To Steal a Highlander's Heart (15 page)

Margot
pushed to standing and lifted a pot from the table. She carried it over to the
pile of rushes and poured the contents over them. Alana sniffed. Oil. Bile scorched
her throat. Margot planned to burn the keep. With her in it probably. She fought
to sit up, her arms aching as she forced herself upright.

"Pray,
Margot, dinnae do this." Alana tried to keep her voice strong, only the
faintest hint of her fear invading it.

"I
do, Alana. Morgann and ye are the only ones standing between me and everything
I've ever wanted. Once I marry yer father, I'll bring my land to the marriage
contract and the rest of the MacRaes will have to bow to our power."

"My
da will never marry ye after this!"

"Aye,
he will. Just as we planned. Yer death will be some tragic accident." Margot
released a dramatic sigh. "And Morgann's father will never recover from
his son's death. I fear the heartbreak will mean the end for him."

"Ye'll
not succeed." Alana strained against her bonds. She couldn't let Morgann
walk into this, she just couldn't. "Morgann will defeat ye easily. Yer
greed as got the better of ye. Just leave while ye can."

Pray,
pray leave.
The
thought of burning to death was bad enough but knowing Morgann was going to
walk into a trap near killed her. Her heart hurt. But Morgann was strong and
clever. She just prayed Margot would not succeed with whatever she had planned
for him.

"Ye
dinnae understand, do ye? 'Tis well enough for ye, the pampered daughter of a
laird. Ye've got everything. Power, family, love. I have naught."

"Ye
have family. The MacRaes took ye in. Ye have love!"

"Ach,
from an aged man who loves me for naught more than my body and looks."

"My
father willnae love ye. He would never love another after my mother."

Margot
sniffed as she stepped closer, the oil carrier swinging from one hand. "I
care not now." She stopped in front of Alana and tilted the pot. Alana
squealed and scrabbled away as sticky oil trickled over her chemise. Margot
laughed. "Funny, Morgann wanted to burn me as a witch but now I'll be
burning the both of ye. Fitting, dinnae ye think? My mother was accused of
being a witch ye know? Forced out of society. We lived on naught. My mother
died a lonely, horrible death. So ye see, Alana, ye'll never understand."

With
a gulp, Alana studied the woman as wild delight grew visible in her eyes.
"I-I am sorry for what happened to ye," she whispered. "But none
of this will bring back yer mother."

Margot
laughed. "Nay, nay it won't. But I'll still enjoy it nonetheless."

The
woman's excitement sent a rush of anger through her. She'd already tried to
kill her once and now she wanted to kill Morgann too. She wouldn't let herself
be used to trap him. Jaw set, Alana shook her head. "Yer a coward, Margot.
Poison, fires. Ye cannae even bring yerself to kill me." Eyes narrow, Margot
backhanded her, hitting her to the floor. Her cheek burned but Alana couldn't
prevent the smug smile that crept across her face. "Coward," she
repeated quietly.

Spinning,
Margot snatched an eating knife from the table and held it out. The tip wavered
as it danced in front of Alana. Unable to keep her gaze from the blade, Alana
gulped.
Mayhap that wasn't such a good idea.

That
familiar chill raced up Morgann's spine as something clenched at his heart.
That sensation that seemed to link him to Alana. The one that told him she was
in trouble. He squeezed the reins. He saw the abandoned cottage ahead, the roof
now a skeleton of wooden beams, its walls crumbling. Sat in the middle of the
valley on the crest of a hill, it was exposed to the elements. The tugging on
his heart grew urgent, almost painful, making his stomach churn. Should he
continue on or turn back?

He
couldn't see how Alana would be in trouble unless she'd done something foolish
again. Mayhap she had made another rash attempt at an escape. He shook his
head. Nay, a more content lass he'd never seen. There was no way she'd leave
him now. Not after she'd declared her love for him.

The
warm sensation as he recalled her sweet words failed to remove the unease from
his body and he urged Caraid on. He just had to check the cottage. Just had to
be sure Margot wasn't hiding there. It was said the hut once belonged to a witch.
He snorted. What could be more fitting? Anyway, how much trouble could Alana really
get into in the Old Castle?

Morgann
pulled the horse to a stop and leaped from the saddle. The wooden door of the
cottage still stood and he shoved it open, leaving it swinging awkwardly on one
hinge.

Damnation.
Empty.

Either
Margot had already left or he'd been sent on a fool’s errand.

"Hell's
teeth!"

Racing
back to his mare, he mounted and forced her into a gallop.
Idiot. Ye've been
bloody tricked
. The leather reins grew slick in his hands as he pushed
Caraid faster. He'd left Alana alone and ignored his gut. Could there be any
greater fool? He only prayed he reached her in time. He'd bet all his land Margot
was with her. Hopefully Alana would put up a fight. Hopefully she wasn't dead already.

His
heart felt like it had shrivelled at the thought. Instead of succumbing to
despair, he allowed the boiling heat of anger to consume him. If she'd harmed
her, by God...

