The Laird's Forbidden Lady (27 page)

Chapter Twenty

L
ooking as wild as some ancient warrior, Ian set the men to shoving the ashes outside where the women poured water every time they saw smoke rising.

A tug on her skirts drew Selina’s attention away from the work. ‘Tommy’s gone,’ Marie Flora said.

For a moment the words didn’t sink in. ‘Your brother, Tommy?’

‘I told him to wait beside the stream while I helped my father. He’s not there.’ Ignoring her aching back, Selina crouched down so she was eye to eye with the child. ‘Do you want me to help you look for him?’

Relief flooded her wide eyes. She nodded. With a groan Selina rose and took the child’s hand. ‘Show me where you left him.’

Pray Heaven the little lad hadn’t fallen into the stream.

She walked along beside the child, heading upstream from the mill, aching all over from the unaccustomed heavy work, limping more than usual.

‘There,’ Marie Flora said, pointing to a flat rock. ‘I told him to sit there with Milly and wait.’

‘Milly?’

‘Grannie gave him one of her chicks. Pa didn’t know he had it until we were halfway here.’

‘How did you get here?’

‘We borrowed Grannie’s cart. It is in the barn. We were going to walk to the village after, to visit.’

The barn lay on the other side of the courtyard, but a small door led out the back on the side facing them. The door was ajar. ‘Do you think he would be hiding in there?’ It didn’t seem likely even as she said it. The place would be full of smoke. Or not. The wind was blowing in the other direction.

‘If he’s hidin’, Pa will warm the seat of his breeches,’ the girl said.

As one they marched down the hill to the open door, two angry women ready to do battle with one recalcitrant little boy. Selina was already feeling sorry for little Tommy.

She pushed open the door.

‘Tommy,’ Marie Flora called. ‘Get out of here. Wait till I tell Pa.’

No answer. Just the soft noises of animals in their stalls.

‘Tommy,’ Marie Flora called again and there were tears in her voice. She was afraid he wasn’t here.

‘Tommy, come out now,’ Selina said, ‘and we will say nothing to your Da.’ She stepped deeper into the barn, her eyes adjusting to the dim light streaming in from this door and the opening to the courtyard.

She could see the cart and the donkey. And the pony Ian had hitched to the cart he had brought her home in when she fell off Topaz.

Something scuttled across the floor. A rat? She squeaked a protest.

‘Milly,’ Marie Flora said, diving forwards to catch the chick. ‘Tommy,’ she shouted. She rattled off something in Gaelic, but the scold in her tone made translation unnecessary. The warm breeches again, no doubt.

Peering into the gloom, Selina expected at any moment to see Tommy step out of hiding with a sneaky little grin on his face.

Holding the chick close to her chest, Marie Flora spun around. ‘Tommy.’ Now she sounded furious.

Little bits of straw floated down from above to fall on the child’s shoulder and in her hair.
Some landed on Selina’s face. She looked up. A loft! A ladder rested against an opening in the upper floor.

She touched her fingers to her lips and pointed upwards, then at the ladder. Comprehension filled the girl’s eyes. She pursed her lips and lowered her brows.

Oh, dear, Tommy was going to be in trouble.

‘I suppose he is not here,’ Selina said loudly. ‘We shall have to look elsewhere.’

‘He’ll catch it when Pa finds him,’ Marie Flora said, with quick understanding. She tucked the chick in her grimy apron pocket.

They stomped their feet and opened the door as if they were leaving, then crept to the ladder.

Marie Flora clambered up quietly and her head disappeared, then the rest of her. Selina followed more slowly, her skirts hampering her movements. When her head cleared the opening, she stopped in shock.

Both children were staring at her, their eyes wide and terrified in the light streaming in from the gable window. A knife glinted wickedly. The breath left her lungs in a rush and she grabbed for the edge.

The man who held the children in one arm, tight against his chest, and the knife in his hand against Marie Flora’s throat, smiled.

‘It seems luck is with me, after all. Do come right up, Lady Selina,’ Tearny said.

Ian stared around at the mess. The fire had been quite deliberate. Yet who on earth among those who knew about the still would want to see it damaged? Even if the success of the mill hadn’t meant good money for the clan, no Highlander in his right mind would want to see good whisky go up in flames.

