Page 32

KERR STOOD AT Iver’s side on the steps of the barmkin, watching as Brodie and the Guards brought in those responsible for trying to burn Rose at the stake.

Father Gregor was among them.

Brodie walked behind the priest, looming over him like an angel of death. Indeed, the glower on the blacksmith’s face was dark enough that if looks could kill, Father Gregor would be writhing on the ground, gasping his last.

“I found him on his knees in the kirk, praying,” Brodie announced, placing a heavy hand on the priest’s shoulder so that they halted at the foot of the steps beneath the laird.

Kerr’s mouth thinned, and he clenched his hands at his sides. “Of course, ye did.”

“What were ye praying for, Father?” Iver asked.

Father Gregor raised his chin, his dark gaze spearing the chieftain. “For deliverance from evil, Mackay. We must cast out Satan’s disciples from our midst.”

“Aye, priest.” Iver slowly descended the steps toward the slender figure robed in black. Even brought before the laird like this, for inciting violence and attempted murder, Father Gregor stood proud. “I agree, wholly … which is why after I have ye flogged, I shall have ye run off my lands.”

One more step brought Iver up close to the priest, his fist driving hard into his guts.

Father Gregor gasped, sinking to his knees. “May the Lord forgive ye for striking a man of the cloth,” he choked.

“He won’t forgive me,” Iver replied, meeting the priest’s gaze.

“But he will thank me for unmasking the lowliest of men. Ye aren’t worthy of wearing that robe, priest .

I invited ye into this community and trusted ye with the souls of those living here.

” The laird’s voice sharpened further as he continued, “But in return, ye have sown fear and hate. Ye are a corruption, and if ye don’t wish me to draw my dirk and slit yer conniving throat, I suggest ye say nothing more. ”

Kerr watched his brother with grim satisfaction.

Father Gregor was a heartbeat away from dying—and he ached for the bastard to say something, anything, to damn himself.

But the priest realized the danger he was in, for he bent his head, breaking eye contact with Iver. His lean body trembled.

Brodie motioned to the group of men and women—ten of them—the guards had brought in with the priest. “What of the rest?”

“Their crimes cannot go unpunished either,” Iver rumbled. He glanced over at Kerr then, meeting his eye. “Who is the ringleader?”

“Maisie MacDonald … but she’s dead,” Kerr answered. He then nodded to the two men at the front of the group. “Dugan Mackay and Keith MacDonald were also in the thick of things. Like Maisie, they incited the others to violence.”

Both men stood there, heads held high, jaws set.

Heat washed over Kerr. Their arrogance was galling. Even now, they weren’t sorry—but they soon would be. Perhaps they didn’t know what the punishment was for attempted murder, but Kerr did.

It was fortunate indeed for Maisie that she’d died under the hooves of his courser.

“Then they will be hung from the walls this afternoon,” Iver announced after a brief pause. “And the others who took part will be left in the stocks in the village square for a week.”

Both Dugan and Keith gaped at this pronouncement.

“It was the priest’s fault,” Dugan spluttered, recovering first from the shock of hearing his neck was about to be stretched. His eyes were now wide and frightened. “He’s the one who told us to do it.”

“Aye, but he didn’t bind Rose MacAlister’s wrists and ankles and attempt to drown her … before dragging her to a pyre so he could set fire to her.”

“But he told us she was an evil witch who fornicated with the devil!” Keith protested. The lad had turned white.

“And ye were the witless worm who ate up his poison,” Kerr snarled, unable to keep his tongue leashed.

It was up to Iver to deal out punishment, yet these two sickened him, as did the rest of the group who whimpered and trembled behind Dugan and Keith.

“Ye were looking for a reason to turn on her, for ye wanted reckoning against her family, didn’t ye? ”

“Gregor will never don priest’s robes again, I shall see to it,” Iver said then, his voice growing harder still. “And before we run him out of Dun Ugadale, I shall flay the skin off his back.”

