The Secret Clan: The Complete Series

by Amanda Scott

  In minutes, the two galleys had closed on the birlinn. Thomas MacMorran stood, his sword in its sheath, his arms raised high, commanding his men to hold.

  “I be Thomas MacMorran o’ Dunakin,” he shouted, fighting to keep his balance as his oarsmen’s blades dug hard into the water and slowed the birlinn. “We travel in peace,” he cried to the lead boat. “What do ye want wi’ us?”

  In reply, the newcomers swept up in fine style, scarcely slackening speed until they were right in front of them. Then, pulling up dramatically with back-watering sweeps of their oars, they brought the great sails crashing down at the exact moment that the lead craft’s helmsman, bearing on his tiller, swung his ship across the birlinn’s bow.

  Thomas shouted for his oarsmen to yaw to starboard, but despite their quick response, the two boats met in a crunching thud that jarred every tooth and bone in Molly’s body and jolted her from her seat. If there was damage, it was solely to the smaller boat, for the sides of the galley rose half again as high as the Mackenzie birlinn. From her perspective, she could barely see any oarsmen in the larger boat.

  “At them, lads,” a voice above her head commanded gruffly.

  To her horror, men-at-arms leaped from the galley into the Mackenzie boat, swords at the ready. Her oarsmen, taken by surprise, were no match for the assault, and it was over in moments, wholesale slaughter.

  Still standing, sword high, Thomas stepped between the women and the invaders, only to be driven back by men stepping right onto the bodies of dead and dying oarsmen. He leaped onto an oarsman’s bench, his sword slashing, but his attacker’s sword dove under it, and Thomas tumbled backward into the water.

  With a scream of terror, Doreen leaped up to scramble to his aid, but Molly grabbed her skirt and hauled her back onto their seat. Both women leaned over the side to watch for him to surface, but he did not.

  “Thomas! Oh, Thomas,” Doreen screamed.

  Molly pulled the sobbing maidservant into her arms. Tears streamed down her own cheeks, and nausea roiled her stomach as she gazed upon the carnage.

  “I bid you good day, Mistress Gordon. I had hoped that we’d meet again.”

  Senses whirling, she looked up into the eyes of Donald the Grim.

  “But you died,” she exclaimed. “I saw you die!”

  “Your eyes deceived you,” he said mockingly. “I was grievously wounded, but God in His mercy saw fit to stop the bleeding, and I am, as you see, wholly recovered. We are going to sink your boat, lass,” he added matter-of-factly, “so perhaps you should climb into mine. We have a long journey yet before us.”

  Chapter 20

  “Beg pardon, laird, but ye’ve a visitor asking to see ye.”

  Looking up from the list he had been making of needed supplies, Fin said impatiently, “Who is it?”

  “She says her name be Lady Percy, sir.”

  Fin glanced at Patrick, beside him at the high table in the hall, and raised his eyebrows. “Show her ladyship in.”

  The gilly hurried away to do his bidding, whereupon Patrick said, “At least now we’ll learn who she is.” Noise at the entrance drew his attention, and he whistled low and appreciatively.

  Fin nearly did so, as well.

  Lady Percy was a beautiful, elegant woman, and that despite looking as if she had traveled some distance to see him. Recalling that Jamie had warned him to keep her close at Eilean Donan, he eyed her searchingly. She looked harmless enough, he thought, but was that not ever the way with the fair sex?

  “Good day, Lady Percy,” he said politely. “Welcome to Eilean Donan. I am Kintail, and this is Sir Patrick MacRae, my constable here.”

  “My lord.” She made a graceful curtsy, allowing her dark blue surcoat to fall open and reveal an amazing expanse of plump creamy bosom barely contained in a low-cut, lace-edged, yellow silk bodice. Fin heard Patrick’s appreciative murmur but controlled his own expression without difficulty.

  He said evenly, “Although Kintail is a barony, madam, I have not yet been elevated to the peerage. In Scotland, unlike England, I must take my seat in Parliament before anyone need address me as ‘my lord.’ How may I serve you?”

  She straightened, and again her beauty struck him hard.