He could imagine them stealing it and drinking it, but not this. He ran his gaze around the courtyard. Everyone here was covered in soot and working hard to clean up the mess.

Niall joined him, also looking around. ‘Anyone hurt?’

Ian shook his head. ‘No. And the damage is minimal. Whoever set the fire must not have realised that it is not the mill where we have been putting all our efforts.’

‘Do you think Albright might be behind it?’

He took a deep breath. His father-in-law had seemed more saddened than angry, though he had been that, too. ‘I don’t know, but it doesn’t make any sense. What good would it do him?’

‘Revenge.’

Ian glanced around for his wife. The last time he saw her she was passing buckets of water.

A group of women stood nearby, washing up in a bucket. He tapped the nearest one on the shoulder. ‘Have you see Lady Selina?’

The woman smiled. ‘Aye, Laird. Going up the
hill behind the barn with the wee McKinly girl, not more than five minutes ago.’

McKinly wandered over then; his face was grim. ‘The mill should nae take too much to repair. We were lucky to save my whisky.’

‘Aye, lucky. But how the hell did it start?’

‘‘Tis the oddest thing. My wee lad said he smelled the smoke of a pipe when we pulled up. I ne’er smelled a thing. I unloaded the barrels as you’d instructed and took the sacks of barley into the stable to unload it there when my wee Tommy yelled fire from outside.’ He rubbed at the back of his neck. ‘The mill door was open. I could have sworn I barred it behind me, but I’m that bluidy tired from harvesting … I’m sorry, Laird. It must have been a spark from the donkey’s hooves, or maybe my boots. I canna think of aught else.’

Had the other man been smoking and was now trying to lay the blame elsewhere? The clear gaze meeting his showed no signs of guile. A spark from a hoof hardly seemed likely, though.

‘Did Tommy see anyone?’

‘I didna’ ask him. I sent the bairns off to wait up the hill and ran for water. It took hold verra fast. Almost seemed like it had started in several places at once. I just thank God the barley is safe in the barn.’

Ian clapped McKinly on the shoulder. ‘And
I thank God you acted so quickly. I can never repay you.’

The other man smiled a shy smile. ‘Glad to do it, Laird.’ He looked around. ‘But now I can’t find Marie Flora. I told her to care for her brother. Next thing I see her passing buckets.’

‘Apparently she is with the Lady Selina. Come, man, we will find them together.’

The hillside behind the barn was deserted. Ian frowned. ‘One of the women said she saw them head in this direction.’

McKinly pointed to a flat rock. ‘This is where I told her and the boy to wait.’

Forced at the point of a knife to stand in a corner with the children, Selina watched Tearny scatter straw from a pile of bales all over the floor in little heaps. Her body was still trembling with the shock of seeing the knife held to Tommy’s scrawny little neck. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

Tearny laid his knife down at his feet and pulled out his tinderbox.

Dear God. Her stomach roiled. ‘You fired the mill.’

He smiled with terrible triumph. ‘Indeed. I told Gilvry when he paid me off he’d have his just deserts one of these days. The best of it is it comes with a reward. A good one.’

‘What are you talking about?’

His answer was a grin. He struck flint against steel. The click sounded terribly loud in the strained silence.

Tommy turned his face into her skirts. Marie Flora was looking up at her expectantly, relying on her to save them.

The tinder didn’t spark. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Tearny fiddled with the flint.

Selina eyed the distance to the knife and knew it was too far. Somehow she had to distract him.

‘Come, Mr Tearny, whatever grudge you hold against my husband, you surely do not wish to harm a woman and two children.’

‘Mr Tearny,’ he mimicked. ‘How are you today, Mr Tearny? You never expected an answer, though, did you, you haughty bitch. I saw how pleased you were, though, the day he gave me notice. You married the wrong man, my lady.’

This wasn’t making any sense. ‘I don’t see what my marriage has to do with you, Mr Tearny.’

‘No, I’m sure you don’t. Ian cock-of-the-walk Gilvry shouldn’t have brought you here today. You can blame him for this.’

His gaze went back to his tinderbox. ‘He should never have got his hands on Dunross.’ He struck the flint against the steel. Again no spark.

A horrid thought entered her mind, one she didn’t want to believe. ‘Are you doing this on my father’s behalf?’

He looked surprised, then he sneered. ‘This has nothing to do with your father. Still, I won’t be sorry to know he’ll also be grieving his loss.’