The priest made a choking sound at this, yet Iver ignored him. Instead, his attention remained on Duncan MacDonald’s youngest. “Justice is justice, Keith. Ye tried to murder a woman, and now ye will pay the price.”

Kerr stood on the walls, watching as a naked man, blood streaming down his back from lacerations, stumbled down the causeway and into the village below.

Villagers were waiting for him, armed with rotten food and turds. As he stumbled by, weeping piteously, they pelted him.

Kerr’s lip curled.

It was a nasty business, all of it. Yet it was necessary. Gregor had made it so.

Kerr turned from the wall, taking the steps down to the barmkin. A grisly sight awaited him there, for Dugan and Keith hung from the gate, their bodies swinging in the wind that barreled in from the sea this afternoon.

The clang of metal echoed through the barmkin from Brodie’s forge. Now that it was all over, his brother had gone back to work.

Leaving it behind as well, Kerr mounted the steps to the broch and went inside. The hall on the bottom level was empty, for it was still too early for supper. Iver had retired to his solar with Bonnie, yet Kerr wouldn’t join them.

There was someone else he needed to see.

They’d put Rose in Davina’s old room in the tower, just a floor above his own bedchamber. Eara had stayed with her for a spell, although Kerr had spied the lass returning to the village a short while earlier.

Taking the winding steps up to the landing, Kerr knocked gently on the door and waited.

A moment later, a woman’s voice, tired and brittle, answered. “Aye?”

“It’s me, Rose. Can I come in?”

“Kerr! Aye.”

He pushed the door open and stepped inside, his gaze going to where Rose sat propped up in bed. The bruise on her cheek was livid now, highlighting her pallor, but her eyes were warm as she looked upon him.

“I didn’t wake ye, did I?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I was planning on rising anyway … everyone keeps treating me like an invalid.”

He huffed a soft laugh, approaching the bed and perching on the edge next to her. “That’s because ye have had a terrible shock, lass.”

She sighed before reaching out and taking his hand. “Bonnie told me about the punishments Iver announced earlier … have they been carried out?”

He nodded. “Dugan and Keith are dead … and ye won’t ever set eyes on Father Gregor again.”

She swallowed, nodding.

Kerr’s chest constricted. “I’m so sorry, Rose,” he whispered.

“It’s not yer fault, my love,” she replied huskily. Her grip on his hand tightened. “All that matters is that I’m alive because of ye.”

My love.

His throat thickened. “I’ve heard rumors of people drowning or burning women they suspect of witchcraft,” he murmured, clearing his throat, “but I thought that happened in far-flung places … not here .”

Rose sighed. “So did I.”

Shifting closer to her, he placed his free hand on top of hers, clasping it tight. “I will never let anyone hurt ye again,” he said, his voice low and fierce. “I swear it. On my life.”

Rose stared up at him, her pine-green eyes glittering now as tears welled. “Ye are the best of men, Kerr,” she whispered. “And I can’t wait to be yer wife.”

Kerr squeezed her hand once more. His throat was now so tight, he couldn’t speak. Her words moved him deeply.

Their gazes held before a groove appeared between Rose’s eyebrows. “Will we have to delay things now?”

He shook his head. “Iver told me earlier that he will wed us tomorrow afternoon in the hall … if ye wish it,” he finally managed to croak.

Indeed, his brother had insisted there was no better way to wash away the stain that Father Gregor left behind than with a wedding.

Rose’s lovely face relaxed at this, her full mouth lifting at the corners.

Joy flowered in Kerr’s chest at the sight. After years of longing for Rose from afar, there was a secret, insecure part of him that wondered if he’d imagined all of this. Did she really want him as much as he did her?

But this was real, and he wouldn’t allow anyone to destroy the joy they’d found.

“Tomorrow it is,” Rose replied. She paused then, interlacing her fingers through his. “I’d like Kenna and Ailis to be at our wedding … and Eara too.”

Kerr nodded. “Of course.” Rose’s aunt would be worrying about what had befallen her niece. “I will send out men, first thing in the morning, to fetch them.”