by Alisa Adams
The two men at arms tied up Kendrick’s hands and then James wound the rope securely around his wrist. He spurred his horse into a leisurely trot, and Kendrick was forced to run behind them. Munro watched with grim satisfaction and then began the solitary ride back to the inn. He noticed that all the shutters had been closed out of respect and his heart warmed to the two kind people who owned the inn. He would pay them generously when he left.
29
The Capture of Kendrick
By the time they reached Ingram Castle two hours later, Kendrick was a mess. His monk’s robe was torn and dirty and his feet were bleeding since he had lost his sandals a mile into the journey. The path was covered in sharp stones too, so he wailed and grunted in pain all the way. Added to that was the pain of his wrists which were chafed and bleeding from the rope which was binding them. Munro’s guards, with much swearing and complaining, had been obliged to slow the horses down to a walk so that their prisoner could keep up. They had no sympathy for him since they had had great love and regard for their lady.
Eventually, they arrived at the castle with their shabby and filthy prisoner. The guard let go of the rope, dismounted, and then Kendrick collapsed on the flagstones of the courtyard, moaning in agony. He tried to curl into a ball as the castle guards came to take him to the dungeons, but he was hauled to his feet anyway, having given up the will to resist. The guards swiftly got a message to Gavin who was out visiting a tenant farmer. The moment he heard word of his friend, Laird Douglas, needing his help, Gavin mounted his horse and galloped back to the castle as fast as the beast would carry him.
James, the guard who had hauled Kendrick behind him, told him the rest of the bad news. “M’laird,” he began, obviously in some distress. “My master, Laird Munro Douglas, is stayin’ at the inn in Dallick. Milady wis very ill an’ a priest, Faither Bernard, came in wi’ medicine.” He paused to catch his breath and went on. “Ye must understaun’, m’laird, that they hae been up and doon a’ the sacred places in Scotland lookin’ fer a cure an’ hae found naethin’, so when they saw this man, they were so desperate they took his physick. Milady’s throat an’ chest were burnin’. She was in that much pain, then—” He took a deep breath to steady himself. “Then she choked tae death. There wis blood comin’ oot her mooth an’ nose. It wis terrible tae see.”
“Did you catch this priest?” Gavin asked, his voice grim and angry.
James nodded. “Indeed, we did, m’laird.”
“And he is a real priest?” he went on, becoming suspicious.
“Naw, m’laird.” The man shook his head emphatically. “He is the very devil. His name is Ken—”
“Kendrick Muir?” Gavin asked before the guard had finished speaking.
“Aye, m’laird, how did ye knaw?”
“We have been acquaintances for a long time,” Gavin replied. His brows were so low that they almost covered his eyes. James had seen men angry before, but never like this.
“Where is he now?” Gavin asked.
“In the dungeon, m’laird.” James replied.
“Thank you, James.” Gavin thought for a moment and then called for one of his own men. “Robert put him in the lowest level. Strip him naked and throw a bucket of water over him to clean him. Give him some bread to eat, a cup of water, and a blanket then leave him.”
Robert watched his Laird as he walked away. Laird Ingram was usually such a kind man and he reasoned that Kendrick Muir must have done something heinous to have been banished to the lower levels of the dungeons. There was no light there and there would be one thin blanket for the prisoner and no mattress. He would survive on the most meager of rations until the Laird saw fit to deal with him.
Gavin Ingram was boiling with rage. His first instinct had been to go straight to Kendrick and beat him senseless, but he decided instead to let him stew in the cells for a while. It was the most unpleasant suffering he could think of inflicting on Kendrick without actually touching the loathsome creature. He set off for the inn, unaware that a much more pleasant surprise awaited him.
When Munro Douglas got back to the inn, he noticed a handsome gray horse tethered outside, and when he went inside, he recognized the owner. It was none other than Allana Dundas and she looked shocked to the core.