  Her black-fringed gray eyes were nearly as beautiful as Molly’s. Her dress was fashionable, expensive, and became her well. A lacy, pearl-embroidered caul confined her golden blond hair without hiding its splendor, and the leather shoes peeping from under the edge of her skirt boasted gold rosettes. Slender and sensually curvaceous, she carried herself in a way showing her awareness of the effect her appearance had on men. Her skirt was wide and her bodice tight, but as she moved, one could see that her underpinnings were simple, lacking the stiffness of boning and tight corsets, and revealing the lines of her body exquisitely.

  Despite this blatantly sensuous behavior, her demeanor remained respectful and serious as she replied, “I have come to see my daughter, sir.”

  Fin raised his eyebrows, surprised. “Your daughter, madam? Enlighten me, if you please. Where do you expect to find her?”

  “Why, here, sir. I am told that she recently became your wife.”

  He stared at her, stunned, but he could not doubt the truth of her words. No wonder her eyes reminded him of Molly’s. They were identical.

  She said softly, “You did not know? Percy was my second husband. My first was Lord Gordon of Dunsithe. Please, sir, where is Molly? She is the only daughter left to me, and as you must know, I’ve not seen her for years.”

  “Your brother is the Earl of Angus,” Fin said, understanding why Jamie wanted him to keep an eye on her. For reasons understandable to anyone who knew his history, the King suspected the motives of anyone connected to Angus.

  The smile that touched her lips was sad. She said, “I pray you will not be so cruel as to prevent me from seeing Molly, sir. I… I have come a long way.”

  “Indeed, madam, so long a way that although you were within a few miles of Eilean Donan days ago, you traveled on without stopping to see your daughter. Perhaps you would like to explain that omission to me.”

  Her cheeks reddened, but her steady gaze did not waver. She said, “Brigands attacked my party. Surely, if you know I was in the vicinity, you learned that, too.”

  “Aye, for we found the men they murdered. Who attacked you?”

  Her hesitation was so brief that had he not been watching carefully he might have missed it. Recovering, she gave him that direct, guileless look again and said, “I did not know them, sir. They were typical Highland barbarians, I believe, but thankfully, they did me no harm and let me go again this morning. Thus, I have come to you now. I want to see my daughter, and also bring you a message from James, the King.”

  Reaching inside her surcoat, she slid a leather pouch she wore on her narrow belt from side to front and opened it, extracting a small, scrolled missive that bore a miniature of James’s privy seal.

  When she handed it to Fin, he paused to examine the seal.

  “This appears to have suffered some damage,” he said, giving her a look as direct as any she had given him.

  She did not flinch, and this time, she did not blush. “It has come a distance, sire, and as you see, I have kept it on my person. If the wax grew warm…” She shrugged as if to say that he could fill in the rest for himself.

  Wondering who else had read it, Fin broke the seal and scanned the message quickly. It was much shorter than the one sent with the man who had been killed, merely introducing Lady Percy to Kintail’s notice, begging him to render her such aid as she requested, and adding that his grace hoped the Mackenzies, who had remained consistently loyal to the Crown, would continue to serve his royal interests against Donald the Grim. It was just as well, Fin thought, that he had already sent a pair of running gillies to Stirling with word of Sleat’s death. Jamie would be delighted to receive the news.

  Quietly, his guest said, “Pray, sir, may I see Molly?”

  “You come too late for tha
t, I’m afraid,” he said, setting the letter aside with other documents on the table. “She departed this morning for Stirling.”

  Her expression froze. Exerting visible control over herself, she said, “She is riding, of course. If I leave at once, I can catch up with her party before day’s end.”

  “She is not riding,” Fin said. “I sent her by sea.”

  “No!” She clutched a hand to her bosom, and the color faded from her cheeks. “Oh, pray, sir, tell me that you did no such thing.”

  Feeling cold, Fin stood up and stepped around the table toward her.

  Lady Percy took a hasty step backward, her face as white now as alabaster.

  “What the devil is this?” he demanded. “Why should I not send her by sea?”

  “Because… Oh, mercy!” She took a deep breath, let it out, and said, “Surely you sent her with escorts, sir—a fleet of swift, well-armed galleys.”

