Highland Groom (31 page)

A faint rustling in the brush behind her made Ilsa jump. She searched the area behind her and to either side, but could see nothing. Sternly telling herself she was allowing her fears to disorder her mind, she strode into the clearing surrounding the cottage. She used the walk to calm herself, to push all her fears down, deep inside of herself. If she was to have any chance at all of saving the children or herself, she was going to have to be cold-blooded and clear-headed.

There was a part of her that was already coldly determined, the part that wanted these people dead. It was a ruthless, vengeful part. These people had threatened her children, callously endangered the lives of innocent bairns.

There was no mercy in her heart for them. If she got a chance to kill them, she would not hesitate. It might appall her later, but she suspected she would find all the comfort she needed every time she saw her bairns smile.

Just as she reached the door, it was flung open, and Ilsa came face-to-face with Geordie's lover. The woman wore no concealing cloak now. Ilsa was shocked, but did her best to hide it as she met Margaret Campbell's ice-cold gaze. Those pale blue eyes were not empty now. They glittered with fury, a touch of triumph, and what Ilsa suspected was madness. She had the fleeting thought that she would have to tell Gillyanne she had been right about that anger.

It all made sense now. Margaret was Anabelle's Precious Love. Diarmot would certainly have found peace with this woman, the peace of the grave.

The fact that no one was guarding the approach to the cottage suddenly occurred to Ilsa. Margaret had obviously been watching for her, but Geordie was not at the window watching for anyone else. They had believed she would do exactly as they had commanded and had apparently not planned for any other contingency. Ilsa dearly wished she had known that. She would have brought an army with her.

"Greetings, Ilsa Cameron," said Margaret, speaking loudly so that she could be heard over Finlay's wailing.

"I believe I am Ilsa MacEnroy now or have ye chosen to ignore that as thoroughly as ye have ignored all good sense and reason?" asked Ilsa, fighting the urge to run to her child.

"I dinnae need to acknowledge something that will prove to be so verra short-lived." She stepped to the side. "Do come in."

Although it was tempting to stick one of her daggers in Margaret as she stood there so exposed and vulnerable, Ilsa resisted the urge. She walked into the cottage and briefly looked around, taking note of where everything and everyone was, just as Sigimor had taught her. Alice sat on the small bed, Cearnach lying on her right. She rubbed his back as she watched Lucy try to calm a screaming Finlay. Geordie sat at a small table drinking ale and eating oatcakes, occasionally glaring toward Lucy and Finlay.

Margaret slammed the door and also glared at Lucy. "Cannae ye shut that brat up?"

"Mayhap he is hungry," Lucy said.

"Mayhap he just doesnae like ye touching him," murmured Ilsa as she walked toward Lucy and took Finlay into her arms.

The baby's crying shuddered to a halt. Ilsa ignored the surprise Lucy, Geordie, and Margaret could not hide and rubbed Finlay's little back until he was breathing more evenly. She almost smiled as, once Lucy moved away, she set Finlay down next to Alice, for she was now between the children and the ones who wished to hurt them. It was obvious that they did not consider her any more of a threat than the children. Sigimor would find that very amusing.

"Weel, tis plain to see that ye arenae much use," Margaret said, frowning at Lucy.

Ilsa realized what was happening barely in time to cover Alice's eyes. Lucy had sat down next to Geordie. The moment Margaret spoke, the maid began to look uneasy. Margaret gave Geordie one long, hard look. He shrugged, wrapped his big hands around Lucy's neck and, before the girl could even gasp, he snapped her neck. Lucy's body slipped to the floor and he calmly went back to eating and drinking.

When Margaret idly poured herself a goblet of wine, Ilsa shivered. The complete lack of emotion the pair revealed as they had executed the maid was chilling. Lucy had served her purpose and they had tossed her aside with the ease of a diner casting a bone to the hounds.

These were not people who could be reasoned with, Ilsa decided as she took her hand from Alice's eyes, and rubbed the trembling child's back. Alice may not have seen the killing, but, young as she was, she had the wit to know what had just happened. It was an ugliness Ilsa could not shield her from now. There were far more important matters to deal with than Alice's tears. Ilsa could only pray she would have the chance to dry them later.

"Would ye like some wine?" Margaret asked Ilsa and she smiled faintly.

"Nay, thank ye," Ilsa replied. "I have tasted your wines before and found them too bitter." She noticed that Geordie paused in drinking his ale.

