“Don’t touch her,” Ali yel ed. Pul ing Mari out of his reach, she put up a hand to stop him from coming any closer. He took a step toward them, and his foot caught on the edge of his robe. The crowd gasped when he stumbled, fal ing to the ground with a resounding thud.
“Yer my witnesses,” he cried from where he lay prone on the cobblestones, pointing a gnarled finger at Ali. “She struck me down in defense of a witch. In the name of the Lord, my Father, I demand ye seize them both.”
Panic threatened to overwhelm her, but Ali forced it down with a vengeance. Fighting to keep Mari close to her side, she pushed past the menacing faces, but it was too late. The crowd came at them as one, sinking their claws into their exposed flesh, tearing at their clothes, their hair.
“No, stop! You have to stop!” she cried when someone wrenched Mari from her arms. A man loomed over her and everyone else, hauling her to his chest. It was the blond giant she’d saved from chok ing the night before, but from the look on his face she wasn’t sure if he was friend or foe. He wrenched Mari free from two serving girls before he dragged Ali and her maid along with him. Their feet barely touched the ground.
“Doona’ fret. Al wil be wel once the laird comes,” he re
assured them quietly. To the crowd he shouted, “Our laird wil hear of the priest’s charges upon his return.”
Helped to his feet, the priest brushed off his robes and bel owed his demands after them. “See you lock them away like the criminals they are. Justice wil be served this day.”
“Aye,” the man-at-arms muttered. Under his breath he said to Ali, “Emotions run high. ’Twil be safer and ap pease the old buzzard if I put ye in the dungeons. But doona’ fret, my lady, I’l see to yer care myself.”
LORD OF THE ISLES
73
“Thank you,” she murmured, trying with difficulty to keep up with his long strides. Her feet ached, and she left a trail of bloody footprints on the unforgiving stone. But Mari’s condition was worse. She was limp as a rag dol ; the man-atarms al but carried her. As though sensing Ali’s concern, he reassured her. “As soon as we’re out of their line of sight I’l carry her, my lady.”
Ali appreciated his kindness, but she couldn’t help but feel it had come too late. Mari could’ve died. With the thought, Ali’s temper flared. “I can’t believe Lord MacLeod would al ow his men to stand back while a child was being abused on his land.”
With a furtive glance over his shoulder, he scooped Mari into his arms and turned to Ali. “He wouldna’ al ow it, my lady.”
“But the guards on the wal never did anything and you—”
“I wasna’ here. I had returned to have my wound tended to when I came upon the mob.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Brow furrowed, she searched for his injury and found the place on his arm where blood stained the fabric just below his shoulder.
“Are you sure you can manage?”
“’Tis no’ but a scratch.” He crossed the slate floor, past the hal , barking orders at the servants who darted out of his way. “Bring whatever Lady Aileanna wil need to see to the wee lass.” He unhooked a lantern from the wal beside a heavy wooden door and handed it to Ali. The thick oak creaked as he opened it and gestured for her to take the lead.
“Step careful y,” he advised.
She did as he suggested, easing her way down the roughhewn stone steps. Cool, musty air enveloped her at the foot of the stairs, and she was unable to suppress the shiver that skittered down her spine. He nudged her forward from behind and something brushed the bottom of her gown. Ali 74
screamed, nearly dropping the lantern. “What . . . what was that?” she croaked.
“Rats,” he murmured. “I’l send for the cats. The laird should be on his way.”
Ali nodded. She sure as hel hoped so, for both her and Mari’s sake. The man-at-arms propped the girl against his side while he retrieved a key from a heavy iron ring. The barred metal door clanged open, and his mouth flattened as he ushered them inside the four-by-four-foot cel . He gently placed Mari on a rusty old cot. The girl hadn’t made a sound and Ali was afraid she was in shock. “I’l need some blankets . . .”
“Cal um. I’l see to it, my lady. I wil na’ be long.”
Ali sat beside Mari, trying to ignore the grating sound of the key turning in the lock. She cupped the girl’s face between her hands and looked into her eyes. “I won’t let anyone else hurt you, Mari. I promise.”
The young girl shuddered. A strangled sob escaped her pale lips, and she threw herself into Ali’s arms.
“There . . . there, it wil be al right.” Ali patted her back, relieved at least to get some sort of reaction from her. She pul ed away and rested her hands on Mari’s shoulders. “Let’s have a better look at you.”
Mari tugged self-consciously at the tattered remnants of her beautiful gown. Ali came to her feet. Lifting the bottom of her own gown, she tugged the ruffled underskirt down and stepped out of it, careful not to get any blood on the snowy white flounces.
Mari gasped. “My lady, what are ye doin’?”
“Wel , in case Cal um has abandoned us, I won’t have you sitting around half naked when Lord MacLeod arrives.”
“Do ye think he’l come?”
“Of course I do. And when he does, it’l be that psycho
pathic priest who’s down here, not us.”
