Free Margo Maguire by The Highlander's Desire

she would be able to crawl through the narrow stone cave that tunneled through the mountain to the interior of the isle.
    “Has she any broken bones?”
    “Nay, but she’s bruised all over,” Janet replied. “He knocked her about pretty well this time.”
    Anna’s concern flared to anger. “ ’Tis all I can do to keep from searching for the miserable beast and putting a bullet into his brain.”
    “Anna, no,” Kyla gasped. Tears shimmered in her eyes.
    “And why wouldn’t I?” Anna demanded, unable to contain her anger. “No doubt the bleeter went back to the pub after his dunking and he’s still so jaked he wouldn’t recognize a pistol if I stuck it right between his eyes. What I wouldn’t give to blow the clarty monster’s—”
    “Well, I do’na know where ye’d get a pistol, lass,” Janet said, “but ye’ve no time for it now, anyway. Ye need to get Kyla away before the man comes to his senses and remembers where she is.”
    Anna blinked back her own tears, aware that Janet was right.
    She crouched down before her friend. “Kyla, do you think you can walk up to the castle?”
    “No, Anna,” Kyla said quietly. “I must take Douglas and go home.”
    “Not tonight,” Janet countered. “Not until someone talks some sense into your bloody husband.”
    “Or beats it into him.”
    “What?” Kyla whimpered.
    Ach, Anna knew her friend had loved her husband once, but how could she now—after all the beatings and the horrible, harsh words? “I’ve made Gudrun’s cottage ready for you,” she said, for there was no point in arguing with Kyla about Birk’s worth. She was blinded by love, and there was no telling when she’d get her sight back. “Well, at least the bed is ready. I spared little time moving the old crates aside or doing anything more.”
    When she’d finished her chores at the keep, she’d hurried out to the wee thatched cottage where Gudrun had lived until her death ten years ago. ’Twas Flora who’d suggested the old croft, for no one ever used it these days except for storage, but it was habitable, if crowded with crates full of discards from the castle. “Birk doesn’t know of it, so he won’t find you tonight. You can sleep in peace . . . and heal.”
    Kyla gave her a dubious look. “What about his uncle? Mungo Ramsay will be about the castle grounds.”
    Aye, Mungo was a large, muscular man, well suited to doing any heavy work that was required within the castle walls. There was little smithing to do these days, and Anna did not know what to make of him. But he always kept his distance, rarely even speaking to her.
    But he watched her, and he kept his eyes on Kyla whenever she came up. It was unnerving, but he’d never made a move to harm either of them. Anna suspected Mungo was one of Catrìona’s conquests, but she did not care to give that distasteful thought too much attention.
    “No one ever thinks about Gudrun’s cottage. Not since it’s been closed up all these years.” Anna took Douglas from Kyla’s arms and patted his back. “Please, Kyla, don’t argue.”
    The bairn gave out a loud belch. “Well now. That’s a braw lad,” Janet said.
    “Anna . . .”
    Anna ignored her friend’s plaintive tone. “You’ll be fine tonight up at the castle. Can you walk up there?” Anna would borrow a horse and cart if need be.
    Kyla touched her injured lip and winced. “I’ll try,” she said, and Anna was relieved there would be no further discussion—and no tears—about going home to her nasty turnip of a husband.
    Anna handed Douglas to Janet and helped Kyla to her feet. Kyla was unsteady at first, but she managed to walk to the door.
    “Come on, then. Lean on me.”
    Kyla took Anna’s arm, and Anna took Douglas from Janet. “I’ll look in on you tomorrow, lass,” Janet said. “And bring ye news of yer husband.”
    Kyla nodded. “Thank you, Janet. For everything.”
    ’Twas a slow walk up to the castle, with Kyla leaning heavily upon Anna.