Twenty

Amber walked sedately down the stairs to the great hall, which was filled with warriors eating their noonday meal, several lasses moving amongst the tables with platters of meat and jugs of ale, and other servants who worked under Finola or Niall. She held her chin high and placed her arms regally across her waist, reminding herself she was lady of this castle. Even if she had spent the last two and a half days locked in her bedchamber with her husband, being tupped every which way and doing things she’d ne’er imagined she’d do.

Who knew she could be so wanton and love every second of it?

But she didn’t want anyone else to know that—other than her husband, of course—and she just dared any of her clan to say anything about it.

Lachlan sat with Gregor and his foster brothers over by the hearth, leaning over what looked like a map spread out on a low table—no doubt discussing the latest sightings of Machar Murray and their plan to catch him.

Her heart squeezed upon seeing Lachlan, as it did every time. He faced the stairs, and she knew he’d done so in order to see her come down. He lifted his head and smiled when he saw her, raising his hand in acknowledgment. She smiled and raised hers back to him, wondering for a moment if he would follow her if she turned around and went back up again.

He had come down earlier than her to give her some time alone before she faced everyone, and to make sure all the ribbing he’d receive from his brothers and Gregor happened before she appeared. And to talk about Murray, of course.

Lachlan hadn’t said that, but it turns out wives could understand all the things their husbands didn’t say too.

She was just like Isla now, with that special connection to a husband who loved her—he’d said so.

And she loved him too. She hadn’t told him yet, but she would. The next time they were alone, she’d sit him down, tell him to stop touching her breasts, with which he was definitely obsessed, and just say it. She’d had ample opportunity before to tell him, but for being a woman who spoke her mind, she’d suddenly found herself unable to form the words.

“Well, well, look who finally got off her back,” Isla said from down below, one eyebrow raised, smirking up at her like a round, wee weasel.

Amber darted a look around the great hall to make sure no one was within earshot, then said, “I was hardly e’er on my back. You need to teach Alban some new tricks if that’s all he’s doing to you. Lachlan is most inventive.”

Isla’s mouth dropped open, then she laughed. “Aye, I knew you’d love it. How long did you last? I saw Lachlan carrying you up the stairs like he meant business after you ran out of here.”

She hurried the last few steps toward her friend, all thoughts of living up to her title evaporating. They hugged, and Amber found herself getting teary-eyed again. God’s blood, she was turning into a wee lass, crying at everything.

“Not long. We slept through the first night and then in the morning…” She gave Isla a look.

Isla gave her a look back and tugged her in the opposite direction from the hearth, where they sat on a bench in a secluded corner. Amber had to help her friend down, and she wondered if she would ever change her mind about having bairns and end up as round as Isla.

“Not much longer now,” she said, slipping into healer mode and palpating her friend’s belly. “Are you all ready?”

“Aye, I’ve been ready for weeks. I canna wait to be done.”

“Send a message when your pains start, no matter what time of day. It doesn’t matter if Machar Murray is sitting at the gates, I will come. I may be lady here, but I’m your friend and healer first, aye?”

“Aye, no one doubts you’re still our healer, Amber, and you’ve always been our lady, whether you were married to the laird or not.”

Amber pulled her into a tight hug, those annoying tears filling behind her eyelids again. When they parted, Isla said, “Now…tell me everything.”

She blushed, and again found herself tongue-tied. “I canna tell you everything.”

“Aye, you can. Have you told him you love him yet? You do love him, right?”

She felt herself melting, softening, and she looked across the great hall to where Lachlan sat in front of the hearth with his foster father and brothers.

Isla took her hands and melted too. “Aye, you love him, I can see it in your eyes. What did he say? Has he told you too?”

“He told me I was his everything.”

Isla also got teary, as pregnant women were wont to do, and she wiped them away. “What did you say?”

Amber pursed her lips, and Isla’s eyes widened in dismay. “Och, you didn’t say you loved him back?”

She shifted uncomfortably. “Not yet, but I will.”

“Aye, you will.” She pinched Amber on her backside and pushed her up. “Right now. Imagine how you would feel if you told Lachlan he was your everything, and he said naught in return.”

“I didn’t say naught in return. I… I…well, I took him inside my body for the first time, and he knew exactly what I was telling him. You’re the one who told me that husbands should be able to know things without their wives saying it.”

Isla rolled her eyes and pinched her backside again to get her moving. “He needs the words. Same as you. Go tell him. And I want every detail, so come back as soon as you can.”

Amber stepped toward the hearth and looked up to see Lachlan watched her. She wasn’t close enough to see his expression clearly, but she knew by his posture he’d seen her coming and was pleased by it. She smiled and hurried toward him, excited to sit beside him and whisper in his ear that she loved him. And maybe something else too. Something carnal—while his step-father sat on his other side.

