Page 98 of Love with a Scottish Outlaw
Cat saw Owen’s mouth move, but he couldn’t seem to find words.
“Welcker, the sheriff of Glasgow, had me imprisoned when I tried to stop it. My people have been rescuing the children when we can, but we weren’t able to reach the sheriff himself who organized these crimes with the backing of your father and some of the magistrates. At last both men are now dead, the magistrates defenseless. I’m grateful my people will no longer suffer. But when I found Cat—Lady Catriona—I thought your father lived, that perhaps she was part of his plan. But then when it was obvious she really had no memory, I wanted him to know what it felt like to have a missing child. So I used your sister for my own ends, and put her in terrible danger.”
No one said anything for a long moment. Owen, usually so logical and impassive, wore a variety of emotions that paraded across his face as if he didn’t know which to feel first: confusion, sorrow, fury. Cat had felt all of those, and more, since she’d first met Duncan Carlyle.
“Ye held my sister captive,” Owen said coldly to Duncan, then turned to Cat. “But ye didn’t know it?”
She shook her head. “I was well treated by him and all of his people.”
“Ye cooked food and cleaned laundry,” Duncan shot back. “That’s treating the sister of an earl well?”
Before Owen could say anything, Cat rounded on Duncan. “What else should I have done? I wanted to contribute, because I was being fed and clothed and housed.”
“Housed in a cave!”
Owen’s eyes went wide but she brushed those words aside with a swipe of her hand.
“We all lived in the cave. Even if I’d known my identity, I would have wanted to be of help. What should I have done, sit in a chair and find something to embroider?”
“I could have told ye the truth, but I let ye worry about the family ye couldn’t remember,” Duncan said tiredly. “I denied ye that.” He turned to Owen. “Lady Catriona can verify that my clan knew nothing about this. To them, she was a vulnerable woman in need. Do what ye wish with me, but don’t take my crimes out on them.”
Owen frowned at Duncan for a long moment, then turned back to Cat. “When did your memories return?”
“Four days ago. Duncan had promised to return me when it was safe, but I saw poor little Finn being kidnapped, and I tried to help, and only found myself in the same trap.”
“I think ye’re leaving much out of this story,” Owen said at last, then faced Duncan. “But none of that matters compared to what ye’ve done to my sister. Ye’ll answer for those crimes.” He gestured to one of his men, who approached. “Take him, but allow him to ride his own mount. If he gives ye trouble, rope him across the saddle.”
Cat had to stop herself from protesting—then examined her own conduct in shock and confusion. Duncan had committed crimes against her. She couldn’t deny that. But he walked away from her so calmly, perhaps returning to gaol once again without protest. He’d made it possible for the children of his clan to play freely, without fear. And now it was as if he didn’t care what happened to him. Would she ever rid herself of the terrible ache of frustration, sorrow, and regret?
Chapter 23
The journey back to Owen’s castle lasted most of the day. Cat knew that Duncan was somewhere among the soldiers, but she never saw him. He’d sent his own men back to the cave, and though they’d been confused, they’d obeyed him. Cat kept Finn with her, knowing the girl would probably follow them on her own.
Cat busied herself comforting the children, to whose families Owen had already sent word—with Duncan’s help. She knew her brother was still outraged, frustrated, and sad that he’d known nothing about the kidnappings, that their own father had been capable of such deceit.
But they couldn’t talk about it in front of the children, and she was almost glad. She didn’t want to answer Owen’s questions about what had happened to her. She was still trying to accept that she was never returning to the cave, that she might seldom see Maeve and the other friends she’d made. Maeve and Muriel had felt as close to Cat as any friendships she’d ever had, except for her close bond with her cousin Riona. Oh, she knew she could visit them—and she wanted to see Maeve in her own home again, now that the sheriff was dead and his evil deeds would come to light. Though Owen would feel guilty over what their father had done, he wouldn’t hide from it.
But what would happen to all the Carlyles if Duncan languished in gaol once again? Would his tanist seek to have his chiefdom revoked? She’d never met the man who would become chief if Duncan died without an heir. She’d once asked about him, only to be told the man was supervising the move of clan cattle from their summer pasture.
She must have looked worried and confused as she rode, because Owen kept glancing at her. To avoid him, she’d kiss little Adam’s head as he slept against her, or lean in to say something to Finn and Calum, riding together on another horse. Calum had finally awoken from his fear to speak his name.
Castle Kinlochard was such a welcome sight that she had to blink away tears. Finn kept sneaking awed glances at her now, as if knowing she’d grown up lavishly changed what Finn thought of her. After crossing the arched bridge over the moat, they found the courtyard full of men dismounting. She saw Finn’s expression when the girl caught a glimpse of Duncan, with two men holding his arms as if he’d flee after coming here willingly.
Between Adam holding onto her neck and Finn suddenly gripping her hand, and battling her own need to see what was happening to Duncan, Cat felt pulled in so many directions she was a little panicky.
“I’ll fetch Mrs. Robertson to help ye,” Owen said, giving her a dubious look.
“Nay, ’tis all right,” Cat murmured. “The children are just frightened. The housekeeper can meet us at supper, then show us to rooms for them.” She hesitated, then whispered, “Duncan?”
“I’ll put him in a bedchamber under guard.”
Cat’s shoulders sank as she let out her breath.
“Ye look very relieved for a woman who was wronged. I could put him in a cell.”
Again, she caught Finn’s swift look. “Nay, let’s discuss this later.”
They entered the great hall through the double doors at the back, and Owen’s wife, Maggie, was the first to meet them, throwing her arms around Cat’s neck, then pulling back in surprise at the sleepy toddler she’d disturbed. Maggie’s unusual eyes, one blue, one green, were narrowed with curiosity.