“M’laird! I am so sorry to hear your news!” She was almost weeping. “I was just passing by when I decided to seek shelter for the night and the kind lady at the inn informed me of what took place here.”
“Mistress Dundas.” He bowed. “Thank you.” He could trust himself to say no more.
Allana, looking hard at him, saw that he was struggling to keep his composure. “May I go to pay my respects, m’laird?”
Munro nodded and sat down heavily on a chair. Now that he had done all that he had to do, all that was left was empty silence. Nothing but his children mattered anymore and he had to get back to them as soon as possible. His heart was full of anger and hatred and he believed that he would never know another moment’s joy as long as he lived.
In repose, Catherine Douglas looked breathtakingly lovely. Her delicate face was at peace in a way that no living face could be for the restlessness of its spirit had gone elsewhere. Her mouth was curved up at the corners as though she were just about to smile and Allana smiled too. Catherine’s thin white hands were crossed over her chest and her beautiful dark hair was spread out on the pillow in shining waves. Allana was sure she must be in a much better place waiting for Munro.
Allana said her prayers for Catherine’s soul and then went downstairs where she found that Munro had finished three goblets of whiskey and was looking very much the worse for wear.
“Have you another room?” she asked. “I will pay for it. He needs to sleep, poor soul.” She looked down at him with pity in her eyes and sighed.
The landlord and landlady, William Kane and his wife Mary, would not allow Allana to help them as they half-carried, half-dragged Munro’s semi-conscious body upstairs. By the comfortable plainness of the room, Allana guessed it was their own bedroom and she felt an upwelling of gratitude to these humble people who were willing to go to so much trouble for a man they barely knew.
Allana decided to sit outside the bedroom door for a while and wait for Gavin’s men to come. Likely he would only be able to send a farm cart because it was a situation he had not anticipated. She had not even contemplated the possibility that he himself would come with his men.
She had left the door ajar but heard no disturbances from inside except the Laird’s heavy breathing, so she relaxed a little. The chair on which she was sitting was not very comfortable, but she dozed off anyway, tired from riding all day.
It was in this posture that Gavin Ingram found her when he came to pay his respects to Lady Douglas. He was astonished, having had no knowledge of her presence. A mixture of emotions assailed him, delight and anxiety being the chief amongst them, but he was also curious about her reason for being here. He kneeled down to look at her, Her cheek was pillowed on her hands which were resting on the arm of the chair. Her knees were drawn up so that she was occupying the entire seat and she looked restful, cozy, and absolutely adorable. She was dreaming. He could see by the movement of her eyes underneath her long, feathery eyelashes and the occasional twitching of her lips as she smiled at the pictures in her mind.
Happy dreams, he thought enviously. He had none of those lately. He contemplated waking her up but decided against it, electing to go in and see the still-beautiful form of Catherine. He could not believe, as he looked at the pale, peaceful face, that soon she would be lying in a cold grave in the ground. It saddened him beyond measure to think of her poor children, still unknowing, waiting for a mother who would never come back.
He said his prayers and made a sign of the cross on her forehead and then turned to leave the room. Then his heart skipped a beat as he saw Allana looking at him across the room, eyes wide with surprise. “Gavin, how good to see you.” Her voice was pitched very low as if she was trying not to aw
aken Catherine. She swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to ignore the hammering in her heart as she gazed at the man she had grown so fond of.
“Allana,” he murmured, managing a faint smile. “Likewise. I wish it was under better circumstances. Lady Catherine was very beautiful and very good.”
“I did not know her well, but I know she did a lot for the poor,” she replied. Allana moved up to stand beside the bed again to look down at Catherine’s lovely face. They were standing very close, the sleeves of their jackets touching one another. Gavin could feel the warmth of her body as she could feel his and he ached to take her in his arms, but he had bad news for her first.
“Allana, I have something to tell you that perhaps you might not want to hear.”
Allana looked up at him in alarm then swallowed, took a deep breath, and squared her shoulders. Gavin urged her onto a chair.
