by Monica Burns
"Pretty," he giggled with glee.
As the ugly little man scrambled to his feet, Ewan kicked at his attacker's leg in an effort to make the man fall. It didn't stop the repugnant creature from starting toward her.
"Run, Louisa." Even in pain Ewan's voice was a harsh command, but she knew there was nowhere to run. Her only choice was to fight.
"Want Pretty."
The knife he held in his hand was dark with blood, but she forced herself to block it out of her vision. Her gaze met Ewan's, and she saw the stark anger, fear, and helplessness on his face as he used his elbow in an effort to sit up. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ewan's metal prosthesis lying on the floor at his feet and she simply reacted.
Surprise crossed the man's hideous features as Louisa ran forward before he opened his arms and grinned. Closing her mind to everything except reaching the metal arm lying on the floor, she darted past Ewan's attacker. Fingers gaining a tight grip on the leather cup of the prosthesis, she straightened then whirled around and swung Ewan's mechanical arm at the man.
She hit her mark with a force that made Ewan's attacker scream in anger. No longer grinning, the man lunged forward forcing her to jump back. A wave of fear rolled over her as she swung at him again. This time, the metal fingers penetrated the large knot on the side of the man's head, forcing her to tug hard to pull the prosthesis free. The man went down on his knees with a cry of pain as he swiped at her with his knife.
Louisa darted out of the knife's path and off to his side. Raising the weapon up over her head she brought the metal arm down as hard as she could onto the man's head. Almost as if he'd not even felt the blow, he swung the knife in her direction again. To evade him, Louisa lost her footing and stumbled backward. The sudden crack of gunfire filled the air causing her to jerk in fear as she managed to remain upright.
As she watched, the man froze upright on his knees before he fell backward. His eyes were wide open as if in shocked surprise, while a small trickle of blood rolled out of the dark circle just above his nose. Frozen in place she waited for the creature to move, but he didn't.
The low grunt of pain behind her made Louisa spin around. Ewan was leaning against the side of the bed his nightshirt covered in blood and a pistol dangling from his hand. There was a deathly pallor to his skin, and the gun slid from his fingers to the floor as she sprang forward to keep him from sliding downward.
"Fall backward, Ewan," she gasped. "I cannot lift you up into bed."
With an almost imperceptible nod, Ewan's eye fluttered closed as he obeyed her instructions. The instant he plopped heavily backward onto the mattress, a moan of pain drifted past his lips. Dismay streaked through her as she saw only his upper back was on the bed. Afraid he would slide off the bed any second, she swung his legs up onto the bed with all her strength.
Half of his body still hung over on the edge of the bed, and she pushed hard at his hip to roll him onto his side so he was closer to the middle of the mattress. The strength of her effort to move him into a safer position made him flop face down on the bed. Another groan of anguish escaped him, and she choked back a sob. The shoulder of his good arm had at least one gash bleeding through material covering his back, which explained his cry of distress when he'd fallen backward onto the mattress.
Louisa swallowed her tears and scurried around to the opposite side of the bed. Carefully climbing onto the mattress, she ripped the back of Ewan's shirt open at the spot where the knife had sliced through the cloth. The cut didn't appear too deep, but she had to fight her usual response of fainting at the sight of blood. Most likely he'd been attacked while sleeping, and tried to use the prosthesis as a weapon just like she had. It would explain why it had been on the floor.
Fear made her tremble as she leaned over his body to take hold of the thin strip of blanket not covered by his battered body. Any further movement meant even more pain for him, but she had no choice. As gently as she could, she pulled on the blanket and used it as leverage to roll Ewan onto his back. This time he didn't make a sound, and her heart stopped in sheer terror.
Frantically, she scrambled closer to him to see if he was still breathing. Harsh breaths of air rang in her ears, and Louisa offered up a prayer of gratitude that he was still alive. With care she pulled at one of the jagged tears the knife had made to see the wound beneath it. She drew in a sharp hiss of air between her teeth at the bloody wound. Her stomach roiled at the sight, and Louisa closed her eyes as she fought off the lightheadedness that threatened to render her unconscious.
