“I’m just going into the kitchens to see Gertie,” she called as she walked by. “I won’t venture farther than that.”
Gannon nodded but kept an eye on her progress. “Stay where I can see you, my lady.”
She smiled and stepped inside the door but remained where Gannon could see her from where he sat.
Only, Gertie wasn’t tending the fire as was her habit. Mairin sniffed the air. No bread was baking either, which was unusual given that Gertie always had a loaf baking, day or night. Mairin often wondered when the woman took her rest.
Perhaps she’d stepped into the larder. Aye, that was likely, and if so, she’d return in a moment’s time. Gertie wouldn’t leave an unattended fire for more than a few seconds.
But when Gertie didn’t return, Mairin frowned. A noise that sounded like a moan coming from the larder spurred her into action. She rushed through the kitchen and stepped inside the small room, her gaze seeking Gertie.
There crumpled on the floor lay Gertie, blood trickling down her temple. Mairin rushed forward to kneel by the older woman. Then she turned, prepared to call for Gannon, when a hand clamped over her mouth and an arm jerked her from the floor against a hard body.
“Not a sound, my lady.”
She managed to free her mouth. “Diormid?”
“Silence,” he bit out.
Her shock wore off and gave way to burning rage. “You dare to show yourself on McCabe land? You’ll not live to see another sunrise. My husband will kill you.”
“You are my passage to freedom,” he gritted out next to her ear.
The unmistakable feel of a blade cutting into her dress over her belly sent a shiver up Mairin’s spine. He held the knife so close she could barely move for fear of being cut.
Diormid’s grip tightened on her and he laid the flat of the blade against her now bare belly. “Listen well. If you do anything foolish, I19;ll slice open your belly and spill the babe onto the ground. If I fail to bring you back to Cameron, I die. If I’m caught on McCabe land, I die. I have nothing to lose, Lady McCabe, and I assure you, if you draw attention to us, I’ll kill you and your babe before I die.”
For some reason his words infuriated her rather than struck fear in her heart. She was tired of the endless fear they all lived in. She was tired of seeing the worry in Ewan’s eyes. He didn’t sleep well. He wasn’t eating properly. All because he feared the implications of the choices he’d made as laird.
She fingered the dagger attached to her belt. Caelen had gifted it to her upon their return to McCabe keep. His thought was that there was no reason a lass shouldn’t be able to defend herself if the situation arose.
She found in this moment she was in complete agreement.
Careful not to upset Diormid in any way, she nodded her agreement. “Of course I’ll do whatever you wish. I’ve no desire for harm to come to my child.”
“We go out the back, where the skirt crumbles. My horse waits in the trees. If anyone sees you, you are to call out that Gertie has need of the healer.”
Mairin nodded. Diormid’s hand closed around her nape while his other hand still gripped the knife against her belly. As soon as she felt the metal leave her flesh, she whirled, her dagger in hand.
In Diormid’s surprise, his knife swung up, slicing her upper arm. But the pain barely registered, so intent was she on her task.
She rammed her knee right between his legs and at the same time sank her dagger deep in his belly. He staggered back and then went down hard, his hands going to his groin. He was crying far more piteously than Heath had done when Ewan gave him the same treatment.
Wanting to make sure he was incapacitated, she grabbed one of the heavy cooking pots from the floor and bashed him over the head. He went immediately still, sprawled on the floor, arms and legs thrown wide. Only the hilt of her dagger shone against his belly. No part of the blade was visible. It was buried too deeply in his flesh.
Satisfied that he wasn’t going anywhere for the moment, she turned and fled, yelling for Gannon as she went.
As she entered the kitchen, she ran full tilt into Gannon and bounced off. She would have fallen had he not grasped her arms to steady her. Then he saw her torn dress, and his expression grew stormy.
“What is it, my lady? What’s happened?”
Before she could respond, he shoved her behind him and drew his sword.
“There is something I must show you,” she said urgently. “Well, that is, I need you to stand guard while I fetch Ewan.”
Without awaiting his response, she ran around him and tugged at his hand, pulling him into the storage room. She pointed at Diormid sprawled on the floor. “I must fetch Ewan. Can you make certain he doesn’t move until I get back?”
Gannon’s face clouded with fury as he looked on the man he’d trusted and called brother-in-arms. Then he looked up at Mairin in astonishment. “My lady, what did you do to him?”
At his question, the events of the last moments caught up to her hard and fast. Realization set in as to just how close she and her babe had come to harm. Her hands began shaking and her stomach rebelled. She turned and retched violently. She bent double and held her middle as she heaved onto the floor. Tears burned her eyes as she sucked in steadying breaths in an attempt to quiet her roiling stomach.
“My lady, are you hurt? What has happened?” Gannon asked worriedly.
She straightened and put her hand on Gannon’s arm to steady herself. “Do I have your promise, Gannon? You’ll make sure he doesn’t move until I return with Ewan?”
“I’m already here, lass. The entire keep heard your bellow,” Ewans’ voice sounded behind her.
She whirled in its direction to see him and his brothers standing in the doorway and promptly regretted her action. Nausea billowed up her throat and she bent over once again.
It was Caelen who put an arm around her and held her as spasms overtook her. Ewan was too busy surveying the scene in front of him.
“What in God’s name happened?” Ewan roared. “How did he get into our larder?” He turned on Gannon. “Have you an explanation for this?”
“Nay, Laird, I do not.”
“Gertie,” Mairin choked out. “Ewan, she’s injured.”
Ewan motioned for Gannon to see to Gertie, who still lay on the floor a short distance away. Gannon lifted Gertie in his arms and carried her from the larder. She was already coming around and protesting loudly that she could walk under her own power. Ewan turned to Mairin, who shook like a leaf against Caelen’s side.
“Tell me what happened, lass.”
“He cut my dress,” she said, as she held up the tattered material of her skirts. “He threatened to cut the babe from my womb if I didn’t cooperate.”
Alaric stared at her in astonishment. “If he held a knife to your belly, how in God’s name did he wind up unconscious on the floor with your dagger in his belly?”
“I took a page from Ewan’s book,” she said primly.
Ewan raised an eyebrow and exchanged glances with Caelen.