“The man who killed Catherine was pretending to be a priest.” He reached out for Allana’s hand subconsciously and squeezed it. “He called himself Father Bernard McAllister, but in fact, his name was Kendrick Muir.” Allana’s eyes flew wide open. She felt as though someone had punched her in the stomach as she gasped in shock.
“Oh, God,” she said in a hoarse, raw whisper. “How many more lives is he going to ruin? Or end?”
30
About Catherine and Kendrick
They both stood for a moment looking down at the silent body and then Allana said, “I am going to kill him.” The voice was menacing, deadly, and it did not belong to Allana. It sounded as if some evil spirit had taken over her body. “He deserves to die... Horribly.”
Gavin kneeled down in front of her and shook his head. “This is not you speaking, Allana, these thoughts are not worthy of you.” He let go of her hand, but he looked deep into her eyes before he spoke again. “I have thought them too. But leave justice to God. Despite all the bad that Muir has done, I know that you could not ever bear to hurt him or anyone else for that matter. It is not in your nature.”
Allana shook her head as if to clear away her troublesome thoughts. “You are right, Gavin,” she said, sighing. “But I am not sure how much more I can take of this man.”
“I have a feeling that God and the gallows will deal with him before we do, Allana.” His voice was melancholy and he seemed depressed.
Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around him. Gavin was so surprised that he froze for a split second and then he returned her embrace, comforted by the soft warmth of her woman’s body against his own. It was heavenly, but she let him go very quickly.
“I am sorry,” she said, blushing, “but I think we all need the embrace of a friend sometimes.”
“Yes, we do.” He smiled, picked up her hand, and kissed it. “You are a great comfort, Allana.”
“Let us comfort each other then,” she suggested.
For a tantalizing moment, she thought that he was going to kiss her and for a moment, he thought the same, but then he thought better of it and turned around to hold the door open for her instead. After all, this was hardly the time or place for romance. Munro was still sleeping, so they went down the bare wooden steps on tiptoe.
“I must get back,” he said, “the wagon is coming to get Catherine, but will you come with me now?”
For a moment, she was caught between ‘yes’ and ‘no,’ but the appeal in his hazel eyes was much stronger than any ‘no’ could be, so she nodded, smiling. Just as they were leaving, a covered wagon arrived. It was the Laird’s best carriage, only used for weddings, funerals and other special occasions. Munro had been awakened and his eyes were streaming with tears as he saw the body of his wife being gently laid inside.
Gavin saw to the payment of the Kanes and the little cortège set off to Ingram Castle. Allana rode behind Gavin watching the silver strands of his hair shimmering in the sun. It was strange how some men went bald but some went gray in a very attractive way like Gavin. The tail of his hair reached halfway down his back and she wondered what it would feel like to run her hands over or through it.
Suddenly, she realized that she was longing for him not with her teenage longing for Nevin or the powerful explosive kind she had felt for Kendrick, but with a quiet, slow flame, the kind that she felt would never go out. Here was a man with experience, a man who had knowledge of life that she had not yet acquired. He was clever and considerate and somehow, she knew within herself that he would be gentle in the bedroom too or as rough and passionate as a warrior. Her cheeks flushed at the thought.
Presently, they came in sight of the castle, and the chaplain, Father Philip, came down to pray over Catherine’s body before she was taken away to be embalmed and made ready for the journey to Glencoe. Gavin went out rather hastily, so she went to the room she had been assigned and looked out of the window as she nursed a glass of wine. She had a strange feeling inside as if there was a great bubble waiting to burst.
The one thing that troubled her was that she could not tell by looking at Gavin what was going on in his heart. He was always pleasant and kind, but she could never tell what he was thinking. She sighed, hoping that he was thinking of her.