  “It was one boat, a birlinn,” he snapped. “Now, tell me what is amiss, or by heaven, I will—”

  Without another word, Lady Percy crumpled to the floor.

  “You’ve frightened her to death,” Patrick said, moving swiftly to her side and dropping to one knee to shake her. “Madam, my lady, wake up!” Looking up at Fin, he said, “I’ll fetch Mauri. She’ll know what to do.”

  Fin nodded and then took Patrick’s place when that gentleman hastened from the chamber. As he knelt beside Lady Percy, he caught a wisp of motion from the corner of his eye.

  Quickly turning his head and seeing only swirling dust motes in a beam of evening sunlight, he turned back to his fallen guest. Shaking her again, harder than Patrick had, he had the satisfaction of hearing her groan.

  “Collect yourself, madam,” he ordered harshly. “I must know what has upset you. I know that your so-called attacker the other day was Donald the Grim, but I suspect you were either in collusion with him or that you somehow managed to escape his men. What I do not know is how cozy you were with him before his death, I think you had better tell me everything, and at once.”

  Moaning again, she sat up and allowed him to help her to her feet. “I… I apologize for allowing myself to be overcome, sir,” she said faintly. “I…” Words failed her, and tears welled in her eyes.

  “You are overset,” he said. Drawing her toward the nearest bench, he waited only until she sat down, before he said firmly, “You must tell me what you know, madam. Is Molly in danger?”

  “Aye,” she said flatly. “Donald must have her.”

  “Donald? Do you mean Sleat’s whelp, Donald Gorm?” He shook his head. “He cannot have taken charge of his father’s men. He is too young. By heaven, madam, if you are making game of me, I will make you wish—”

  “Donald the Grim is not dead, as you think, but dangerously alive, sir,” she said steadily. “He told me he nearly died. They thought he severed the major blood vessel in his leg when he yanked out the arrow that struck him, but the bleeding stopped, and he is quite well now, I promise you.”

  “Then may the devil take him!” Fin exclaimed. “He has captured Molly?”

  “All I can tell you for certain is that he intended to take me south to Dunbarton, for he hoped—” Breaking off, she licked her lips, then added hastily, “That plan is of no consequence now except, until early this morning, he… he threatened to take me with him. Then someone brought him word of a birlinn in the Sound of Sleat. He said it was ‘them, trying to sneak by.’ ”

  “Them?”

  “Aye, sir, ‘them.’ I paid little heed to his discussion, because I believed the information he received did not concern me. I learned long ago that powerful men react badly if one reveals too much interest in their affairs, and I was careful not to anger Donald. His temper is… is perilously volatile.”

  “That’s true enough,” Fin agreed grimly, wondering if she knew that men had said as much of his own temper. “What then?”

  “Donald and his men set out at once, and although he did take me with him, he put me and my woman ashore at Kylerhea, where he arranged for horses and a few men to escort us. I had told him from the outset that I came to the Highlands in search of my daughter. He knew that I wanted to visit her before I continued to Stirling, and he said he had no objection. Before, whenever I pressed him to let me do so, he mocked me.”

  Fin suspected that there was more to her tale than she was admitting, but she had told him enough to get on with.

  “If Sleat captured Molly, will he not take her back to Dunsgaith?”

  “I do not believe so,” she said. Her color had returned, but her voice retained a note of urgency as she said, “He was prepared for a sea journey, sir. He had two large galleys with those very long oars that take two men to manage each one. Such galleys are very fast.”

  “Faster, certainly, than the birlinn I sent Molly in,” Fin muttered as much to himself as to his guest.

  Lady Percy said quietly, “You should know, too, that Donald spent much of the time I was with him questioning me about Dunsithe and the Maid’s portion.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “What could I tell him? I know no more about it than anyone else. Think you, sir, that had it been otherwise my brother would have allowed me to keep such a secret to myself? You know naught of Angus if you believe that. He may keep secrets of his own,” she added bitterly, “but he does not allow his sisters to do so, particularly sisters born on the wrong side of the blanket. He thinks we were born merely to serve him and his political interests.”

  Fin believed her. He had heard nothing about Angus that would lead him to suspect the man of being soft toward the women in his life. If she had known the whereabouts of Molly’s fortune, she would have admitted as much to Angus the first time he questioned her. “You think he will take Molly to Dunsithe,” he said.