Aye, she could have great fun with that. How long would it take him to scoop her up in his arms and carry her back to their bedchamber?

When she was about halfway to the hearth, the outside door slammed. She glanced over, still smiling, and saw Ian. His face was wan, dark smudges circled his eyes, and he looked like he might burst into tears at any moment.

He took a step toward her, swaying, then took another and broke into a run. Amber’s smile dropped, and she grabbed his arms to steady him when he reached her. Several of her clan had noticed and looked toward them, concerned.

“Ian. What’s wrong?”

Oh God, please let Breanna be all right.

He leaned heavily on her shoulder, shaking, and whispered into her ear, “I was supposed to tell you yesterday, but you didn’t come down. And I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone but you.”

“Tell me what? What’s happened?” Fear twisted her stomach. Her heart raced.

“Machar Murray—he took Adaira. He said he will only trade her for you.”

* * *

Lachlan swallowed his irritation. Amber stood in the middle of the great hall, hugging Ian.

First Isla, now Ian. Who would waylay her next? Niall?

Lachlan wanted his wife beside him now. In fact, if he could just tie her to him, he would be happy. Which, of course, made him think on last night when he’d tied her to the bed and had his way with her. Slowly.

She’d promised—nay, threatened—to bind him next. Maybe if they went back upstairs, she would do that right now?

“Shall we take bets on how long he’ll stay down here?” Callum asked Gregor and the other brothers.

“Not long, by the look of him,” Kerr said.

Lachlan shot them a dark look and shifted his sporran over his body. He returned to watching Amber, seeing that she’d turned her back on him and held Ian’s shoulders in a tight grip, as if she talked to him seriously.

He sat forward, a feeling of disquiet seeping through him.

Still, he threw an aside to Callum. “Quit thinking about what I do with my wife in our marriage bed and get your own. Wife, that is. Maggie’s waited long enough.”

The brothers all laughed or “ooohed” at Lachlan’s comment.

Callum sat back and scrubbed his hands through his short hair. “Aye, she has. Maybe I’ll ride back with Gavin and stop at Maggie’s clan on the way home. Both Caitlin and Amber said I was an idiot for waiting.”

Lachlan knew that what Callum had said was important, and he wanted to pay attention, to lend his support like his other brothers were doing, but something wasn’t right. He could see it in the angle of Amber’s head, the rigidity of her back.

“Where’s Adaira?” he asked suddenly.

The lairds fell silent, hearing Lachlan’s tone and going on alert.

“I haven’t seen her since the morning after the wedding,” Gregor said.

“I saw her in the stables with Ian later that same day, but not since then,” Darach added.

“You think something’s happened to her?” Gavin asked, his expression turning grave. Aye, a missing child would indeed concern Gavin.

“I doona know, but something’s wrong,” he said as he shot from his chair and strode toward Amber. His brothers and Gregor followed.

“Amber,” he called.

She turned to him, her face stricken. “Murray has Adaira,” she blurted out.

He broke into a run, his heart pounding. “When? How?”

“Ian was in the woods this morning, and Murray accosted him. He gave Ian a message for you. He has Adaira at the falls. He wants you and the rest of the lairds to come get her. He said he’ll only trade her for you.”

“It’s a trap,” Callum said.

“Aye. We’ll have to spring it like we did all the rest.” Lachlan looked at Ian and noticed Amber still had a firm grip on his arm. “Did you see Adaira? Did Murray have any proof he has her or that she was still alive?”

Ian raised his gaze, his eyes filled with guilt. “She was with me. We were tracking an injured doe when Murray grabbed her. I tried to stop him taking her, but I couldnae.”

A scratch and bruise marred his face, about a day old, and Lachlan noted he held his hand close to his body. Something didn’t add up. “You’re hurt, lad. Did you fight him this morning?”

Amber’s hand clenched Ian’s arm again just before she answered. “Nay, those are from yesterday. He tripped in the stables. Just avoided landing on the new foal.”

He switched his attention to his wife, and she gazed back at him. Her lip trembled, and she burrowed into his arms. “Please, Lachlan. Find her. She thinks she knows enough about fighting to defeat him, but she doesn’t. I’m afraid she’ll anger him more than he already is, and he’ll kill her before I…before you get there. Go to the falls, but be careful. He may have a way out.”

Lachlan wrapped his arms around her. He could feel her trembling, and he pulled her tighter. All his instincts to soothe her and keep her safe roared to the forefront, blocking out everything else. “We’ll find her, Amber, and we’ll catch Murray. He must be at his wits’ end to even consider this. ’Tis not a well-thought-out plan. We’ve already searched the caves thoroughly, and they doona lead anywhere.”

