Page 15 of McKenna’s Honor (The Clan MacDougall #4)

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“ I ’m going to kill her,” Nial ground out. “I’m going to kill her!” The vein in his forehead pulsed with each furious beat of his heart. His face was red with anger that bordered on unadulterated rage.

Caelen grabbed the halter of Nial’s horse and stopped him from doing just that. “Wait!” Caelen whispered hoarsely.

Nial shot him an exasperated look. “Let go of me horse, Caelen McDunnah. I’ve no wish to kill a friend this day.”

A roguish grin formed on Caelen’s lips. “Funny, I was just thinkin’ the same thing.”

Nial’s jaw clenched as he glared furiously at Caelen and wondered what his friend could possibly be thinking by trying to stop him.

Rowan and Findley stood between the men and watched. Rowan found himself thanking the Good Lord for giving him a quiet wife who never gave him a moment’s trouble. Worry, yes, but the kind of trouble Bree gave Nial? Never.

Findley was just as angry as Nial at what he had just witnessed. Inwardly, he felt more than a swell of pride at how well his sons had handled themselves against the guards, though he’d never admit as much to any of them.

He also knew that more likely than not, his hardheaded wife had planned the entire thing. He supposed the only reason he hadn’t seen her was that she had stayed back at their keep to take care of their daughters. Her absence also afforded her some plausible deniability.

But Findley knew the entire attack had his wife’s name written all over it. As soon as he returned home, he was going to have a very long talk with his beautiful wife. It was in her favor that it would be days before he could do just that. Mayhap by the time he saw her next, he wouldn’t be angry enough to turn her over his knee.

“Listen to me, Nial,” Caelen said firmly.

“I’ll listen to ye after I stop my foolish wife.”

After they had gotten nowhere with Phillip Lindsay or with anyone else in Edinburgh, they had decided to go to Stirling. They also decided that mayhap twenty-five mounted guards might not be enough to protect Angus and Duncan.

It was certainly plausible that whoever had put Angus and Duncan in jail might want to ensure that they did in fact die, either by hanging or by attacking the caravan on its way to Stirling. Dead men could not speak, nor could they point accusing fingers.

If Caelen’s gut was correct, there were reasons why Angus had admitted guilt and they had nothing to do with the man actually being guilty. So they set out to follow the wagon, keeping at a safe distance. They stayed far enough away so as not to be seen yet close enough that they could react to any potential attack.

The thought that anyone would attack to free the two men had never entered any of their minds.

“This may work in Angus’ favor, Nial,” Caelen explained. “If we can keep their necks out of the hangman’s noose, it might give us time to find out the truth behind all of this. It might also give us time to find Isobel and Aishlinn.”

The bulging vein in Nial’s head continued to throb rapidly while he weighed Caelen’s argument.

“Ye can paddle yer wife’s bottom after we find out the truth,” Caelen offered with a grin.

Nial took in a deep breath and let it out very slowly. He knew all too well how stubborn his wife could be. He also knew how smart she was.

But this? Attacking royal guards? Leaving them stripped naked along the road? Stealing the wagon and driving it off like the devil was chasing them? Nay, this was beyond anything he could ever have imagined her doing.

Lady Arline Lindsay had done exceedingly well at keeping her word not to be a bother to the MacDougall men. In turn, they had shown her nothing but kindness, offering her words of encouragement as they raced along the country toward Stirling. A few had even gone so far as to offer to let her sleep atop their laps. Graciously, she had refused them.

She did not want to take her newfound courage too far. She was, after all, a lady in all respects and she had a husband waiting for her at home. And considering the circumstances they were traveling under, she did not want to sully the reputation of Clan Lindsay.

“Are ye sure ye do no’ need to rest, my lady?” Ronald asked as they made their way across a wide valley.

Arline smiled politely as she answered. “Nay, Ronald, but I do thank ye kindly.”

It was difficult to embrace the reality that she was on her way to Stirling. No matter how tired, wet, sore or hungry she became, she refused to give in to the temptation of resting. Too many people, too many lives depended on her making it to Stirling. Time was of the essence.

It was unsettling to think that only the day before, she thought of herself as nothing more than her husband’s caregiver. Nothing lay in her future other than waiting for Carlich to die. It wasn’t as if she wished he would hurry up and be done with it. On the contrary, the longer her husband lived the more time she spent away from her father.

Her father was not particularly mean to her. He’d rarely ever raised a hand to her in anger, save for when she was a small child. He saw that she was properly educated and had the proper clothes as well as a roof over her head. For that, she would always be grateful to him for she knew her life could have been drastically different. She could have ended up living in abject poverty like her half-sisters. Arline knew that were it not for her sneaking them every spare coin that she could, Morralyn and Geraldine would have ended up as bar wenches or worse yet, working in some squalid brothel somewhere in Inverness.

Orthanach had never publicly -- nor privately for that matter -- recognized the daughters who were born to two different women and on the wrong side of the blanket. Shamefully, he had used women without any thought as to what might happen should any of them bear him a child and then tossed them aside unceremoniously with no remorse or guilt. Arline knew exactly what he thought of the women he bedded for he had told her on more than one occasion. They were less simply because they’d been born that way.

Oh! How she wished Morralyn and Geraldine were here now! She resisted the urge to giggle at that thought. Morralyn would have been batting her eyelashes at every eligible man present. While Morralyn flirted, Geraldine would have observed quietly, hiding her smile behind her hands. And knowing the two of them as she did, they would have found trouble, or trouble would have found them.