"Margaret?" he growled.

Margaret looked at him and sighed. "Geordie, ye wound me. I could ne'er have succeeded as weel as I have without your help and devotion. Do ye truly think I would reward that with a cup of poison?"

Geordie studied her for a moment, then returned to drinking his ale. Ilsa had to wonder if the man was so certain of his own charm he could not believe his lover would harm him, or if he was just lacking in wit. The fact that those who helped Margaret tended to end up dead should at least make him wary.

"Alice looks a great deal like her mother," Margaret said as she studied the child. She took a step toward Alice, but hastily stepped back again when Finlay began to whimper. "What is wrong with that bairn?"

Finlay quieted the moment Margaret stepped back and Ilsa shrugged. "I would guess that he doesnae like ye."

"Dinnae be ridiculous. He didnae cry when he was taken from the garden."

"Aye, he did," said Alice and she briefly glared at Geordie, "but Geordie gagged him. Near choked my brother to death in the doing of it, the swine."

"Hush your mouth, lass, ere I silence ye myself," growled Geordie. "I dinnae need to tolerate impudence from some whore's wee bastard."

Ilsa saw Margaret pale slightly and realized it was fury which caused that look. " 'Ware, Geordie. Ye shouldnae speak of Lady Anabelle that way."

"What do ye care? The laird's first wife is naught to ye," he said.

"Aye, she was naught to me, less than naught. She meant something to Margaret, though." Ilsa fixed her gaze upon Margaret. "Didnae she, Precious Love?"

"Ye think ye are so verra clever, dinnae ye?" Margaret shook her head. "Ye have nay proof."

"Diarmot soon will. He and my brothers will soon find out all they need to ken. The truth is there, at Muirladen, isnae it? Tis why he went there a year ago. Tis why ye set those men on him."

"He willnae find out any more now than he did then."

"Oh, I think he will. Ye havenae been able to kill all who kenned the truth.

Diarmot willnae be marrying ye when he returns to find himself widowed. Ye will be verra lucky if he doesnae hunt ye down like the rabid animal ye are." She tensed when Margaret hissed and started toward her, but then Finlay started to cry, and Margaret quickly retreated again.

"How are ye making the bairn do that?" Margaret snapped.

Although Ilsa was rather astonished by Finlay's behavior, she calmly brushed a thick curl from his forehead. "I am doing naught. He just doesnae like ye."

"Weel, he will be a verra quiet laddie soon," she murmured, then took another sip of wine. "I will only have to speak to Diarmot to make him believe he has heard naught but lies about me, evil lies. The mon was eager to wed with me ere ye ruined everything. He saw in me all he wanted in a wife, all he loved in a woman."

"Aye, placid stupidity."

There was such a flare of rage upon Margaret's face, Ilsa decided it was probably fortunate for her that Geordie distracted the woman by snorting with laughter. Ilsa was a little surprised that Geordie did not wilt beneath the look of furious loathing Margaret fixed upon him. It was possible Geordie thought himself the more important partner, thought himself safe because of what he knew or could do to help Margaret. Ilsa doubted Margaret saw it that way.

"Ye think ye suit him so much better, do ye?" Margaret snapped as she returned her attention to Ilsa. "Ye with your disgusting red hair and a form that is more bone than flesh? Aye, and with all those cursed red-haired brothers whose wits are as thick as cold mud?"

"Aye, and ye best nay forget about my brothers in all of your planning, Precious Love. They and my two score and more cousins will ne'er rest until they find the ones who killed me and my sons. Ye willnae ken one moment of rest until they set ye in your grave. They will be unrelenting in their hunt."

"Margaret?"

For a moment Ilsa thought Geordie was going to discuss the problem of all those enraged Camerons, but then she saw his face. He was dripping sweat, his face as white as bleached linen. His eyes slowly widened as he began to realize that he had been betrayed.

"I would suggest ye hurry and start emptying your belly," said Ilsa.

"Repeatedly."

"Ye filthy bitch, Margaret," he said, his voice hoarse with pain, as he tried to stand up.

"I am nay the one who is filthy," sneered Margaret. "Ye must pay for befouling me."

"Befouling ye?" Geordie finally stood up only to stagger to the right, bump into the wall, and slide down it to sit upon the floor. "We were lovers. Ye were the one who pulled me into your bed. I let ye seduce me, fool that I am."

"Jesu, dinnae remind me. Ye were hesitant to help me." Margaret shrugged.