Her heart stopped at the callousness of his words. ‘My father won’t care one way or the other.’ She slid one foot forwards.

‘Do you think not? It is not the impression he gave me when he thought you were abducted. What a slut, going off in the night with Gilvry and letting everyone worry.’ He shot her a glare. ‘If he’d been picked up by the gaugers that night, we would all have been better off.’

‘Someone paid you to betray him.’

‘Quick, aren’t you?’

She inched forwards another step. ‘Thank you. Who was it?’

His glanced up, his eyes gleaming with cunning. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’

Blast the man. ‘As soon as you walk out of here, they will know you are to blame. Let us go and I’ll say nothing.’

His lip curled. ‘No one saw me come and no one will see me leave. I might not be a Scot, but I know my way around these hills better than most.’

Two more steps and she’d be close enough to dive for the knife—if she could just keep him
talking. ‘Don’t I have the right to know who is behind my death?’

He struck the flint again. The straw caught.

Little Tommy cried out. Tearny’s eyes snapped to the child. He picked up the knife and waved it. ‘Enough talk. It is time I was finished here. I have a purse to collect.’ He tucked the knife in his waistband.

Her heart pounded. Her voice shook. ‘If it is me you want to hurt, let the children go.’

He glanced at Marie Flora. ‘Well, little girl? Would you know me again?’ He spoke so kindly, so mildly, he sounded almost harmless.

‘Aye. I know you,’ Marie Flora said, her curls springy with defiance. ‘You are a bad man.’

Selina groaned. Wrong answer, child. Not that she believed the right one would have done them any good. Tearny had made up his twisted mind.

He crouched and blew gently on the spark. The small pile of straw between his knees smouldered, then flared. He picked up the bundle and backed down the ladder, until all they could see was his face like some grinning devil emerging from the pit of hell. He touched the flames to the straw encircling the hole in the floor and tossed the bundle at them, making them back up. In that brief second, they lost any chance of getting out.

‘Scream all you want, Lady Selina,’ he said.
‘Hopefully Gilvry will rush to save you and it will be the end of him, too.’

As he disappeared, she rushed for the opening. The heat of the flames drove her back. While she whirled around, looking for another way out, the flames spread, racing outwards. The dry timber of the floor started to catch.

Smoke filled her mouth and her nose. It was hopeless.

Chapter Twenty-One

I
an and McKinly had walked a good distance up the hill and still no sign of Selina or the children.

‘She’s a grand lass, your wife,’ McKinly said. ‘Marie Flora has done nothing but talk about her since she left. How she peeled the tatties and mended my shirts. And the way she joined the women on the buckets, you would never know she was a lady born. You should be proud of her.’

‘I am,’ Ian said. Proud enough to realise she was far too good for the likes of him. His biggest fear right now was her being caught here by the gaugers or the local militia. He had to get her away. ‘Where in hell’s name did they go?’

McKinly glanced back down the hill towards the mill and froze. ‘Dear God, not again,’ he muttered. ‘The barn is on fire.’

Startled, Ian turned.

Wisps of smoke were curling up from the roof. He cursed. ‘Fire,’ he roared racing downhill. He had to get the animals out. And the barley, or all of their earlier efforts wouldn’t mean a damn thing.

‘I don’t get it,’ McKinly panted, jogging alongside him. ‘The smoke is from inside the roof. Perhaps we should have looked there first.’

Holy hell. ‘You think the children are in there?’

The look of terror in McKinly’s eyes was answer enough.

Ian increased his pace. If the children were there, then … He didn’t dare finish the thought.

He ducked through the low-arched door as a male figure ran out through the open double doors into the courtyard opposite. He hesitated, looking around.

‘Up there!’ McKinly yelled. Two small legs dangled from the trapdoor where the ladder should have rested. It lay on the floor. A moment later, the rest of Tommy appeared, in his shirtsleeves, his hands above his head, dangling far above the floor.

Ian and McKinly ran beneath the opening where Selina’s head and shoulders were now visible. She was holding the lad, her hands gripping the boy’s elbows, smoke writhing around her. ‘Let him go,’ Ian called. ‘I’ll catch him.’

She raised her face, the effort of holding the
boy etched on her features, along with the flash of relief when she realised help had come.