Steeling herself to continue, she opened her eyes and pulled Ewan's nightshirt a little further apart. Several of the cuts on his chest were deep, but none of them were near his heart as she'd first feared by the blood soaking his shirt and his ghostly pallor. As she carefully tore open the sleeve of his nightshirt, Louisa gasped in horrified dismay.
"Oh, dear God."
Louisa's whisper had barely passed her lips before she was forced to choke back the bile rising in her throat as she stared at the blood oozing from the cuts on his arm. They crisscrossed in several different places until they formed a single wound. Ewan had clearly used his arm to deflect most of the blows to his chest. Louisa pressed her fist into the mattress and bowed her head as she battled with her body's reaction to his injuries. A quiet groan rolled out of him as she struggled with her nausea.
"Get out, Louisa." The harsh command brushed angrily across her senses as she looked up at him.
"I am not going to leave you," she snapped. Her anger at his order helped relieve the sickening lurch in her stomach as she resumed examining his arm without feeling the urge to faint. "Stubborn Scot."
The moment she muttered the words under her breath, a strong hand caught her by the wrist and jerked at her arm hard. Caught off guard by his action, Louisa found herself falling to the side before she quickly recovered her balance and glared at him. His eye narrowed when she didn't move.
"I said, get out."
"Stop being an ass, Argaty," Louisa retorted as she tugged free of his grip to pull at another tear in his shirt. "I didn't save you just to watch you die in your bed."
"My injuries are…not life-threatening," he rasped and drew in a sharp hiss of air as she ripped his shirt open in an angry movement. The soft sound of pain emanating from him made her wince with guilt at having exacerbated his suffering. Not bothering to answer him, she gently moved his arm slightly.
"I dismissed you…and told you to leave today," he said with another grunt of pain.
"And you said you'd carry me out if I didn't, but you're in no condition to do that, are you?"
"Leave. Now."
Ewan's command was soft, but she heard the thundering anger in his voice. She lifted her gaze to meet his, and the blue-gray eye she stared into was hard, cold steel. Louisa's heart sank at the harsh determination on his face, and how outrage had thinned his mouth into a tight line of anger. Even as badly hurt as he was, he refused to have a change of heart where she was concerned. Had she been wrong after all? Was it possible he really didn't have feelings for her?
"Saints preserve us."
The cry of horror made Louisa jerk her head and look behind her to see Mrs. Selkirk standing in the doorway. The older woman's face was pale and drawn as she stood looking at the dead man on the floor before she focused her gaze on Ewan.
"The sight of blood doesn't agree with me, Mrs. Selkirk, and I don't know how to deal with his wounds."
Although her features were still pale, determination swept across the housekeeper's face as she nodded and hurried toward the bed. Dismay echoed in Mrs. Selkirk's soft gasp when she bent over Ewan. Muttering to herself, the housekeeper gently examined the cuts on his chest. At her probing, Ewan's eyes fluttered open, and he drew in a harsh breath.
"Bloody hell, woman, I'm not a pin cushion." The words were little more than a whisper, but they made Mrs. Selkirk smile.
"By the sound of that snarl, I think you'll live, my lord. Although I'm certain
ye will be in a great deal of pain for at least a week."
The relief in the housekeeper's voice made Louisa close her eyes for a brief moment in gratitude that her prayers for his safety had been answered. A small tremor rippled through her as she looked down at Ewan's injuries. No longer alone in her efforts to help him, Louisa's stomach churned viciously.
"Selkirk, Lady Westbrook is about to faint." The words were an icy wind blasting across her skin as the housekeeper pressed the back of her hand to Ewan's forehead.
"Lord love me, you can't have a fever that fast. Dinnae ye mean Mrs. Morehouse," the housekeeper said with a note of worry as she looked in Louisa's direction. With her heart aching in her breast, Louisa slid across the mattress and off the bed.
"No, he addressed me properly. My full name is Louisa Rockwood Morehouse, Viscountess Westwood."
Her quiet words made Mrs. Selkirk stare at her in astonishment as Louisa faced the woman. The surprise on Mrs. Selkirk's weathered features slowly changed to one of disappointment and disapproval. Louisa flinched as she met the woman's gaze before she turned and walked toward the open doorway. A harsh, indistinguishable whisper echoed from the bed, but Louisa didn't halt her progress.