"Letting ye rut on me served to rid ye of that hesitancy. It was nay more than that. I had to take such drastic measures in order to make that bastard Diarmot MacEnroy pay for my Anabelle's death. Think of this as a kindness I now do ye."

"A kindness?"

"Aye, ye will suffer less from this than from the hanging ye would face once they kenned ye had killed lady Ilsa and the bairns."

"Ye are utterly mad," he said, panting out each word.

"Did ye only just notice that?" Ilsa asked the mon. "Didnae ye e'er wonder o'er her need to kill Diarmot because she blamed him for his first wife's death?

She was nay blood kin to the woman."

"She said she loved Anabelle like a sister," Geordie said.

"I think not. They were lovers, Geordie. Margaret was Anabelle's Precious Love, was her lover for many years. She blames Diarmot for Anabelle's death, but twas dear Precious Love who gave Lady Anabelle the potion that killed her. Ye have sent your soul to hell for naught."

"Och, weel, it was bound for there ere I met this bitch. 'Ware," he whispered, "she reaches for my sword."

Ilsa tensed as she watched Geordie try to grab Margaret when she drew his sword from its scabbard only to fail. Margaret quickly danced out of his reach when he tried to grab her by the ankle, and, with a groan, Geordie fell onto his side. He curled up, much like a small child, and Ilsa knew he would soon be dead. The way Margaret held the sword and eyed her told Ilsa she might soon join him if she did not come up with a plan.

Nanty was just leaving the stable with Tom, wondering how he was going to explain what he had discovered to Ilsa, when there was a brief disturbance at the gates. The men had been shutting them since the sun was setting, but were now scrambling to open them again. Even as he hurried over to see what the trouble was, Diarmot rode in, followed by Tait, Sigimor, a man who looked far too much like Sigimor, and a fourth redheaded young man.

"Ye have returned sooner than was planned," said Nanty as Diarmot dismounted.

"Ye discovered something?"

"Aye," Diarmot replied and introduced Somerled and Liam to Nanty and Tom, then frowned at the small group of women who inched their way in through the gates. "Do ye recall Gillyanne's cousin Payton, Nanty?"

"Och, aye." Nanty studied Liam for a moment, then looked at the women who were all staring at the man. "Oh."

"I think this one might be even worse. May we help ye?" he asked the women.

The six women all muttered varying excuses about needing to visit Glenda or some kinswoman and fled into the keep. Nanty laughed. "And there they will stay for a while, I am thinking. Oh, I found the maid." He paused when a young maid approached with a tray of tankards brimming with ale. She served all the men, but kept her gaze fixed upon Liam. "There might be some advantage to having a Liam about," Nanty said, taking a drink and watching Sigimor scowl the young maid into retreating.

After enjoying a deep drink of the ale, Diarmot looked at Nanty. "Ye said ye had found the maid? Dead?"

"Aye, her throat was cut," Nanty replied. "I have just returned from where the body was found. Weel, actually, from the church where we took her to be buried. She was either murdered because she knew too much or taken away and murdered to turn our eyes in the wrong direction."

"It could easily be either one. Margaret Campbell is Precious Love."

"Jesu, and the maid came with her. So did another. I believe her name is Lucy. Margaret is truly the enemy?"

"Difficult to believe, aye?" Diarmot told Nanty everything he had discovered about the woman he had almost married.

"She fooled us all. E'en Gillyanne in some ways."

"Weel, Gillyanne tried to warn me, but couldnae be verra clear about why Margaret troubled her. I wouldnae have survived that marriage for long."

"Papa! Papa!"

Diarmot turned to see Odo running toward him from the far side of the keep, the side where the gardens were. Even as the little boy flung himself at Diarmot's legs, Gay, Fraser, Glenda, and Jenny hurried out of the keep toward him. He noticed that Gay and the two older women greeted Liam cordially, but no more. Jenny seemed stunned. Then a chill entered Diarmot's blood as he realized this was no welcome home. Something was wrong.

"Ilsa?" he asked.

"She isnae here," Gay said and quickly told Diarmot all that had happened in the garden.

"She went after them alone?"

"Tis what they said she must do," said Glenda. "Time was running out and we couldnae think of another plan, nay one that wouldnae add to the danger the bairns were in. Lady Ilsa did just as she was told, but she did say we could send someone along later, that she would keep Geordie and his woman's attention fixed upon her."