"You sound like Fenella," Alix teased the girl.
They turned together to walk back, Alix moving slowly, Fiona carrying the basket with their treasures. And then behind them they heard hoofbeats. A rider came up beside them and blocked their path. Alix moved to protect her stepdaughter. Then she realized that the horse's rider was a woman.
"Is this girl Fiona Scott?" the woman asked in a hard voice.
"Who wishes to know?" Alix said quietly. She was less frightened now that she saw the horse's rider was a woman.
"Who are you?" the woman now demanded.
"I am the Laird of Dunglais's wife," Alix said.
"His whore, you mean," the woman declared. "Is this the laird's daughter?"
Fiona stepped forward. "Do not dare speak to my mam like that!" she cried.
The woman laughed scornfully. "Your mam?" she said derisively. "She is not your mother. I am your mother, you little brat!"
"The mother who birthed me is dead," Fiona said heatedly.
"I am not dead, brat! Your father imprisoned me in a cottage out on the moor with two servants when I refused to give him another child. 'Tis true you were a disappointment to us both, but there it was. When I wanted to go back to court your father refused to allow it unless I gave him a son. I tried to run away from him, and when he caught me he put me in that cottage." She moved her horse between Alix and Fiona. Robena looked down at Alix. "Did you give him a son, whore? And I see your belly is big again. But know that you are not his wife. I am! Your bastards will inherit nothing from their father." She leaned down from her saddle, and gripping Fiona by her long black hair, so much like her own, she yanked her roughly up and over her saddle. "Tell my husband that I have taken my daughter. No whore will raise her or be called her man whist I live." Then, turning her horse about, she rode off with the girl, who had begun to scream and kick in an attempt to escape her captor.
Alix had teetered dangerously when Robena had drawn her mount around, for the creature's nose just brushed her. She struggled to remain on her feet, and when she had finally regained a firm footing she stood stock-still in shock for a moment or two. That the woman who had just stolen Fiona was who she said she was Alex had not even the slightest doubt. While Fiona did favor her handsome father, she also had some of her mother in her, and Alix had recognized it. Not just the silky black hair, but the bright blue eyes and the slight slant of those eyes. Robena Ramsay lived, and Alix Givet was indeed the laird's whore and her sons his bastards.
How could he have done this to her? Alix asked herself as she attempted to run back toward the keep. Did he really love her? Or was he just so desperate for sons that he did what he felt he had to do? Either way it didn't matter. She was shamed, and her children were stained with the mark of bastardy. She would never forgive him. But for now, alerting her hus-the laird-that Robena had kidnapped Fiona was more important than her outrage and her sense of betrayal. Her breath coming in short pants she gained the lowered drawbridge and stumbled across it, crying loudly, "Fetch the laird! Saddle his horse! To horse, men of Dunglais! To horse!"
Beinn came running, and Alix collapsed against him. "My lady, my lady! What is the matter?" He looked past her. "Where is Mistress Fiona?"
"The laird's wife has her," Alix gasped.
Beinn stiffened. "My lady, you are the laird's wife," he said.
Alix looked up into his big, honest face. "Nay, I am his whore, and the wife who he married ten years ago has come out of whatever private hell she inhabits and stolen Fiona away. Get my-his daughter-back!"
Malcolm Scott ran from the house. "What has happened?" he asked her.
Alix looked up at him with angry eyes. She wanted to slay him where he stood, but now was not the time to give way to her fury. Fiona must be rescued from that horrible woman and brought home to Dunglais. "Your wife accosted us on the moor and took Fiona away," she told him.
He didn't bother to deny or explain. Ignoring her, he said to Beinn, "The bitch can't have gotten far on foot."
"She was a-horse," Alix said stonily. Then she turned on her heel and left them.
Beinn shrugged fatalistically. It was obviously his horse.
"We'll go alone," Malcolm Scott said. "We can't have this getting out of hand, or the Ramsays will be at my door spoiling for a fight. Damn!"
A stable boy ran up with the laird's big stallion and Beinn's new large gelding. The two men mounted. When they approached the gate, the laird gave instructions that the drawbridge should be drawn up after them and the gates closed until he and Be inn returned.
"Robbers have stolen Mistress Fiona," he explained. "Beinn and I will go after them and fetch my daughter home again, but the keep must be secured." Then he and his captain rode across the oak drawbridge and out onto the moor. "She'll be heading for her cottage in all likelihood," Malcolm Scott said.
Beinn nodded in agreement.
"She knows the penalty of exposing herself. I warned her that if she could not settle herself peaceably I would intern her in the dungeon of the old tower by Dunglais Water. I probably should have done it in the first place, but I could not bear to think of anyone living in that dark and damp pile of rock," the laird said.
"You should have strangled her when you caught her with Black Ian," Beinn said bluntly. "She had already been tainted by him, and I'm not so certain the Ramsays didn't cheat you when they gave you their daughter to wife. I never knew such a high-strung lass as the lady Robena. But until now she has been content to abide in her confinement."
"I couldn't kill her, Beinn. Even when I saw what she had done to that poor creature she killed in order to hide her tracks. She was a woman, and she had given me my daughter. But now I will kill her when I catch her. I have no other choice. I did not lie to the Ramsays seven years ago. Thank God they will never know of this incident."
"What will you do with Fyfa and her half-wit of a brother?" Beinn wanted to know. "You have been candid with her all along. But if you kill the lady she will know."
"They will have a choice of either remaining in the cottage, or leaving. If they leave, I will see they have the means to begin anew wherever they go," the laird said. "I will not kill Robena in their sight, so they will never know what has happened to her, and I suspect that will suit Fyfa well. She is a practical woman."
"And pretty too," Beinn said with a small smile.
The laird laughed. " 'Tis not often you speak of a woman, old friend."
"She's a good woman, my lord. When her father's heir sent them away, she remained with Rafe to look after him, for he could not fend for himself. She might have found employment alone, but who would have cared for him? I admire her."
The laird chuckled. "You're a good man yourself, Beinn," he said.
Am I? Beinn wondered, remembering his hours as Robena Ramsay's captive. At the last, when he had had her on her back, he had found a certain enjoyment in fucking the vicious little bitch. He would not be sorry to see her dead.
The two men galloped their horses across the moor in the direction of Robena's cottage. Finally they saw a horse ahead of them and they spurred the mounts to catch up.
She heard them coming. She did not bother to even turn. The young girl across her saddle had ceased to struggle and was half-conscious. But her horse began to slow its gait, limping, and she cursed volubly, finally drawing to a stop. There was no help for it. She couldn't have the damned animal collapsing beneath her.
Fiona whimpered. "Da! Mam!" she sobbed.
"Shut your mouth, you little brat. I'm your mother, and if I have to beat you to death to understand that, I will!" She dug her fingers into the girl's scalp and yanked cruelly on the dark hair so like her own.
Fiona cried out softly.