Claimed By A Charmer (The Pith Trilogy)

by Griffin, Kara

  “I don’t know how to do that, Mother. I only want to kill him, and all the Dunmores.”

  “You mustn’t. Explain it to him, just as you have to me. He’ll have to understand. You must stop this feuding at once. Your father wouldn’t be happy about this, and he wouldn’t want you to continue it.”

  Douglas’ misery felt so heavy in his chest, but he agreed the feud must end.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Isabel spent a restless night in Candace’s chamber. She entered the hall and placed a smile on her face when she saw Lady Kerr.

  “I’m glad you’ve returned unharmed, Isabel. Douglas tells me that you wanted to rescue the lassies at the asylum and that you’re angry with him.”

  She set down her goblet. “He wouldn’t take them with us. I wasn’t able to help them, and I feel guilt. How could we just ride away without a care?”

  “Do you deem that’s what ye did?”

  “Aye. I left my good friend, Romy, behind with her babe. Her fate is to be subjected to the ill humors of that horrid friar. He is supposed to give them refuge for the church, and yet, he offers them to men for their cursed use. Nate told me so.”

  “Does the church know about his deeds?”

  “Even if it did, would it matter? The church is not likely to care about young girls who are forced to submit to their betters.”

  “Oh, you should talk to Douglas about your feelings, and mayhap he will go back to save those girls. You are going about it the wrong way. He wanted to get you away from that evil place.”

  “It doesn’t matter now. I’m going to my room and rest.”

  “Wait, Douglas put Rachel in your room. I’ll have her moved, she’s well enough now.”

  Isabel stared at her. He put her in their room? And why had they let her return? She was a serpent, who should be … What the devil was she doing here? Isabel wouldn’t let that woman stay.

  “I don’t want her here, have him take her home. And I’ll not share a room with him either. Tell him he can share it with her.”

  “Isabel, you’re being unreasonable.”

  “Unreasonable, pish, that lady handed me over to my brother. How could you let her return?” Isabel walked away angrily. She went to the back of the keep and kept walking until she was alone. Feeling dejected and hurt, she sat on a wall along back on the keep. Tears glistened in her eyes, but she wouldn’t let them fall. How had she thought he was a gentleman and a charmer? Somehow she would figure a way to go back and save her friend and the other girls.

  There wasn’t a moment’s rest as Isabel set about her day, and worse, she didn’t feel well. A twinge kept reminding her of the stomach upset she had earlier. Shelagh kept her busy with household chores. Isabel stood on the steps, getting air, and after wiping her hands on her apron, she went back inside the hall. She had three loaves of bread to prepare, and went to the kitchens. Then she went up stairs to see if Candace felt better. The room was dark; she hadn’t gotten out of bed yet.

  “Candace, come, you’ll feel better if you rise.” Isabel pulled Candace’s plaid off, but still she didn’t move. Isabel knew how to get her from the bed, she picked up the pitcher which was halfway full, enough to get her moving. She dumped the contents over her head.

  Candace shrieked. “What are you doing?”

  “Now, you’ll get out of that bed.” Isabel sat next to her, hugging her, as water drops soaked her too. “Douglas left.”

  “Where did he go?”

  “To get Wills, now will you be reasonable?”

  Candace nodded.

  “It won’t help to sit around like a plump sheep. Come and smile for me. I need your encouragement. You’ll see; Douglas will bring Wills back, and everything will be well.”

  Candace returned her hug.

  “I want to see you in the hall for dinner, Candace. Go see your mother, she’s worried about you.” She felt better once she left Candace’s room.

  Onward to Rachel. She tapped on the door and heard Rachel’s voice. She wasn’t prepared for the sight, when she opened the door. Rachel had been badly beaten. She gasped when Rachel faced her and she couldn’t help but be affected.

  “I, oh, Rachel, how are you feeling?”

  Rachel cast her eyes downward, and must have felt so lowly for what she’d done.

  “Rachel, talk to me.”

  “I can’t, I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I helped them because I was afraid.”

  “I know.” She patted the only part of her that didn’t seem bruised, her hand.

  “Can you ever forgive me? You were so kind and I wouldn’t blame you, should you not find it in your heart to forgive me.”