He was. He was turning over and over in his mind the possibility of courting Allana, but since Kendrick had told him about Marion’s infidelity, he was not sure if he could ever trust another woman. Granted, Kendrick was a liar, a lecher, and a fraudster, but how could he possibly have known the secret unless she had told him? Kendrick also said he had the necklace and Gavin had not been able to find it to put in her coffin with her. That had been a great source of sorrow to him since it had belonged to his mother and it was yet one more reason for him to hate Kendrick Muir.
On the way back, he had known that Allana was riding behind him and he could feel her eyes boring into his back almost as if she was touching him. Perhaps it would have been better to leave her at the inn, but he knew that he could not have done that. She was a lady, after all. When it was time for dinner Allana dressed in a pretty but plain dress of pale blue silk which set off her olive skin and dark hair to perfection. When Gavin saw her, he was seized by a longing so desperate he could hardly contain himself. It was only the fact of Munro being there that kept them apart.
“When can I see Muir?” Munro asked suddenly. He had hardly touched his food and Allana could see the blazing light of fury in his eyes. “I want to make sure he never uses his clever tongue again!” His face was red and his fists were clenched so tightly that they resembled clubs. “I will cut it out!”
They both knew that Munro would never carry out such a threat. It was his rage and grief speaking. “After dinner,” Gavin replied. “You have hardly eaten a thing, Munro. You need your strength, especially now.”
Allana felt desperately sorry for him as he pushed his food around his plate, only managing a morsel or two. This morning his wife had been ill, but he had felt hope. Now, he had no wife and no hope. The only consolation he had was to know that Catherine’s killer would likely swing at the end of a rope, but that would not bring her back.
Gavin had been dreading the moment, but at last, he said, “It is time to go and see our prisoner. Allana, the dungeon is no place for a woman, especially a lady. I suggest you stay in the parlor or your bedroom.”
Her answer was predictable. “No,” she replied bluntly.
Gavin knew that it was useless to press the point, so he led them downstairs. Even with a guard behind them and one in front carrying torches, it was pitch black and very cold. Allana began to shiver both with the freezing temperature and with dread. At the end of a long passage, there was a small cell. It was utterly black and inside was a man, curled up and hugging his knees in a blanket. He was smeared with filth and shivering uncontrollably. Allana felt sorry for him until she saw who it was.
“Kendrick Muir!” Munro roared and threw himself at the bars. Allana jumped back in fright as he bounced off the metal struts. She landed in Gavin’s arms but extricated herself quickly—it was far too tempting to stay there.
Kendrick looked so pathetic that she almost felt sorry for him, but quickly hardened her heart when she thought of Catherine.
“Master Muir,” Gavin said smoothly. “How is your accommodation?”
“Abominable,” Kendrick replied his voice utterly miserable. They could hear his teeth chattering.
Gavin pretended to consider. Despite himself, he felt pity for the creature that now cringed before him and it was not in his nature to inflict misery on others. “I cannot have you freezing to death before you go to trial, so I will move you to warmer quarters, but it will not be much more comfortable.” He looked down at Kendrick’s legs. As well as his bleeding feet there were bruises all the way up to his thighs. “I see that my guards have been busy with you,” he observed. “I will put a stop to that; we are civilized here.”
“Now,” he continued, “you will be taken upstairs and given some clothes and another blanket. You will live on porridge, milk, bread, and vegetables, just enough to keep you alive. Do not waste time speaking to the guards for they will ignore you on my orders. Your life will be miserable and the only person to whom you can complain will be me. I will come to visit you if and when I see fit. You will stay here until you go to trial. Do you understand?”
“I do, but milady’s death was an accident!” Kendrick protested. “I would never have harmed her on purpose!”
“Then why did you run?” Allana asked. Kendrick merely gave her a contemptuous glare. Munro was being restrained by two guards as the cell door was open, but even those big men were having trouble holding him, such was the force of his fury.
“Do you think Laird Douglas is going to be all right?” Allana asked. “I worry about his broken heart. He loved his wife very much. And Kendrick? I care nothing for his welfare or comfort, but he needs to be kept alive for a while at least.”