Red, like it was covered in blood, though I knew that it was clean.
“That…wasn’t Ivor’s dagger,” Eithne said, the horrible realization hitting her like a thunderbolt. “Did Rory place ye here to get ye close to Myrna? Did he—”
“Nay,” Jonah said. The hardness left his eyes for just a second as he glanced at Myrna. “That part…that was never part of the plan.”
Myrna sniffed, curling up closer to Eithne, moving away from the man who had no doubt just shattered her heart. How could she believe him?
Pain flashed in Jonah’s eyes; then he turned back to Eithne. “Nae Ivor’s dagger? Who’s was it then?”
“I ken ye’re a smart lad, Jonah,” Eithne said, trying to keep the shake out of her voice. “Who would benefit from yer faither’s death? Who would gain anything by leading ye to believe Ivor killed him? Who would lie about me because I’m what he wants to possess?”
She saw it then, as the truth hit the unfortunate young man in an almost physical wave of power. Self-doubt flashed across his face. “MacDuff…” he said.
“Ivor didnae kill yer faither, Jonah. I swear that on me sister’s life,” Eithne said firmly. “Whatever Rory MacDuff told ye, it was a lie to pull ye to his side. Ye’ve been manipulated.”
“Jonah, please believe her,” Myrna whispered. She was crying, but her voice was steady. “I ken ye’re a good man. I love ye because ye’re a good man. Dinnae be fooled by evil.”
Jonah looked troubled. “I…I…”
And that was when the tapestry behind him burst open. Behind it was a door that Eithne had never seen before – and suddenly, a parade of soldiers was there, grabbing both girls by the arms.
“Time to go, Lady MacDuff,” one of the men whispered in her ear. She recognized that voice.
Walter? It cannae be…
“Nay!” Myrna screamed.
Eithne kicked out, trying to get them to leave her alone, to leave her sister alone. Jonah stumbled forward, but one of the soldiers grabbed his arm, pulling him back.
Then, suddenly, cold steel was at her throat. She looked over at Myrna and saw a knife held there, as well.
“Move,” Walter said – her own cousin – and I’ll slice this through yer throat, and yer sister will get worse.”
Eithne stared, horrified, and then let herself go limp.
It was like when she’d been trapped in Killian’s room, only worse, as these men – these monsters – dragged her to the dungeons. Because this time, there was no Ivor. This time there was no escape.
This time, she would die, one way or another.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The Passage
Ivor recognized Castle MacDonnell long before they reached it. It felt like he’d barely left, now here he was again. This time, though, he was approaching not as a guest but as a shadow. He sneaked behind the group of men who were now undoubtedly aiming for the castle, for Eithne, cursing himself for his ultimate stupidity in leaving her alone.
I kent MacDuff was still out there. I kent he wouldnae just give up.
But on the other hand, who could have guessed that the Laird’s own son would be involved in the plot? Who could have assumed that he would help the enemy? Ivor had had a sick feeling in his gut since he’d recognized Walter, and it didn’t feel like it was going to lift any time soon.
What if the Laird is involved too?
But no. That was madness. Laird MacDonnell was tough, but he’d never betray his sister’s daughters. Would he? Not that it mattered. If his son was involved, perhaps it was a coup. This was the younger son, after all. Maybe he’d gone to Rory, offered a deal in order to bargain for the heirship from his father.
Ivor shook his head. He would never understand powerful men. He could never understand how someone could openly – willingly – turn on those who loved them.
The men reached the castle, Ivor as close behind as he could be, while still being sure that he wouldn’t be captured immediately. He frowned as they approached the front door and then moved away from it. They didn’t even try the gate, not by force or even by virtue of their traitorous leader. Instead, they moved off to the side.
Well, as I learned from Eithne, all these old keeps have secret passages.