"Lady Westbrook." At the housekeeper's call, Louisa looked over her shoulder. There was a hesitant expression on the woman's face, as she glanced down at Ewan then looked back at Louisa. "His lordship thanks you for saving his life and your willingness to take Ross with you when you leave today. Finn and McCallum will see that your belongings are brought down for your departure.
Louisa's heart shattered in her breast as she stared at the woman's suddenly sympathetic features. Nothing had changed between them. Not even the life and death situation they'd face together only moments ago had softened his heart or determination to rid himself of her. Unable to speak, she simply jerked her head in a nod. Tears threatening to reduce her to heart-rending sobs, Louisa turned away and hurried toward the door.
She was only a few feet from the room's threshold when Wallis MacCullaich ran into the room with McCallum close behind. The family retainer came to an abrupt halt in the doorway, effectively blocking Louisa's only exit. Wallis uttered a small cry of fear, and barely glanced at the dead man on the floor as she ran past Louisa to her nephew's bed. A look of shocked horror on his craggy features, the Scotsman stared at Mrs. Selkirk tending to Ewan.
"Sweet mither o' laird. Will he live?" the Scotsman ground out as his gaze focused on the bed."
"Aye, but he will be less than pleasant for a few days." The housekeeper's words made McCallum's expression a little less grim as he nodded. He cleared his throat.
"Does he know?" At the Scotsman's question, Wallis jerked her head up as Mrs. Selkirk glanced over her shoulder at McCallum and shook her head.
"I dinnae think so," the housekeeper replied as she looked across the bed at Ewan's aunt. Another muffled whisper floated through the air, and Wallis reached out to stroke Ewan's forehead.
"She's dead, Ewan. Mr. Brown tried to stop him, but Gilbert killed her, just as he tried to kill you." Wallis MacCullaich's voice was filled with sorrow. Another whisper floated from the bed, and Wallis shook her head. "Brown will live, although I think he might be worse off than you are.
Shock rippled through Louisa as she stared at Wallis MacCullaich bent over the bed. The dowager had been murdered. Louisa's gaze flitted toward the dead man lying on the floor near the foot of Ewan's bed. The newfound knowledge barely registered in her mind as the faces of the boys filled her head. Another wave of nausea swirled in her stomach, and she swayed on her feet.
"The boys," she whispered to herself. McCallum quickly stepped forward to steady her, and the Scotsman squeezed her arm in a reassuring manner.
"The laddies are quite safe, lass," he said gruffly. "I saw to them myself and left Finn to watch over them."
Despite the Scotsman's attempt to calm her fears she shook her head hard. The memory of the horrible screams echoing through the halls of the dowager's wing sent a tremor through her. The boys had to have heard the cries. She could only imagine how terrified they must still be. Caleb had said they would be safe, but she needed to hold them and reassure them the nightmare was over.
Louisa tugged free of the man's grip with a shake of her head. Quickly, she pushed past him and then Asadi who was stumbling to his feet in the hall. Running as fast as she could, she entered the dowager's wing a minute later. A stark silence had fallen on the hallway that was almost as terrifying as the screams she'd heard earlier.
The moment she entered the nursery, Wills cried out for her and raced across the room. Louisa sank to the floor with her arms outstretched, and the little boy threw himself into her embrace, his small arms wrapping tightly around her neck.
The older boys were only a few steps behind her youngest son, and she opened her arms wider to pull all three of them to her as close as she could. While Wills sobbed against her throat, Charlie and Ross simply hugged her back. Over the tops of their heads, Louisa met Finn's worried gaze.
"Thank you for staying with the boys, Finn. The danger has passed, and I'm sure McCallum will need you in Lord Argaty's rooms." Louisa's quiet words made the young man bob his head before he left her alone with the children.
Charlie was the first to pull away from her embrace and then Ross. A sudden look of horror crossed his face as he stared at her. Alarmed by his expression, Louisa stretched out her hand to him.
"What is it Charles?"
"You're bleeding, Mama," her son choked out in fear as he pointed toward her nightgown.
"What?"
