Claray grunted in pain as her movement sent the chair she was tied to toppling over sideways. It left her helpless on the ground, still bound to the chair and unable to get out of the way when Mhairi followed and started to slash out at her. Unable to do anything else, Claray closed her eyes and waited for the pain to strike. It came as something of a surprise when—rather than feel the pain she expected—she heard Mhairi bark, “Let me go!”
She was even more startled to hear a man’s angry voice next. “What the hell are ye doin’?”
Blinking her eyes open, Claray lifted her head off the ground to peer wildly around and thought she’d weep with joy when she saw that Hamish was there and had caught the woman by the wrist before she could stab her.
“I’m riddin’ Deagh Fhortan o’ its evil!” Mhairi shrieked, and began to struggle. “Let me go! ’Tis what God wants!”
Hamish wrestled with her briefly, but when she got her hand loose and slashed his arm, he growled and slammed her into the wall. Claray winced as she heard the crack of the woman’s head hitting the stone. Eyes wide, she watched Mhairi crumple to the ground in a lifeless heap, and then Claray let her head fall back to the dirt and closed her eyes on a sigh of relief at the knowledge that she was saved.
“Claray? Are ye all right?”
Blinking her eyes open, she managed a smile for the man who had rescued her. In the next moment though, she was wincing in pain and closing her eyes when the bindings dug painfully into her side, hip and outer leg as he shifted the chair back to its upright position. It landed on all four legs with a bump that she felt throughout her entire body.
“Are ye all right?”
Claray opened her eyes again to find Hamish kneeling in the dirt before her, his expression full of concern as he gazed into her face. Managing a smile, she nodded weakly. “Aye. Thank God ye found us, Hamish. Mhairi is mad. She’s the one who poisoned Conall’s parents and the others, and she was going to kill me too.”
“Whist, loving,” Hamish soothed, palming her cheek gently. “Yer safe now I’m here. She can no’ hurt ye. I plan to save ye, body and soul.”
Claray stared at him blankly. “What?”
“Where to now, wolf?” Conall asked in a quiet voice. They had reached the final exit of the passage. There had been three or four along the way besides the ones on the upper floor that led into the bedrooms. Each had a peephole that he’d been able to peer through to see what lay beyond. The first exit after the bedchambers had come after descending a set of steep stairs. It had opened into the pantry. The second had opened into the chapel. There had been another set of stairs leading downward again before a third opening, a trap door that had opened just outside the curtain wall. This fourth exit, however, appeared to be the last and had opened out into a small, empty cave with steps leading up to another trap door.
Conall had pushed it open and led the wolf out into a tiny area surrounded by bushes. After leading the way through those, he’d scanned the forest around them and then asked his question of his companion. Or companions, he supposed as his gaze slid over Squeak, who was now standing on the wolf’s neck with both paws on the top of his head as he looked around, sniffing the air just as the wolf was now doing.
When Lovey turned and started to lope to the north, Conall followed silently, his gaze searching the forest around them and the ground for any signs that Claray and whoever had taken her may have passed this way. But he couldn’t see a damned thing that would back up the possibility. He’d have to depend on the wolf to lead him to his wife, and hoped he was right in doing so.
Chapter 26
“I do no’ understand, Hamish? Why are ye touchin’ me like that?” Claray asked with confusion, and then deciding she wasn’t really as interested in the answer as she was in being set free, she requested, “Please untie me.”
“Hush.” He pressed his fingers to her lips and shook his head. “’Tis fine. All will be well. I ken ye did no’ want to enjoy the bedding.”
Claray jerked her head back sharply, alarm and embarrassment coursing through her. “What?”
“I heard ye talkin’ to Lady MacKay on the journey here,” he explained. “I ken ye were worried that yer husband’s pleasurin’ ye would land yer soul in hell. And I heard the stupid bitch try to tell ye that if he gave ye pleasure he must want ye to enjoy it and so ye should because ye’d vowed to obey him.” His mouth tightened. “I worried about ye then bein’ so led astray by the bitch. I truly did.”
Claray swallowed. “Hamish, I—”
“Let me finish, lass. I do no’ blame ye fer anything,” he assured her. “Do ye remember on our first day here, when Conall went to find ye after we got the feral pigs out o’ the keep? Ye were in the gardens with the bitch and her daughter.”
“Aye,” Claray said with confusion. “What o’ it?”
“Well, when the ladies returned without ye, I thought I’d best go check and be sure he was no actin’ the animal he is,” he explained. “But ye were no’ in the gardens, or the orchard either. Ye were in the water when I got to the edge o’ the trees, and I arrived just in time to hear him order ye to enjoy his touch. I ken the whorish way ye acted then was no’ yer fault,” he assured her. “Ye’d vowed to obey him, so o’ course ye had to obey, or at least pretend to enjoy it when he put his filthy hands and mouth on ye.”
“Oh, God, ye watched us?” she asked with horror.
“Aye, and I saw all the filthy things he did to ye,” he said, but while his tone of voice was solemn, his eyes were not, and his free hand was rubbing his groin. “I tried to kill him then, to free ye, but he moved and me arrow sailed right over him, and then he rolled ye into the water and a hue and cry arose.”
Claray stared at him silently for a minute, her mind bouncing around like a trapped bird inside her skull, and then whispered, “It was you who shot me in the stables.”
“Aye. I’m sorry, lass,” he said apologetically. “I was aiming fer Conall, but he moved again.” Annoyance crossed his face, and he added, “He treated ye sorely, bendin’ ye over the pen and japing ye like a bitch in heat, then up against the post like a harlot. I kenned ye probably found it unbearable and I meant to end him. I never meant to hit you.”
Claray stared at him with disbelief, wondering how he could think that would make it better. She had no desire to see Conall dead. She loved him.
That was a thought that caught her by surprise. Claray had liked Conall from the start, admired his sense of honor and determination to look after his people. She also appreciated all he had done for her, rescuing her from Kerr, carrying her before him on his mount while she slept, no matter that he was exhausted. He’d also been most patient with her rescuing animals at every turn on the way home to MacFarlane when she’d known he hadn’t wanted her to. He was a good man—he worked day and night here to build a home for them all, and he’d tended to her when she was injured and ill with such gentleness and kindness. And then there was his loving.
Aye, at first Claray had worried that her soul might be in peril because of the pleasure he gave her, but she’d come to terms with that. It was just too beautiful and intimate to be something God would begrudge them. Surely, if He hadn’t wanted them to enjoy each other like that, He wouldn’t have made it possible for people to enjoy it as they did. At least that was her reasoning. Perhaps it was just a justification to allow her to continue to enjoy her marital bed without guilt, but since she found it impossible not to, she was happy to accept that justification.