Amber nodded, squeezed even closer, as if she thought she’d ne’er see him again. Then she stood on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear, “I love you, Lachlan MacKay. You are my everything too. Always remember that.”

* * *

Amber stood on the castle wall with Ian, watching the lairds and half their men ride out toward the woods. The other half Lachlan had left guarding her and the castle. He still thought abducting Adaira was only the first step in Murray’s plan, and he’d assigned her bodyguards, including Earc, Malcolm, and Hamish, whom he trusted with his life.

And he was right. It was only the first step in Murray’s plan. The rest of it was Amber’s plan. Get Lachlan and the lairds away from the castle, evade her guards, find the last remaining escape route Murray had told Ian about, and sneak back to her cottage undetected—as Murray had instructed.

Amber knew Murray’s promise to trade Adaira for her was a lie, so she’d have to free Adaira herself. And that meant Murray would probably kill her—but she wouldn’t go down without a fight. She had knives stashed in her cottage under both mattresses and in the kitchen. She had an iron poker against the hearth, and she had a vat of pickling juice that would sting if splashed in his eyes.

She also knew poisons, as did he. She would go through her bag here, and once she was in her cottage, she’d try to access her supply of herbs there too. She’d do her best to slow him down that way. Just long enough for her to pierce his heart.

And this time she would do it. He’d put the people she loved at risk for the last time.

“You canna go, Amber,” Ian said, his voice low and shaking.

“Aye, Ian. I can and I will. Otherwise, he’ll kill Adaira and still come after us. He’ll go through everyone I care about, including Breanna, everyone Lachlan cares about, until there’s no one left. ’Tis not in my nature to sit back and let someone else fight my battles.”

“You said he’ll kill Adaira. Well, he’ll kill you too.”

“Maybe, but he’ll die in the process.”

Ian groaned and shoved his hands in his hair. Amber heard him sob and wrapped her arms around him, pulling the lad in close. “I want you to stay back from the cottage until you see Adaira come out. Then get her to the castle. Only after you’re both safe do you tell everyone the truth. Otherwise, Murray will capture you and use you against me just as he’s using Adaira. And doona tell anyone before then or they’ll storm the cottage, and Murray will kill Adaira and me.” She squeezed Ian tighter, pressing her face to his dark, shaggy hair. “’Tis the best plan we have, Ian. Please, tell me you’ll help.”

He nodded, straightened, and wiped his face. She saw him age before her eyes, going from a lad of fourteen to a man. It broke her heart that she had to force such a decision on him. Nay, Murray had done that. He’d done all of it.

And now it was time for Amber to kill him.

“Go get something to eat, lad, and take something to give Adaira later too. We doona know if Murray has fed her. Then go to Murray’s old bedroom and wait for me.”

He left, and a few minutes later she went to her bedroom. The covers on the bed had been straightened, the jug of mead refilled, and her evening meal placed on a tray as she’d requested.

She had about two hours before dusk and considered saying goodbye to Niall, but knew she’d break down, and he’d suspect something, the old badger. Instead, she wrote a letter to him, to Isla, and then one to Lachlan. The ink ran in several places as she wasn’t always fast enough to wipe away her wayward tears before they hit the page.

When she was done, she put them on the table with the mead and wrote their names on the front before laying the contents of her bag on her bed, knowing she had limited resources and little time left.

She started with her knives, hiding them in her socks, her dress, and even in the braid she plaited at the back of her hair. Then she went through her medicines, deciding how she could use each vial. By the end of it, she decided it was useless—unless she could hold Murray down and pour the entire contents into his mouth and down his gullet. And she was afraid to dip the knives in the poison lest they nick her skin.

When the gloaming came, she squared her shoulders and left her room. Earc and Hamish waited outside. Malcolm was at the top of the stairs leading to the great hall.

“I’m going upstairs,” she said. “I want to go through Murray’s belongings in his room. Maybe Niall missed something when he looked through. He’s getting a wee bit senile.”

Earc and Hamish looked at each other, and she could read in their eyes they thought it was a useless task, but that it would keep her occupied until Lachlan came back with Adaira.

“Aye, lass,” Hamish said. “We’ll take you up.”

She tried not to show any impatience as she mounted the stairs with them to the fourth floor. It hadn’t occurred to her they would check the room, but with all the secret tunnels they’d unearthed, they would do so, for sure. She panicked a moment before saying, “Ian’s inside. I asked him to help. Doona spook him. He’s verra upset about Adaira.”

“Aye, lass,” Earc said this time, his voice thick with worry. “We all are.”

Amber squeezed his arm. “We’ll get her back, Earc. I promise.”