  “You hurt me and put me in such danger, but if it wasn’t for that, I would not have helped my friend Romy. It must have been God’s will that sent me there again.”

  “You must hate me, I will understand if you wish to strike me.”

  “As much as you have hurt me, Rachel, I couldn’t do that. Why did you do it?”

  “Irving would have killed me, had I not agreed to assist him. At first it was easy because I hated the Kerrs as much as he did, but then I got to know them. They are such a loving clan. After your brother came and I …” Rachel let a tear fall. “I know there is no excuse, Isabel, but I was afraid of Nigel the most. He told me what to do, and like a coward, I did it.”

  “Did Nigel beat you?”

  “Nay, Nigel left with you. I returned to Irving’s and the witch did this.”

  “I’ve some herbs I can mix if you are in pain.” Isabel had to do something for her, and she realized the poor lady had been in even a worse predicament.

  “I don’t need anything. I’m trying to stay out of sight until these bruises fade. I don’t want him to see me.”

  “Douglas?”

  “Nay, Cedric,” Rachel confessed.

  “You’re fond of Cedric?”

  Rachel lowered her head. “It seems there will be child born in the fall.”

  Isabel’s eyes widened. “Are you saying that—”

  “Aye, Cedric is the father. I was able to keep Nigel from my room when I was at Irving’s. It was difficult, he stalked me. Cedric is the only man I’ve been with in a long time.”

  “I’m sorry about my brother, he’s a rat. I know how you must have felt, likely the same as me, scared. What will you do about Cedric? He deserves to know about his child.” Isabel poured water in a cup and handed it to her. She then straightened up the chamber.

  Rachel finally spoke after some minutes. “I know I have to tell him, but I can’t face him yet.”

  Isabel nodded. “I truly don’t despise you, Rachel. You can never return to the Dunmore’s now. I’m sure Douglas will let you stay here.”

  “I would like that.”

  Isabel walked to the door, smiling at her as she left.

  She placed her hands over the globe of light, feeling energy flowing inside her body.

  “Magical charge, give me the power of victory over him. He won’t concede, and doesn’t remember me. Come, warrior, come, and let it be done. The killing will be so fulfilling.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Douglas called a halt and waited until his men reached the summit where they could look down on the Dunmore keep. His eyes scanned the ramparts and outer walls. He counted the men on watch. The drawbridge wasn’t lowered, and they would have to scale the walls to gain entrance. He saw a small band of men ride to the gates from inside the lower bailey. Heavy chain clanked when the drawbridge lowered. Four men hastily rode through, the drawbridge closed.

  His eyes searched out the Sassenach pig. He spotted one man dressed in the usual English attire; three others wore the Dunmore plaid. He rode swiftly toward the four men, and had his sword drawn before he reached them. The Dunmore men tried to flee, but his warriors flanked their backs. They pulled their swords out, and Douglas took on the task. He jumped from his horse, anticipating revenge, tasting the bitterness of it.

  “Nigel Calve
rt.”

  “Who are you? What do ye want with us?”

  “Douglas Kerr, you demon, son-of-a-bitch.”

  “You’re the Kerr Laird?” He looked around for an escape, but his eyes returned to him.

  “Aye, you bastard. How could you hurt Isabel? She’s your sister for God’s sake.”

  “What do you care? She’s a woman, the same as any other. Get yourself a new wife.” Nigel swung his sword in a large arc, but missed him by a foot.

  Douglas stood his ground, waiting with forbearance for Nigel to come at him again. The two Dunmore men started swinging, but only Gil and Lowrie intercepted them. Douglas held up his sword to ward off Nigel’s attack, the steel of their swords clashed, sounding loudly. Nigel began sweating, panting his exertion, but he relaxed. He didn’t exert one harsh breath at Nigel’s onslaught.

  Several men came from the holding and rode to the fracas. The battle grew heated as the remaining Kerr warriors took up arms. Several men fell, all of them Dunmores. Douglas waited for the right moment. Nigel tired, not that Douglas couldn’t have killed him several times all ready, he wanted to savor the feeling of killing him. He knew the second Nigel faltered, and he advanced without waning his sword. He thrust and returned his sword again and again, until he had Nigel positioned on the ground. Douglas jabbed his sword in his chest, leaving it standing upright. Nigel gasped as blood flowed from his mouth, then he stilled as death came to claim him for his servitude in hell.

