Chapter Fifteen
Mairi rushed over. “Ian, let go.”
Ian’s hand unclenched, and he let it drop back to his side. “Tell the man to stop trying to give me last rites. I’m not dying.”
“I should hope not,” Father Lassiter said, his voice sour. He rubbed a hand at his neck where his black shawl was askew. “For if ye die after attacking a man of God, ye’re likely to go straight to a fiery inferno.”
Ian’s eyes closed. “Are there any other types of infernos?” he asked.
“Father,” Mairi said. “Please take a seat.” She turned to see Bessy’s stricken face before she ran up the steps toward the bedrooms above. “I will get ye some wine.”
“Make it a whisky,” he said, frowning Ian’s way.
Tor and Cullen strode in through the door, nodding toward the priest before returning to Mairi. Tor walked right up to her, grabbing her in a hug.
“Tor!” she yelled. “I’ll spill Father Lassiter’s whisky.”
Cullen snatched the wooden cup from her hand, and Tor continued to wrap her in a hug. “Let me hold ye a second, Mairi,” he said. “I thought I’d never see ye again.”
Mairi let her body relax in her brother’s arms and hugged him back. She felt a press of tears behind her eyelids. He set her on her feet and rubbed his beard. She sniffed, grinning up at him. “’Tis good to see ye.” She leaned around him to smile at Cullen. “And thank ye both for coming to find me.”
“Well, now, that’s better,” Cullen said, walking up to swing her into his own arms. Before, Mairi’s heart would have skipped a beat at being pressed against her brother’s best friend. But now his embrace felt like that of another brother.
“Let her go.” Alec’s voice came from behind Mairi.
Instead of releasing her feet to the ground, Cullen continued to hold her to him. “And who are ye to tell me what to do?” Cullen asked.
Alec took steps toward them. “Ye aren’t her kin, and ye have a wife of your own.”
“She isn’t your wife, either,” Tor said. “Nor her captor anymore.”
For several seconds, Mairi hung there. “Let me down, Cull.” She hit the heel of her hand into his shoulder, and he lowered her until her toes found the floor. She turned out of his arms to face all three of them. Her eyes narrowed. “The battle is over. I am freed and safe, and there is still a killer loose if Fergus didn’t kill Alec’s wife. Instead of continuing to glare and threaten one another, I think ye should put your energy into figuring out who attacked the MacNeils.”
The priest stood. “What’s this? Fergus MacInnes killed Joyce MacNeil. He left a note stabbed to the woman’s breast.”
“’Twas not his signature,” Mairi said.
“Why would someone put the blame on MacInnes?” Father Lassiter asked, but no one answered.
“I’m just interested in returning ye to Aros,” Tor said. “Or to Kilchoan. Geoff’s on the ship.” He watched her closely, but she looked away, her stomach tight.
“Where is the ship?” she asked.
“My two galleons shot cannon holes through MacInnes’s ship off the coast of South Uist,” Alec said, stepping closer to her, his challenging gaze on Tor. “It’s still afloat but is moored for repairs there before it is seaworthy.”
“Ye could return us to Mull,” Cullen said. “Since ye are the reason we left.”
“And leave my clan open to another attack while I’m away?” Alec asked, crossing his arms. “Not likely.” His biceps bulged.
Millie bustled around them, setting out little clay pots and long strips for covering wounds. Her gaze fell on their lips, reading the heated conversation. She stepped before Alec, tugging on his shirt. He held it for her while she worked a poultice into a thin strip of linen and placed it over the long slash.
“We will stay here until we can help Alec figure out who attacked and killed his wife,” Mairi said. “At least until Geoff brings the ship down from South Uist.”
Millie circled behind Alec, tying the linen behind him to keep the poultice in place. Letting his shirt fall, she pointed at Tor and made gestures for him to peel off his shirt.
“Check Cullen first,” Tor said. “Take off your shirt,” he said, and Cullen lifted his linen shirt over his broad shoulders and head. Several cuts lay barely closed; two of them looked red.
“Good God, Cull,” Mairi said, stepping closer. “If ye die of taint, Rose will either fall into insanity or slice me open with that sword ye gave her on your wedding day.” She reached to touch the three-inch gash when a hand coiled around her wrist.
Alec turned her away. Mairi’s breath caught at the lethal glint in his gaze. “Let Millie take care of it. See to your brother’s head.”
Tor stood to the side watching, his hands stuck in his armpits. He released one to wave at Cullen. “My head can wait. Go ahead, Mairi, tend Cullen’s cuts. He has many. There’s one even on his arse.”
“Ballocks,” Cullen swore, giving Tor a sour look.