The sound of Daniel’s voice broke her train of thought. Or was it David? The brothers looked so much alike that it was difficult to tell one from the other unless she was close enough to see their eyes. Daniel’s were blue, David’s green. “It will no’ be long now, my lady. We should reach Stirling before dawn.”

Dawn? How would one be able to tell dawn from dusk with the dark gray sky and rain? Quietly she wondered if she would not succumb to exhaustion and fall from her horse before the night was through. Not wanting to sound spoiled or ungrateful for their service, she remained mute and kept the thought to herself.

Arline glanced at the man riding next to her and saw his green eyes. “Thank you, David,” she said.

David gave her a thoughtful smile. “’Tis more than a good deed yer doin’ fer us, m’lady,” he said as his smile slowly faded away.

Arline had no response. She was not doing this to gain anyone’s favor or praise. This was the only right decision she could have made. Had she denied her husband’s request and lives were lost, there would have been no way she could have lived with herself. Guilt would have followed her all the rest of her days. Nay, this was the right thing to do.

Phillip Lindsay rarely, if ever, yelled. But yell he did when he learned that Angus and Duncan had escaped. If it had not been for his wife’s soothing voice and the pained expression on her face, he might very well have torn his study to shreds.

It had to be the MacDougalls who had perfected the escape. Phillip doubted anyone else had the ballocks to do such a thing. While he very well may have admired the fealty and loyalty the MacDougall clan felt toward their chief, he could not let them go unpunished.

In hindsight, he should have sent more than twenty-five guards to take the fools to Stirling. Shaking his head in dismay, Phillip realized he could have sent one thousand men and it would not have mattered. The MacDougall warriors would have found a way to rescue their chief. They were relentless bastards.

“Damn them all,” Phillip seethed as he paced around his office. His under-sheriff stood fearfully in front of Phillip’s desk. He dared not speak.

“And our men have turned up nothing? ” Phillip asked incredulously.

“Nay,” the under-sheriff answered with a slight tremor to his voice.

The guards had sat naked beside the road for hours before they were discovered. A dispatch had been sent to Stirling as well as to Edinburgh. Nearly a full day had passed by the time he had received the news.

“We’ve only just received this news. I’ve sent as many men as I could, some seventy men, sir, to search for them.”

Seventy or seven thousand, Phillip’s gut told him it would not matter. Knowing the MacDougalls as he did, they were long gone and had Angus and Duncan safely hidden. He wondered how Angus could have orchestrated the escape from his prison cell. Could one of the guards have been bribed to help effect the escape?

Angus was loved by more people than just his clansmen. There were many people who admired and respected the man. Phillip had no doubt that there were far more people who would not, could not believe the news that Angus was a confessed traitor. Few, if any, would turn away from the man, admitted traitor or not. How many would offer the men refuge? How many would open their doors to the two men?

The better question was how many would be willing to risk their own lives, or the lives of their families, for Angus’?

Though he did not like where his train of thought took him, Phillip was left with no other options. He stopped pacing and turned to his under- sheriff.

“Issue warrants for the MacDougall warriors,” he began as he went to his desk and began taking out his writing implements. “Spread word that anyone, and I do mean anyone who is found harboring Angus McKenna or Duncan McEwan will be hanged, along with their wives and their children.”

The under-sheriff stood with mouth agape and eyes wide. “But,” he began to speak. Phillip held him off with a wave of his hand.

“They are admitted traitors. Anyone who harbors them will be considered traitors to king and country, an act punishable by hanging. I’ll no’ argue this with ye. Mayhap people will no’ be so willing to help Angus and Duncan if they worry they’ll hang alongside them.”

Phillip could only hope he would not have to make good on his threat. He had no desire to hang anyone. He continued to scratch out warrants and missives while his under-sheriff stood solemnly and waited.

As soon as he was finished, he affixed his seal with red wax and handed the documents over. “Make sure word spreads quickly,” he told him. “And make certain no one doubts me word.”

The under-sheriff took the documents, gave a quick bow at his waist and quit the room. As soon as the man left, Phillip’s wife appeared before him.

“Certainly ye do no’ truly intend to hang women and children?” she asked as she stood in the doorway to his office.

He saw an expression on his wife’s face that he had never seen before. Shame.

Helena was his world. She and their babe were the only reason he climbed out of bed each morning. Without her, he was nothing but a body taking up space. She did not understand why he was doing what he was doing. He had kept his secrets hidden from her for a very long time. Not because he did not think her capable of understanding or because he worried she’d not be able to keep the secrets closely guarded. It was for her safety, and now, their babe’s that he held on to his secrets.

Guilt tugged at his heart. He could not live without her. He would not be able to live with himself if anything happened to her or their child. Phillip also knew that things would never be the same between them if he made good on his promise to hang anyone who offered aid to Angus and Duncan. He would never be able to look at her again if he knew she was ashamed of him.

Nay, he could not live with causing her any pain, nor could he abide it if she thought him a disgrace. This day was growing worse as the moments ticked by. Keep his wife in complete ignorance in order to keep her safe and risk earning her life-long disrespect and let her think him a disgrace. Or, tell her the truth and risk her death. Neither option was at all pleasing.

Despite his concerns, he decided it was time perhaps, to tell her the truth.

“Wife,” he said soberly. “We need to talk.”