And it would happen all over again. Whoever was controlling MacNare wouldn't give up, and Connor's greatest nightmare was that he would die without knowing who his enemy was… just as his father had.
For several days Brenna tried to remain calm and keep her mind on the normal activities of the holding. She was on her way back from visiting with Lothar when Netta caught up with her. The servant immediately noticed her mistress wasn't wearing the leather necklace.
"You aren't wearing your medallion, mi'lady."
"No, I'm not."
"But you always wear it. I wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't worn your hair up today. Have you misplaced it?"
Brenna removed the ribbon from her hair and let her curls fall down around her shoulders. If Netta had noticed, Crispin would too, she reasoned, and she didn't like the idea of lying to Connor's close friend.
"The medallion will show up any day now," she said. "You needn't worry about it."
Netta wasn't quite finished discussing the matter. "I know it isn't in your room. I only just finished cleaning it, and I would have found it for you if it was there. Our laird's medallion is on the chest in the very same spot as yesterday. You never lose yours, mi'lady. Did you look on the chest in the hall?"
"Not yet," she answered before she tried to change the subject. "How did you get away from Lady Euphemia?"
"She's resting. As soon as she awakens, she wants me to pack her clothing."
"She's leaving?" Heaven help her, she couldn't contain her smile.
Netta laughed. "She told me she had decided against waiting for her stepson to come back and plans to leave tomorrow morning. I think she feels she's being ignored by our laird."
"He hasn't been ignoring her. Surely she realizes how busy he is."
"Did he send a message to you today?"
"Yes, he did. He assures me all is well and that he will be home soon."
"But that is the very same message he sends you every day."
"He is being considerate, Netta. That is all that matters to me."
"Mi'lady, may I ask a favor of you?"
"Yes, of course."
"After Lady MacAlister leaves, will you tell me why she made you cry last week? I know I shouldn't ask you, but I worry about you. So does Ada. We've both become very fond of you," she added with a nod.
"I'm very fond of you too, Netta. As soon as I know the problem has been taken care of, I will tell you what she said to me."
"Thank you, mi'lady. Were you going inside?"
"Yes."
"Did you have any duties for me?"
"None that I can think of. You might as well enjoy your afternoon of freedom. I'm going to change my shoes and go riding."
"Have you warned Crispin?" Netta asked with a grin.
"He's occupied for the moment checking the work on the wall outside the holding. You needn't concern yourself that I'll ride the black. Davis hid him from me."
Netta burst into laughter. "Is Davis still closing his eyes every time you go inside his stable?"
"Yes, but he refuses to tell me why."
Brenna watched Netta run across the courtyard. Her own thoughts were on her sister as she went inside and ran up the steps to her bedroom. Waiting to hear that Faith was all right was extremely difficult, and the only way she had been able to get any sleep at all was to put the matter in God's hands. She had done everything she could. The rest was up to Him.
She swung the door open and hurried across the chamber. She spotted her dagger on the chest next to the bed and had to shake her head over her own forgetfulness. She really needed to force herself to slow down so that she wouldn't continue to lose her things. She quickly picked up the dagger to put back in its sheath.
She heard the squeak of the door as it closed behind her, assumed the wind coming in through the windows was responsible. She was just about to sit down on the bed to remove her shoes when she heard the lock clicking into place.
She knew, before she turned around, who was inside the room with her.
And then she saw him. Raen stood in front of the door, and as her scream gathered in her throat, he slowly removed his shirt.
Crispin was informed of Raen's arrival by the soldier in charge of the drawbridge.
"He and three others came back a few minutes ago. Raen's the only one who crossed the bridge, though. His companions are waiting in the meadow below. I can see them from here," he called down. "Raen told me he had gone to pay his respects to Hugh and wanted only to tell his mother farewell before he left again. He suggested I leave the drawbridge down, which, of course, I refused to do. You'll see his horse is still wearing his saddle, Crispin, so he really means to leave soon."
Crispin left his mount with Davis and started up the hill. His mistress had told him she was afraid of Raen, and Crispin was going to stay close to her side until Connor's stepbrother left again.
The closer he got to the keep, the quicker he moved. He couldn't explain why he suddenly felt as though his mistress was in danger, but the feeling intensified until he was running to get to her.
And then he heard her scream. His heart slammed inside his chest as he reached for his sword. "Son of a bitch." He whispered the curse the first time, shouted it the second.
Everyone was running to the courtyard. The silence after such an anguished scream terrified all of them.
Crispin reached the top of the path when he heard a man's shout. Jarred, he looked up. There in the window was Raen clutching at his shoulder, teetering and swaying like a tree giving way to the ax, then plunging backward into the air. He twisted in a useless attempt to land on his feet, screaming in horror, and then crashed, face first, into the ground with a soft thud.
And on Crispin ran. Dear God, let her be alive, he prayed. He leapt over Raen, raced up to the door, and pulled it open as Brenna came charging outside.
He stopped dead in his tracks. The look on her face was more terrifying than her cry for help. Her eyes were glazed over, her face was stark white, and there was blood everywhere. Her left arm was covered in it, for the skin was splayed open from the top of her shoulder to the bottom of her wrist. More blood covered her shoulders and neck, and her clothing looked as though an animal had shredded it with its claws.
He didn't know how she was able to stand. He reached for her, but she evaded him and ran down the steps.
"Hurry, Crispin, Hurry. You have to help me," she sobbed. "We have to hide him."
A crowd of soldiers surrounded the body. They stepped back when she ran closer. Their expressions showed their shock and their outrage.
"I didn't push him out the window… No, no, I didn't… His feet got caught in his plaid when I thrust my knee into his groin… yes. I meant to hurt him so he wouldn't… He was holding me down, but the dagger was in my hand then… When he rolled over… it went… and he jumped, Crispin. He did, he jumped… and then he fell."
She grabbed hold of Crispin's hand and tried to pull him forward. "Don't you understand? We have to hide him… She can't see her son like this. Oh, God, I have to tell Connor… I couldn't let him… He touched me, his mouth was on my skin, Crispin… I couldn't let him… She told me I should, but I couldn't… No, I wouldn't," she screamed.
"Euphemia told you to submit to her son?" Crispin demanded in outrage.
"Yes, but I couldn't… He tried, but he fell before he could…"
She stopped rambling, let go of his hand, bent down to take hold of one of Raen's feet, and tried to drag him away.
"Mi'lady, let go of him. Let me help you," Crispin said.
"Yes, help me. We'll hide him before she knows he came back. All right?"
"Yes," he promised, his voice calm, his goal to reassure her. "We'll hide him."
"Mi'lady, your dagger is in his back," Owen whispered. "Do you want me to get it for you?"