Silence, broken only by Alasdair’s hacking cough and the sound of Kyle giving orders, told Jamie the fighting was over.
“Jamie.” Kyle’s voice sounded suddenly close, at the open door.
Jamie could only imagine what he thought of the scene they set.
“Bind the survivors, take them to their horses, and get ready to travel,” Jamie ordered without taking his gaze off his prisoner. “Leave Caitrin with me. This won’t take long.” He heard Kyle move away and nudged the man sprawled at his feet. “Talk, MacGregor. For yer life, or yer last few miserable minutes of it.” He should have ordered Kyle to tend to Caitrin, but he would do that himself, in moments. He couldn’t bear the thought of another man touching her, especially not where Alasdair had cut her.
“Why….why should I tell ye…anything.”
“Because I’ll kill ye where ye are unless ye do.” Jamie heard the men moving off into the woods, but he kept his focus on MacGregor.
“Ye will, anyway.”
“Aye, I will. So live a few minutes more and explain yerself.”
“Explain myself?” MacGregor’s coughing fit had ceased and he straightened up. He glanced past Jamie’s legs.
Jamie saw the defiance in his eyes as he beheld his men, dead or under Lathan control. He would get no help there.
MacGregor shrugged. “Explain what my father used to do to me, his useless spare of a spare of a spare? He wouldna touch his heir, or the spare, but me, ach, aye. To this day, I dinna think my mother kent the kind of man she married. She would no’ have approved.”
“Did ye start with the tavern whores in St. Andrews, or were there others before them?”
“I remember them well. I watched what my da and uncle did to yer sister. They were so much alike, the Twins. Especially in how they enjoyed their perversions. I had plenty of time to learn from them that day, and others. Ye didna ken who to suspect, did ye? Surely no’ yer auld schoolmate.”
Jamie shuddered, fighting to let Alasdair live long enough to tell all he knew.
“I dinna ken why yer sister was in the woods by herself. Meeting a lover, perhaps?” MacGregor chuckled and coughed. “She was too sweet for a man of my laird’s…taste…to pass by.”
Jamie’s stomach turned. He knew exactly why his sister had been alone, away from the keep. Their father had told her of his plans to marry her to a man she didn’t like. Jamie knew she loved someone else, but not who. He’d seen her leaving the keep and run after her, hoping to discover who she was meeting. Much as Caitrin used to run after Toran and him. Netta had seen him, run faster, and hidden in the forest. He’d looked for her, but eventually had given up and gone back to the Aerie as darkness fell, thinking she must have returned home already. He’d never seen her again. But years later, he’d heard how she’d been found, and what was done to her.
What Alasdair MacGregor had begun to do to Caitrin. And worse.
“So they tortured her,” Jamie ground out. “Raped her. Then killed her.”
“I suppose they couldna let her return to tell her da who had done those things to her. She was ruined for another man, anyway. ’Twas kinder to cut her throat.”
Caitrin’s sob kept Jamie from doing the same to MacGregor. But still he could not face her. He kept his gaze on the man on the floor at his feet instead. “And when ye came to St. Andrews, ye began to practice what ye learnt.”
“Ah…the lasses in the pubs. Aye, they thought to make a day’s wage or more off me—a wealthy student. They looked down on us, ye ken. Those whores looked down on the students who drank their ale and paid for their favors. So I paid them good coin to let me do whatever I wished.” MacGregor chuckled and Jamie nearly went for him. “Some got more than they bargained for, but if they started screaming, really, what did they think I would do?”
“Why were ye never caught? Any of the ones who lived could have identified ye.”
“I told them I’d kill them, slowly, of course. And if I wasna around to do it, I had friends who liked to do the same things I did. They’d never ken which of their trysts would end them. No’ true, but they didna ken that. Either way, they thought they’d end up dead unless they stayed quiet. So they did.”
“Ye will hang for this.”
“Nay, I dinna think so. A laird’s word against yers?”
“And mine.” Caitrin’s voice at his side startled Jamie. He’d been so focused on MacGregor, he’d never heard her get to her feet and move toward him. He turned to her. It was a mistake.
Alasdair MacGregor reached out, grabbed the comb from the floor, then broke it in two as he leapt to his feet. He charged at Caitrin before Jamie could react and step between them. Like the wildcat that had attacked her in the dark forest, he went for her throat, slashing with a piece of the comb in each hand. She blocked his attack with her arms, snagging the teeth of the comb in her sleeves. He knocked her down and fell on her, wrapping his hands around her throat.
Jamie grabbed MacGregor by the hair, hauled him off Caitrin, and then slammed his head into the wall, stunning him. He fell to his knees by Caitrin, where she lay, pale and panting.
“Lass! Caitrin…”
“He didna cut me…dinna let him…”
