Angus snatched his bonnet off his head. “Och, I’d forgotten ye were even here, mistress.” He turned to John. “Things are bad, there’s trouble. Take her and ride out, both of ye, now.”
Meggie crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not going anywhere without Fia! What’s going on? Where is she?”
“Meggie?” Fia came to the door of the stable. They all turned to look at her.
“Fia! Where have you been?” Meggie rushed to gather her sister in a hug, then pulled back to look at her. “What’s happened to your face? You’re cut, bruised—what did that madman do to you? Papa will tear him limb from limb, and—”
Fia held up a hand to stop her and John gaped at the raw marks on her wrist as Meggie screeched at the sight of those injuries too. “He tied you up?”
Angus grabbed Meggie’s arm. “’Twasn’t Dair! He’d never—achDhia,there’s no time to say more. You’ve got to go.” He looked at Fia. “The rain’s stopped. They’re coming—”
“Who? Coming for what?” Meggie demanded. “I need bandages, salve, and a knife sharp enough to slice off Alasdair Og’s—”
Angus swore. “Are ye daft? Don’t you smell the smoke? They mean to burn a witch tonight.”
Meggie stared at him. “A witch? Superstitious nonsense! There are no such—” Her hand came to her mouth. “Fia?”
“Aye—ye’ve got to flee,” Angus pleaded. “John, will ye take them?”
“Angus, where’s Dair?” Fia asked.
The big clansman looked away. “There’s no time. Get on a garron and ride—”
Fia didn’t move. “Not without knowing.”
Angus met her gaze, his throat working. “He went mad, took a ship, sailed out into the storm on his own.” She stared at him, and Angus’s face fell. “He’s the best sailor I know, understands the sea like a lover knows his lass, but no one could survive a storm like that, not alone.”
Fia crumpled against the doorway of the stable, and John caught her arm, afraid she’d fall. “Dead?” she whispered. “Dead?” John felt shock and grief burn like a coal in his own breast.
“I’ll take a ship, some of the men, sail out and look for him in the morning,” Angus promised. “I’ll send word to ye, mistress, but you have to go.”
Fia swiped her hand across her eyes, one then the other, sharp, determined slashes, to clear her tears. “Meggie,” she said, looking at her sister. “I have to . . . That is, we must . . .” Her tears fell anew, streaking her bloodstained gown. She was trembling, but John watched her spine stiffen.
“Bastards,” Meggie swore. She deftly rolled back her elegant lace cuffs. “We’ll decide on our revenge once I’ve heard the whole tale . . .” She grasped the dirk strapped to her arm.
“No,” Fia said firmly. “Let it go, Meggie. Swear you won’t tell Papa any of this.” Fierce hazel eyes clashed with blue ones. Meggie looked away first.
“We’ll talk more about this when we’re home, Fia MacLeod.Ifwe get home at all.” She turned to Angus and John. “We’ll need fresh horses.” Fia went back into the stable, and Meggie followed.
“I was expecting at least one of them to faint,” John said.
Angus grunted. “Englishwomen might have, but Scottish lasses are made of sterner stuff. Come on. Best get them away before they kill someone with that dirk.”
Logan felt a surge of power fill his veins. He ran a finger along the edge of his bonnet, adorned with the three eagle feathers that proclaimed him chief. “Go and fetch the witch,” he bellowed. His clansmen scurried to obey, carrying torches, baying for blood like hounds on a hunt. He smirked. Fia MacLeod would cower and plead, but she would be powerless. The crowd would cheer as the flames caught her clothes, her skin, her hair . . . he only had to wait. “D’ye see this, Jeannie?” he whispered. “We’ll have our revenge. Dair’s in hell, and his whore shall follow. She won’t have him.”
All he had to do was wait a few minutes more.
CHAPTER SIXTY
“They’re coming,” Angus muttered, standing in the doorway of the stable, his dirk drawn.
Fia’s fingers shook as she saddled the garron in the dark. Beelzebub crouched beside her, growling at the unfamiliar sounds outside, his white coat bristling.
“Hush,” she said, and ran her hand over him. She was afraid—very afraid—and sad beyond words, but there was no time for that now.
She could hear them coming along the cliff path, yelling for her death. “Meggie?” she called.
“Ready,” Meggie replied. She found Fia’s hand, squeezed it. “Your heart is broken, isn’t it?”