  Gil called out. “The drawbridge is closing, Laird. Shall we proceed to the walls?”

  “Aye, let us go.” Douglas yanked his sword from Nigel’s chest. The vile man was dead, and could hurt his wife no longer. He sheathed his sword, swaggering toward the Dunmore keep.

  When he got to the gate, the guards stood silent. “Irving, come out here, I want to talk to you.” He motioned to a man. “Tell your laird I want to see him.”

  He waited several minutes until Irving appeared. He looked ill, and could barely stand. Mayhap he’d imbibed too much ale or … As Irving got closer, he could smell the foul odor coming from him.

  “Irving, give the command to let me enter.”

  “Nay, so you can strike me down, Douglas? Nay, never.”

  “Open the damned gate, or you’ll lose many men if I have to scale your walls.”

  Irving straightened and was about to give a command. Douglas shouted at him to open the gates again, but he swayed on his feet. As if in slow motion, Irving fell backward, landing on the ground with a stringent thud, making the dirt from the ground billow out from under him. Shouts rang out as the Dunmore Laird fell. Several soldiers ran to him and lifted his body.

  Douglas called to Tavish Dunmore.

  “Tavish, I give my word, no Dunmore men will come to harm if you let me enter.”

  Tavish agreed by giving the command to open the gates. Douglas told his men to wait in the courtyard, and then he called Gil to his side. “You’ll come inside with me, Gil.”

  “What’s wrong with the Dunmore?” Gil watched him being carried away.

  “Let us find out, shall we.” Douglas entered the empty hall. There wasn’t even a servant standing idly waiting to serve. No one, save for the three of them.

  Tavish followed them inside. He called for the serving wenches, and motioned for Douglas and Gil to be seated.

  “Tavish, this place looks like …” He couldn’t continue because the sight of the hall stifled his words. “What’s happened here?”

  “’Tis gladdened I am that ye came. He’s been this way for sometime, it’s her. She did this to our clan. Brought the blackness to us, she did. Och, I can’t get him to listen and send her away.”

  “Her? Rachel?”

  “Nay, the sorceress. She’s bewitched my laird, and since doing so, she’s ruined us. She came nigh onto two years ago, and since he’s acted strange. He’s let his duties fall, his home, and his clan.”

  Douglas’ frown intensified when he saw the deterioration of the keep. “I’ll see to it, Tavish.”

  “Aye, I’m relieved that someone will help us. We have no one to aid us now with Irving so indisposed.”

  “Bring this sorceress to me. I’ll find out what’s going on.” Then he reconsidered. “Nay, show me where she is.”

  Douglas and Gil were led to the oldest part of the keep, to a tower at least a hundred years old. Several stones lay crumbled on the floor as they walked along. A strange odor filled the air, like sulfur. Gil drew his sword from his scabbard. Douglas felt cold for some odd reason. He came upon a thick wooden door and opened it. Only shadowy light filtered through the narrow slits of the stone walls. The three of them, Gil, Tavish, and Douglas stalked into the room. Gil backed up when a bat left its perch on the high wooden beam overhead. Tavish lit a torch and moved it around the room.

  Douglas saw a figure lying on the bed and went to find out who it was. He pulled the cover aside to find Wills emaciated with his eyes opened, staring up at him.

  “Wills.” He shook him. “Wills,” he repeated. He thought for a moment that he might be dead, until Wills mumbled incoherent words. He wasn’t in his right mind that was evident by his glazed stare. Douglas told Gil to take him to an empty bedchamber. Gil hefted Wills over he shoulder and left. He couldn’t leave fast enough, as spooked as he seemed.

  Tavish continued searching the chamber. “Come, Moira, Laird Kerr wants to speak to ye.”

  “Go away. Where’s Irving? He’ll kill you for entering my chamber.”

  Douglas recognized the voice instantly. He stared in disbelief when Tavish pulled her to a standing position. Morna Farley stood defiantly, with her chin raised, sending him looks of disdain.

