hellfire, but the thing still itched terribly. Then he rubbed the wound on his shoulder. That bastard had caught him good, though it wasn’t his sword arm. When would his agony end?
He smiled. It was about to end. All he had to do was tolerate the foolish bitch who continued to annoy him.
“You promised me if I helped you that you’d bring me to Cairnie Castle and I could be the princess of the castle.” She flung her red hair back over her shoulder.
He glared at her, stopping as he paced in front of the small cottage where he’d taken the lasses. “Did you truly believe me? Because there is no such thing as a princess in the land of the Scots—only Margaret, and your name is not Margaret. You would have to go to London, then see if you could find yourself a prince to marry. ‘Tis the only way you can be a princess, though you can keep wearing that foolish crown on your head all you please.”
“I’m Queen of the Festival. I need to go back.” Her hands went to her hips and she glared at him. “I just wished to help you tie up Bethia. I hate her. But I don’t hate the wee ones. Why did you have to steal them away?”
She spun on her heel and strode away from him. “I’m leaving. You lied to me. You told me I could be a princess.”
“I wouldn’t go back that way on your own, lass.”
“Why not? I can find my way. Gormal is probably looking for me.” She continued on her way, ignoring him.
“Because there is a steep ravine up ahead and you may not see well enough in the dark. If you are not careful, you may hurt yourself. Go to the left a bit.”
The foolish chit listened to him and moved to the left, exactly where the ravine was located. A few seconds later, he heard a scream and then a sound of crunching bones that made him laugh. He waited until she landed at the bott
om with a thud. Deciding to go after her, he trudged toward the ravine, though chances were good that she’d run into a boar or a couple of snakes at the bottom.
Dead silence.
He peered over the edge of the ravine. “Colina?”
No answer. He crawled down a few rocks, looking for her. She was a pretty lass, though her attitude was difficult at best. When he found her, he turned away and said, “Ouch.” The tumble over the edge had snapped her neck. She lay dead in a heap.
He shook his head and climbed back up the side, being careful not to end up in the same condition. He trudged back to the cottage, scratching his scar again. “Foolish twit.”
Once inside the cottage, he lit a torch. The bigger of the two lassies was awake.
She sat up and stared at him. “I curse you,” she whispered.
He chuckled. “You can’t do much all tied up the way you are. Curse me all you want, but even I know a witch needs her hands to cast her spells.”
Jennet said, “Aye, I can still curse you. I send spiders down to lay their eggs in your fresh scar. You know they like new skin, do you not?”
A spider landed on his shoulder and he screamed loud enough to awaken the other one, Brigid. He shoved the creature off him and stepped on it. “I know, you only said that because you saw it coming toward me. I’m not a fool.”
She cackled and Brigid stared at him wide-eyed. “What are you going to do with us?” the wee lassie asked with a whimper.
“I’m waiting for your sire to come for you. I want Logan and Torrian Ramsay to pay. I would say Quade, too, but he’s feeble now. But not to worry, they’ll be here soon.” He spun on his heel and laughed on his way back out the door.
He’d kill Logan Ramsay. But not before the man realized that Bearchun had killed his daughter and two of his beloved nieces. He would be glad to end Jennet’s life. A small part of him knew it was wrong. She was just a wee lassie, but she’d cursed him again. He didn’t like witches.
Revenge would finally be his, and it would be sweet, total, and devastating to the Ramsays.
Chapter Twenty
Donnan arrived at Cairnie Castle in the middle of the night. The castle appeared deserted. He wondered where his sister and her husband could be.
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