“There, too?” Tor said. “Mairi, he’ll need his ballocks checked.”
“She will not,” Alec’s voice boomed, the sound startling Bessy who’d just braved returning to the room. She pivoted, retreating upstairs again. Mairi went to Tor, frowning at the inquisitive smirk on his face.
“There’s nothing wrong with my ballocks,” Cullen said when Millie went to lift his kilt.
“Make sure she sees your lips move when ye say that,” Mairi said. “She doesn’t hear.”
Cullen tapped her arm until she looked at him. “My ballocks are quite fine, thank ye. No need for fixing them.” He looked at Tor. “That’s not something I say every day.”
Kenneth chuckled from the doorway. “I’ve got the men lined up out here in order of the most serious to Thomas, who has one hell of a splinter in his thumb. And the smithy dropped off the iron splints.” He propped two long shafts inside.
Alec retrieved a needle and thread from the table and handed it to Mairi. “For your brother.” His frown mellowed into a neutral line, but his eyes glinted with anger.
Mairi pushed Tor into a seat and washed the slash on his forehead with fresh well water. The ends of his flesh, still raw, gaped. Alec handed him a whisky, which Tor threw back as Mairi walked from the hearth with a heated needle. She made quick work, knowing that even her tough brother could withstand only so much pain. Alec handed him a second whisky when she tied off the thread. He gulped it down.
“’Twill give ye a roguish look,” Mairi said. “Ava may like it.”
Tor gave a satisfied snort and leaned back against the edge of the table. He crossed his ankles before him. “Aye, she does like a bit of wickedness and chase.”
Mairi scrunched her nose at him. “Please brother, no more details.”
Tor looked at Cullen and then Alec. “We will stay here until Geoff brings his ship around. In fact, with your priest here, we can finish what was rightfully started back on Kilchoan.”
Mairi tensed. “What?”
Tor’s mouth relaxed into a grin as he stared at Alec. “I’ve heard that Kisimul has a chapel, and we have a priest. I say we have a wedding.”
Father Lassiter’s eyes opened wide. “A wedding? It could be a blessing for this cursed castle.”
“Kisimul is not cursed,” Alec said, his face hard as he stared at Mairi’s grinning brother like he was deciding which limb to tear off first.
“Or ye could wed outside,” Tor said. “In the bailey.”
The priest looked expectantly between them all. He finally rested on Alec. “If the lass here is wedding Geoff MacInnes, ye can wed Bessy Cameron.”
“Who is Bessy Cameron?” Broc asked, looking around the room as he walked in to be tended.
Alec barely opened his mouth as he ground out his words. “I am not wedding Bessy Cameron.”
“Is she the pretty mouse who’s been scurrying in and out of here?” Cullen asked.
“She’s been through a lot,” Mairi said, frowning at Cullen.
Tor planted his feet on the floor with a thud and propped his hands on his knees. “When the heart decides who it wants, it can be a mouse or even a French woman.”
“Or an English maid,” Cullen returned with a pointed look at Tor.
“I am not marrying Bessy Cameron,” Alec repeated, though neither of them looked at him.
“I would love Ava, sitting in slop, over a princess any day,” Tor said, shrugging. “If he wants to wed a mouse, so be it.” He stood, gesturing toward the priest. “Father, shall we go see about setting things up while Mairi tends these warriors?”
“Bloody, blazing hell,” Alec swore. “I said, I am not wedding Bessy Cameron.” His voice boomed loud enough to bring Geri and Freki running in from the crowded bailey. Growling, they turned to flank Alec.
Father Lassiter leaped back. “God’s teeth,” he cursed. He frowned and passed the sign of the cross before him, his eyes shifting to Alec. “Since I came all the way over here and can’t deliver last rites to anyone,” he said, glaring toward Ian, “I would like to wed someone. Now who will that be?”
Tor smiled wickedly. “Geoff and Mairi, once he brings the ship around.”
Ooh, Mairi wanted to kick Tor. She glanced toward Alec who kept his face lethally neutral. The man had asked her to marry him the other night. Was the request just a response to their time under the stars on the knoll?
A pinch of worry sprouted anger inside Mairi. “This is no time to think of weddings when there are men to heal and a possible killer on Barra.” She shook her head as she looked down at the poultice she was spreading for Millie to use. “Honestly, Tor, I thought ye could hold your whisky better than that.”
“Ah, your brother deserves to loosen up, Mairi, what with worrying over ye these weeks.” Broc grinned as he stood up to be inspected by the efficient Millie. His smile turned, though, when the old woman yanked up the back of his kilt, looking for injuries. “Just my legs,” he said, turning quickly to pull the plaid from her hands.