Hamish knocked, and the door opened a second later from the inside. Amber peeked around her guard and saw Ian looking scared. “Come here, love,” she said. “Let Hamish have a look, so they know Murray’s not hiding under the bed.”

He scurried to her side, and she squeezed his arm to calm him. Hamish reappeared a moment later. “All clear. We’ll let you know when we’ve heard anything from the lairds.”

“Thank you, both of you. I appreciate all you’ve done.”

She entered the room with Ian and closed the door. The quilts were mussed up, like he’d been lying on them. She hoped he’d gotten some sleep. By the look of him earlier, he hadn’t slept at all the night before, worried sick about Adaira and not being able to reach Amber.

“Did he say what we should look for?” she asked softly.

“Aye. Under the mattress.”

“But they would have looked there for any tunnels.”

“Nay, not a tunnel. A rope.”

Her jaw dropped open. “But…but… Are we to go out the window?”

“I expect so.” He flipped the mattress onto the floor, and she saw a strong, thick rope tied to the bed’s heavy, wooden frame.

Her stomach turned, and she felt like she might throw up. They were four stories up. She’d fallen and hurt herself just going over the edge of the castle wall on a rope. She would kill herself if she fell this time.

It made sense now that Murray had chosen this room as his sanctuary. Not only was the bar for the door extra thick and the bolts and brackets extra strong, but this side of the keep was flush to the curtain wall, so Murray would be able to climb all the way down to the outside of the castle.

She sat on the hearth and dropped her head in her hands. “I canna do it. I doona have the strength.”

“It’s not that hard, Amber, once you know how.” He sat on the edge of the bed frame, unspooled the heavy rope, then placed it beside his leg. “Look, you loop the rope under one foot and over the other foot to stand on it. The tighter your feet are together, the slower you’ll go down. To go faster, push your legs apart.” He widened his legs to show her, the rope still looped around his feet.

“Who told you that? That’s crazy.”

He smiled, the first one she’d seen from him today. “Your laird and husband. And he showed me how too. He’s incredible at it. Verily, as fast as a rabbit, and he can climb up the rope too.” He stood and motioned her forward. “Here, sit down.” She did, and he looped the rope under her left foot, then over her right foot. “Feet in to stand on it. Feet out to slide down.” He hefted the rope over to the window. “Look, I’ll go first, then I’ll try to catch you if you fall.”

“Nay, you’ll stay back,” she said, alarmed. “I doona want to crush you.”

He scrunched up his face, thinking, and she looked at the door. Whom could she get to help them? Earc, maybe. He loved Adaira and would want to see her safe. But how could she let him in and get him to listen without alerting Hamish?

Closing her eyes, she shook her head. She couldn’t. Instead, she moved to the door and very quietly, so as not to alert her guards, slid the bar across. Now they were locked in.

“I’ll go first,” she said, moving to the window and staring out into the black night. The moon was a tiny sliver, and she couldn’t see the ground. “You can hold on to me at the top until I get my feet right.”

Ian had fed the rope through, and she realized she needed to go out feetfirst on her belly. “Help me up.”

He did, awkwardly, and by the time her legs were dangling out the other side, her skirts had pushed to her ears, and her bare arse was waving to the wind. She would have laughed at the absurdity of it, but she might possibly be seconds away from her death. And if she did make it down, then she would probably die by Murray’s hand within the hour.

She looked at Ian, for the first time not begrudging the tears that flooded her eyes and ran down her cheeks. “If I doona make it, tell Lachlan how much I love him, and how happy he’s made me these last few weeks.”

“You willna die, Amber. I’ve got you. Just loop your feet how I showed you—under the left, over the right—and find your footing.”

She did, and discovered she had some stability when she tested it. Ian let her out the window a wee bit more, and she had to hold back a frightened wail.

“I have an idea,” he said, and let go with one hand as she gripped the rope. A moment later, he pushed her skirts out the window, so her arse was covered, his cheeks heating in embarrassment, then slipped his long length of plaid behind her back, under her arms, and tied it. “All right, I’ll have you from up here for at least halfway. Now just widen your feet a wee bit and lower yourself down. ’Tis not that long a fall after that.”

“Long enough to break my neck.” But she felt better knowing Ian held her from the top, and she carefully lowered herself over the edge…and kept going. The hardest part was holding on to the rope with her hands. Halfway down, Ian’s plaid fell away, and she knew she was on her own. Well, if her husband could do it, so could she. She widened her legs a wee bit farther, then yelped as she flew down.

In a terrifying moment, she lost her grip and fell backward into the black abyss. Only to land a half second later on her backside on the ground. Ian landed moments after her.

“’Twas not so bad, was it?” he asked.

“Nay, not at all,” she said weakly. “Let’s go get Adaira.”