Besides
he was sure he'd know if Alana was dead. That strange connection they had would
have told him, just like when the poison claimed her life.

The
Old Castle came into view, the morning sun glinting over the top and forcing
him to squint. Instead of seeming like a haven, the dark stone sent a dart of
dread skittering through him. He studied the landscape but saw no sign of a
horse. The muscles in his arms bunched. That didn't mean anything. Margot
hadn't taken any mounts from Glencolum so she was likely on foot. He dismounted
outside the crumbled walls and hooked Caraid’s reins over a jutting piece of stone.
He crouched low, easing his way around the walls until he came to the steps. Stealing
another glance around, he crept up the steps and sucked in a breath as he drew
his sword. A silent entry was impossible with the ancient oak door so he shoved
it open quickly, blade out in front. His knees almost buckled as he spied
Alana. Prone on the floor, hands and feet secured with rope, she released a
muffled squeal through the material tied across her mouth as she spotted him.
One cheek was red, her chemise filthy and tears filled her eyes.

Morgann
barely noticed when Margot sprung from the shadows, a dagger held in one hand
and a flaming torch in the other. He sniffed, the smell of oil strong in the
air. A deep, agonising sickness pervaded through him as Margot grinned, torch
held aloft.

"At
last," she said. "We've been waiting quite some time, haven't we,
Alana? I thought mayhap ye'd abandoned the woman ye love. A change of heart perhaps.
But obviously not. Now if ye just lay down yer sword, we can get this over and
done with."

He
flexed his hand on the hilt. "Aye, ye come over here and I'll make it
quick," he snarled.

"I
wouldnae or she," she tilted her head toward Alana, "will go up in flames."
She waved the torch around and Morgann's heart skipped as fire dripped and
fizzled out on the wooden floor, too close to Alana's skirt for his liking.

"Nay!"
He breathed deeply through his nostrils and eased the sword to the ground.

Alana
released a muffled sound of protest but he ignored her, keeping his wary gaze
on Margot.

"I
thank ye, Morgann," she purred as she edged around him. "Now step
over there." She motioned to the other side of the room with the dagger.

Morgann
circled round, gaze darting between Alana and the flame. The heavy thump of his
heart smacked against his ribs as the space between him and Alana increased. He
longed to run to her, to drag her away from his vile stepmother but the fire
dancing dangerously near to her thin shift prevented him. If he wasn’t
mistaken, oil stained the linen.

By
God, Margot was out of her wits. Even though he’d known for a long time just
how black her heart was, he could barely comprehend her wanting to burn Alana.
The woman had always kept her distance from her misdeeds but it seemed she was
ready to end it all by her own hand.

He
swallowed heavily as his back bumped into the wall. This time she held the lass
he loved hostage. A bitter tang filled his mouth. He couldn’t lose her. Not like
this. Alana was to die in his arms of old age, preferably together.

Margot
pressed the dagger onto the table and reached for Alana, keeping a close eye on
him and Morgann tensed his body, ready to snatch Alana from her at any moment.

“I
thank ye, Morgann, for making this so easy on me. A few sweet words whispered
in an ear and ‘twas simple to find out where ye were. And then ye even
abandoned poor Alana here to fend for herself.”

Hauling
Alana to her feet, Margot kept the torch dangerously close, the threat of the
flame remaining as she crept toward the door. With her feet bound, Alana had to
shuffle to stay upright while keeping herself from falling into the burning torch.

Alana’s
eyes were wide, fearful, and they clutched at his heart as he tried to
communicate a secret promise to her. One that said he’d never let her come to
harm, that he’d always protect her, that he’d die before letting her get hurt.
He only hoped she understood how vital it was to him that she lived. For the
first time in a long time, nothing else mattered. His lands, his family, his
father… they were all inconsequential as long as Alana survived.

“Dinnae
move,” Margot warned as his feet twitched with the desire to lunge for his
stepmother and wring her neck. “I’ll put a torch to her, just ye see.”

Margot
inched open the door with her foot and pressed through the gap. Before her head
disappeared behind the oak, she shoved Alana forward and flung the torch onto
the rushes piled in front of the entrance. The door slammed shut as Alana
sprawled to the floor and a blaze raced across the straw. Morgann jumped into
action, snatching Alana away from the increasing flames and dragging her to her
feet.

Assured
she wouldn’t fall over, he stomped on the growing blaze but they already
consumed the oil soaked floorboards in a crackling, spitting mass of orange. He
threw a desperate glance at Alana as the fire crawled up the door and blocked
their exit.

The
room filled with smoke. If the fire ate through the floor before they choked to
death, they’d fall through to the basement and probably be buried alive. He
snatched the abandoned knife and pushed Alana further back from the inferno.
Her gaze remained on him, fearful, tear-laden as he sliced through her bonds, before
kneeling and cutting through the ones around her legs. When he came to
standing, he carefully untied the rag in her mouth. She remained quiet as the
wooden floor popped and hissed. Each noise made her jump.