Alec uncrossed his arms. “I can help,” he said, walking closer to Mairi. He leaned forward to pick up one of the vials, which Millie immediately took out of his hand and set back down with a small frown. Just the closeness of him made Mairi’s stomach untwist and her cheeks warm.
Tor stood in the doorway, watching them. “MacNeil, we will talk now. Chief to chief.” The seriousness of his tone made Mairi stiffen.
Alec looked to her brother. “Now ye wish to talk.”
“Once all this talking is done, if someone wants to marry, I’ll be in the chapel,” Father Lassiter grumbled and walked out.
“This way,” Alec said.
Tor held up his hand when Cullen made to follow. “It’s more of a brother to bastard-who-stole-my-sister kind of talk,” Tor said.
Alec snorted as if he were ready for anything that involved swords and daggers.
“Tor,” Mairi said. “I just stitched ye up.”
“Ye were the one who said we should talk instead of battle.” Tor kissed the top of her head as he walked past.
Alec turned, his gaze resting on Mairi one more time before he headed up the stairs.
…
Alec’s instincts yelled to prepare for a fight. His discipline kept him moving sedately forward across the wall walk that encircled Kisimul. He led Tor to the far end where he could see out toward the mainland. He turned, his hand ready to pull his sword or his dirk. Tor already had his out, but Alec wasn’t going to take the bait. “What shall we talk about?” Alec asked, his tone bored.
Tor’s fierce expression was a return of the look he’d given Alec when he’d told him Mairi’s location. Tor spit on the stone. “What the bloody hell did ye do to my sister?”
“Nothing against her will, Maclean,” Alec answered.
Tor stared hard at him, his lips curving in like he ate something sour. “Mo chreach,” he cursed and lowered his sword. He sheathed it. “Are ye going to marry her?”
Alec inhaled, focusing on the thin line of the horizon where a gray sky met a gray sea. “I already asked her.”
“What did she say?” Tor stepped over to the same wall.
“Nothing.”
“Then what did she do?”
Alec glanced at Tor. “She locked herself back into the dungeon.”
Tor scratched his beard. “That doesn’t sound promising. Though, I was sure—”
“Sure?” Alec asked, cutting him off.
Tor crossed his arms. “The way she’s acting.” He scratched his chin. “Her eyes follow ye about the room, and when Cullen took his shirt off, she barely looked.”
Alec’s fists clenched along with his jaw. “She usually looks at Duffie?”
“Oh, she’s followed after him since she was small, like most of the other lasses, but she barely reacted to him down there. Makes me think her fondness has turned to someone else.”
“Duffie’s married now,” Alec said.
“He was married a month ago when I caught Mairi spying on him bathing in the river at Aros.”
Alec’s teeth slid against one another as if he wanted to tear into Duffie’s throat. He turned back to stare at the sea. “She already agreed to marry Geoff MacInnes to form an alliance for Aros,” Alec said, steering them back to a topic that was less likely to make him slaughter a man today.
Tor cursed low. “I told her she didn’t have to worry about an alliance with the MacInnes. I’d have her choose someone else.”
Alec stared at Tor. “Ye’ve arranged to have them wed as soon as he arrives at Kisimul.”
Tor grinned. “Ye may not have noticed, but my sister is a stubborn woman.”
Alec would have laughed if bloodlust wasn’t still pumping through his body. “Aye.”
“I originally told her not to accept Geoff’s offer to wed,” Tor said. “She, of course, accepted, because she tends to do exactly what I tell her not to do, if she thinks it is right. I even convinced Geoff to send a pretty rogue to kiss her before the wedding, to tempt her into calling it off. When Mairi didn’t arrive at the chapel, for a good half hour I thought perhaps she’d run away with him. Until we found the pretty rogue tied to a tree and tracks leading to the shore.” Leaning back against the wall, Tor studied Alec.
“Ye suggested she marry MacInnes below, just now, to make her refuse?” Alec asked. Mairi’s family was cunning or insane. He hadn’t decided which.
Tor shrugged. “I wanted to see what she’d do. She got mad, which is typical, but then…” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “Then her cheeks turned rosy when ye came over to her.”
“They did?”
“Aye, and that’s when I knew for sure that she likes ye.”
“She does?” Alec asked, uncrossing his arms.
“My sister doesn’t blush even when she delivers a litany of curses before a priest, MacNeil.”
Alec inhaled, and the air felt fresh with the droplets of mist coming in and something else. For the first time in days, since the night she’d turned away from him at Angus’s accusation, Alec felt hope.
“So,” Tor said. “What are ye going to do?”
Alec glanced at Mairi’s brother, a wicked grin turning up his mouth. “Something her brother might not want to hear about.”