  Her gasp indicated she knew him. “You—you should be dead.”

  “Lady Morna? Moira? What are you doing on Dunmore land?” Realization struck when he asked the question. He knew exactly why she was there, and what she was up to. “Why would you go to such lengths?”

  “No one leaves me. Irving said he would kill you. I made sure he had enough …” Her words trailed off when Douglas forced her backward. She leaned against the wood of a large table that held her herbs and potions.

  “Had enough what? What did you do to them?”

  “Only what they wanted, my lord. What I could have done for you, if you hadn’t left me.” She raised her hands, looked to the ceiling, and began to chant in a strange language.

  Douglas gripped her arms, jerking them downward. The witch wouldn’t be casting a spell on him. “What have you done with my cousin’s daughter?”

  “I know not of any cousin’s daughter.” Her hands released, she tucked them behind her as she answered.

  “I don’t believe ye. Why did you have the McFie’s property slaughtered?”

  “Oh, aye, the McFies, that worked rather nicely, didn’t it, Douglas? I drew you out of your keep. What a shame I didn’t poison the arrow, an error in my judgment.”

  “You are a witch from hell, Morna. Did you kill Laird MacIver?”

  “How did you know about him?”

  “There were footsteps, one smaller than the others. You were there. Did you stab him?”

  “Of course I did. He accused me of trying to harm Wills.” She laughed loudly. “I cast my spell and waited for ye, but you came with too many men. I would have taken care of you then, but you left hastily. If Irving won’t kill you, then I will. You were supposed to marry me.”

  Her voice held such conviction that Douglas considered her mad. Morna pulled a large dagger from behind her back and ran at him.

  Tavish gutted her before she reached him. Morna screamed a harrowing sound, she looked down at herself, grabbing the sword, and yanked it out. The sword dropped to the floor with a loud clank—only a moment before she joined it. Douglas knelt down and brushed her hair from her face. How had he ever thought to marry her? He watched her lifeless body and got a sudden chill.

  “Thanks be, Tavish, she was demented. I can’t believe what I just saw.”

&
nbsp; “Aye, she was indeed of a black soul. I’ll have my men remove her. Come, let us get the hell out of here, this place give me the willies. A clootie resided here.”

  “A devil? She was indeed bedeviled. Don’t touch her body, don’t let anyone near her or inside here. I can’t imagine she would be so ireful at my leaving her, and that she would try to kill those related to me … It makes me feel …” He couldn’t continue. Douglas returned to the hall, and sat at the table. He drank a full tankard of ale before putting it down. Gil and Tavish joined him.

  “You know who she was Laird Kerr?” Tavish asked.

  “Aye, she called herself Morna then, it was years ago. I met her at a keep we stayed at. I thought to marry her at one time. My father asked me to, though I didn’t really feel anything for her and so I left.” Douglas wasn’t about to reveal anything more.

  “She must have been very angry to come all this way to get her revenge,” Gil said soberly.

  “I’m shocked by what I saw. I can’t believe she was so devious, wanting to kill me so badly because I wouldn’t marry her. I didn’t know she was a witch.” He looked searchingly at Tavish, as though he had imagined the whole ordeal.

  “How is Wills? Have you seen to him, Gil?”

  “He’ll be well once the effects of the herbs wear off. It may take a few weeks. A servant is sitting with him.”

  Douglas nodded. “Has anyone seen to Irving?”

  “We’ve taken him to his chamber; he’s in the same condition as Wills.”

  “Tavish, have someone board up the tower room after she is removed, let none enter there. It’s an evil place.”

  “The witch will be burned afore dusk.” Tavish left to take care of the chores.

  Douglas spent the rest of the day putting the keep to rights and walking with Tavish. They went over the protection of the walls. He scrawled a note to Isabel and had one of his men take it. He didn’t want her to worry and only said that he had matters to see to, but wouldn’t return for a few weeks. He didn’t mention Wills, or any details that had occurred. The tasks ahead of him were vast because Irving hadn’t seen to his duties in such a long time. His denizens were left in ruins, their homesteads depleted. Douglas met with them and listed their needs. He reassured them that Irving would see to them when he regained his health. The various outer buildings needed repairs, so he set several Dunmore men to the task.