  “Aye,” she said. “I think he means to see if she can find the treasure for him.” She nibbled her lower lip as if she might say more, but Patrick and Mauri entered just then with Lady Percy’s attendant.

  Fin turned his attention to Patrick, saying, “Have the lads provision the galleys. Sleat has captured Molly and is taking her to Dunsithe in hopes of laying hands on her fortune. I mean to leave at once.”

  “The devil fly away with Sleat!” Patrick exclaimed angrily.

  “I’ll take both galleys,” Fin said, “and I’ll want the strongest oarsmen you can find. Sleat will want to avoid the Sounds of Mull and Jura, knowing Jamie’s friends will be watching for him, so if I take that route, I can make up time. Still, I’ve none to waste. The journey will take three days, at least.”

  Quietly but firmly, Lady Percy said, “I am going with you.”

  Fin ignored her, fixing his attention on Patrick and what he wanted done. “Take Malcolm,” he said. “He can help organize the men. I want you to think also of who we know in the Borders who may prove friendly to me.”

  “You must take me with you,” Lady Percy insisted.

  “Madam, you and your woman are welcome to stay here until I return. I will bring your daughter back to you as swiftly as I can, but you are not going with me. Believe me, you would only be in the way. Now, please—”

  “One hesitates to contradict a man of your size and temperament, sir, but I can do more to help you acquire Border friends than Sir Patrick can. I am still a Douglas, sir, and in these circumstances, I believe that the Border Gordons will also aid me. I have friends in both camps, you see, and you will save a great deal of time if you make landfall short of Solway and ride the rest of the way. Have you access to horses? Indeed, sir, have you ever sailed those waters before? I have, often.”

  Fin was silent, but he looked at Patrick.

  That incorrigible young man smiled ruefully. “She has you there, laird. We’ve no one here who kens that part of Scotland. Nor can I think of anyone to whom we might turn for aid without first applying to James for references. If we consider men we knew at St. Andrews, we may think of someone, though.”

  “We’ve no t
ime for that,” Fin said. “And I know of no one.”

  “If that is not reason enough to take me along, I’ll offer another,” Lady Percy said. “The plain fact is that if I show up at Dunsithe, Donald is bound to let me in.”

  Fin’s eyes narrowed. Harshly, he said, “Just what is your relationship with Sleat, madam?”

  With a wry little smile, she said, “Not what you are thinking, but you may find the truth much worse. Just as I carried a message to you from Jamie, I carried another to Donald. It was not from Jamie, however.”

  “From Angus?”

  “Aye, one was from him,” she said, watching him warily now. “I also carried one from Henry of England, and—”

  “So Jamie was right,” Patrick breathed.

  Paling, she looked at him, then back at Fin. “Jamie knows?”

  “He suspects,” Fin told her. “He also suspects that Henry is financing Sleat’s rising. What about that, madam? And do not think to cozen me into taking you to Dunsithe,” he added, seeing a calculating look leap to her eyes. “You will remain here, but first you will tell me all you know about Sleat’s dealings with England.”

  “You will need me at Dunsithe!”

  “We cannot even be certain he is making for the Borders,” Fin said.

  Patrick, looking past him toward the entrance, said, “Perhaps we can.”

  Turning, Fin saw Tam Matheson being helped through the doorway. The lad was wheezing heavily, nearly winded.

  “Tam!”

  “Aye, laird,” he gasped. “Some villain be flying that devil Sleat’s banner. He’s taken the mistress, sailing south!”

  “Sleat’s alive,” Fin told him. “Whereabouts did he overtake you?”

  “Loch Nevis, they call it. I’ve run all the way.”

  “The others?”

  “All dead,” Tam said with a groan. “Thomas sent me into the water afore they caught us. Be ye sure it’s Sleat himself, laird?”

  “I’m sure.” Fin turned to Lady Percy and said grimly, “Very well, madam, you may come with me, but do not think you have won much. We’re going to have a long talk about Henry and your part in this. Moreover, you’ll go without your woman, and at the first complaint, I’m likely to throw you overboard.”