The
agony tearing at his chest made his hands shake as he threw aside the gag and
rubbed at the red marks it had left. Grease covered her shift and a bruise
bloomed on one cheek. Her hair was mussed and dark circles rimmed her eyes. He
swiped his thumb under her chin and gave her a half-smile. Morgann had never
seen anything so beautiful.

“Ye
shouldnae have come,” she said as she wrapped her arms around him.

Closing
his arms about her, he tucked Alana against him. He found himself surprisingly
calm. He just needed to find a way for Alana to get out and all would be well.
Everything moved slowly as the smoke swirled around them. The blaze completely
covered the front door now and worked its way around the hall. The table would
catch alight at any moment so he shifted Alana, arms still tightly around her,
to the back chamber. There were no rear doors, no ramparts to escape to. This
was a building intended as a home, not a fortress but the windows… He studied
one. Aye, that could work.

“I
wouldnae leave ye,
mo chridhe
, but ye have to leave me.”

Her
brow creased. “What is yer meaning?”

“The
window.” He nodded toward it. “‘Tis wide enough for ye. I’ll drop ye down and
ye shouldnae hurt yerself. We’re not that far up.”

Alana
blinked and stared at the window. “But… but ye’ll no’ fit through…” She shook
her head furiously as she turned to him. “Nay. Nay, I’ll not go.”

“All
will be well, I swear it. But ye must go, Alana. I’ll find a way out myself.”

A
crack resounded through the hall, the sound of floorboards splitting and she
flinched in his hold. Morgann urged her to the window as she clung to him and
he carefully but firmly prized her arms away. "Go now,
m'eudail
, I
willnae be long. I cannae find a way out if I'm worrying about ye now, can
I?"

Alana
released a tiny sob and swiped at her eyes. "Promise me ye'll no' leave me
alone."

His
throat felt tight and he didn’t know if the moisture in his eyes was from the
smoke or the thought of not holding her again. But he made the promise anyway.
He would lie again and again if it meant she'd be safe. "I promise."

The
prickling heat ate its way through the keep, the glow increasing as it consumed
every fragment of wood in the building. By his reckoning, the floors would go
first, then the wooden rafters holding up the roof. The castle didn't have
long.

Cupping
Alana's chin, he claimed a quick but powerful kiss from her. She trembled but
Morgann knew she was holding back her fear, brave lass that she was. Ach, if he
could only spend a little more time kissing her. But time he did not have.

He
set her away decisively, deliberately schooling his expression. He refused to
let her see how much the thought of leaving her was killing him. Each thud of
his heart seemed to pound in protest. "Climb onto the windowsill and swing
yer legs out. I'll lower ye down."

She
didn't respond but did as he said, much to his relief. It was tight but she
just managed to squeeze through at an angle and sit on the ledge. He grabbed
her hands, pressed a kiss to each one. "I love ye," he murmured.
"Now shuffle forward." Wriggling, she moved until perched right on
the edge. He bunched his muscles. "Bend yer knees when ye land and ye'll
be fine."

"I
dinnae... Morgann, I—"

Before
she could argue, he lowered her as far as possible. His shoulders wouldn't fit
through the gap so he couldn't even see her as he did. She squealed and gripped
him tight. With a sharp inhale, he released her. Her grip on him didn't last
and he felt her go, listened for the thud as she landed but the sound of the
raging fire meant he heard nothing. He only hoped she hadn't hurt herself.

Scrubbing
a hand over his face, he turned from the window and stared at the door to the
chambers. Flames licked at it. Aye, not much time at all. He studied the room,
wracking his mind. He didn't want to leave her. He desperately wanted to keep
his promise but it was hopeless.

He
grinned as he slumped to the floor. At least Alana was safe.

***

Dirt
bit into her hands as she landed and her feet stung with the impact but Alana
was surprised she hadn't hurt anything else. She remained crumpled for a
moment, her cheek pressed into the ground as the nausea in her stomach sapped
her strength. She raised her gaze to the Old Castle. Smoke poured from the
front windows and the main door had almost completely gone. Sitting, she took a
steadying breath. Mayhap Morgann could get back through the hall and escape. A
crash made her jump to her feet and she stumbled away to get a better view. A
hand to her mouth, she gaped as fire danced out the top of the building.

The
roof had fallen in.

Tears
clouded her vision. Damn the man. He'd known he'd never get out alive. How could
he leave her on her own? How could he promise her that all would be well?

A
movement caught her eye and she turned toward the loch.

Margot.

Seething
rage made her skin hot as saw the woman, a wild smile on her face as she
watched the keep crumble. The witch who had taken so much from her was now
enjoying the sight of Morgann burning to death. Alana curled her hand into a
fist until her nails bit into her palm and a wild cry tore from her as she
raced toward her.

Margot
only spotted her at the last moment as Alana barrelled into her. The woman
screamed and Alana knocked her down and snatched at her hair. She smacked a fist
into her cheek as Margot tried to fend her off. She scratched at Alana's face,
wriggling and clawing at her as they rolled to the water’s edge.