Louisa stared at her son in confusion for a second then looked down at the front of her nightwear. It was smeared with Ewan's blood. Her stomach began to churn, and she closed her eyes against the sight. If she'd reached Ewan's room a few moments later he would be dead.
She'd been helpless to save Devin and Caleb, but she'd saved the life of another man she loved. The queasy sensation in her stomach intensified as she remembered the stab wounds on Ewan's chest and arm. Charlie's hand gripped her shoulder hard as she sank back down to sit on her heels.
"Wills, go find Finn. Ross, help me lay her down."
The strong, firm commands her oldest son issued made her eyes flutter open. The child sounded just like Sebastian when he was putting chaos into order. The thought tugged a small smile to her lips before she realized Wills was almost at the door. Alarm made her shake her head fiercely as she brushed off Charlie's hand. Once he'd secured help, Wills's intense curiosity might easily lead him to the dowager countess's room. He would only see death, and if Ewan's attack was similar to what had cost the dowager her life, she wasn't about to let her son see such a horrifying sight.
"No. Wills you are not to leave this room until I give you permission to do so, is that clear?"
Louisa directed a stern look over her shoulder at her son. Puzzlement and concern swept across his small face, and she was certain a look of disappointment flickered in his eyes. She'd been right to think her youngest wouldn't hesitate to investigate what was happening in the keep once he'd found help. She turned her head to see the startled looks on the older boys' faces.
"That goes for the two of you, as well." Louisa nodded toward the blood on her nightgown. "This isn't my blood. Lord Argaty had an…accident, and I helped him."
Relief then confusion and concern crossed Charlie's face. His bewilderment made Louisa wince as guilt swept through her. She'd brought the boys to the keep. She was supposed to protect her children, not put them in harm's way. The memory of Wallis MacCullaich calling Ewan's attacker by name made Louisa's heart skip a beat. The woman had known the murderer. When telling Ewan what had happened, she'd spoken as if Ewan also knew who Gilbert was. Why hadn't Ewan warned her? In the back of her head, a voice asked why she'd not told Ewan about the child she'd seen in her visions? She flinched as she met Charlie's gaze.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered as regret made tears form in her eyes. "I should have come to
you before helping Lord Argaty."
"Don't be, Mama. We weren't afraid," her son said nonchalantly as he tipped his head slightly to one side then grimaced. "Well, maybe just a little. When we heard the woman screaming we were scared. But Uncle Caleb told me it was just one of the maids who was upset that Lady Argaty was dead. He told me to tell Wills and Ross not to be afraid because he and Papa would keep us safe."
It was the first time Charlie had openly admitted he possessed the an dara sealladh. Even though she'd suspected he had the family gift, she wasn't sure how to react to the news. Jamie and Alma were the only two children in the family who'd admitted to being able to see and talk to the dead. Constance had always found her son's ability disconcerting, but until now, Louisa had never understood her sister's concern. Now she did. A worried frown creased Charlie's forehead in a manner that reminded her of Devin as he met her gaze. Louisa stretched out her hand to him and offered him a small smile.
"It's all right, dearest. I knew you'd tell me in your own time if you'd been given the gift of the an dara sealladh," she said softly.
"Is my father…is he badly hurt, Mrs. Morehouse?" The worry in Ross's voice made her swallow hard as she remembered the cuts on Ewan's chest and arm. The last thing she wanted to do was frighten the child.
"Mrs. Selkirk says he will be in pain for a few days, but he will be fine."
"Uncle Caleb told Charlie you saved Lord Argaty." Wills voice sounded curious as he lifted his gaze to meet hers. "Did you, Mama?"
"That's enough questions for now," she said quietly as she kissed the child's forehead. "I sent word yesterday evening to Uncle Sebastian. He should be here soon to take us to Callendar Abbey."
The words made her heart ache as if someone had ripped it from her chest. The thought of leaving Ewan and Argaty Keep made tears form in her throat, but she swallowed them. At her announcement, Ross turned and walked away to stare out the window. His bearing reminded her of the boy she'd met such a short time ago. Even though Ewan's heart hadn't softened where her deception was concerned, at least he'd given her permission to take Ross with her.