Page 47 of Unforgotten
“Good,” MacKinnon murmured. He leaned forward, trailing his lips down Ella’s cheek. “Tell Leanna that I’m free to wed again … tell her that I’m coming for her, and that the walls of Kilbride will not stop me from taking what is mine.”
Horror bubbled up within Ella. His wife and son had only just been laid to rest. In the space of a day, he’d become a widower, and all he could think about was having Sister Leanna.
Beast.
His fingers tightened around Ella’s throat. “Will ye tell her that?”
Ella nodded.
“Say the words, swear ye will tell her,” he snarled.
“I swear,” Ella rasped. His grip was so tight on her neck she could barely breathe. “I will tell her.”
A hungry smile spread across Duncan MacKinnon’s face. “That’s a good lass. Ye are the biddable sort … I like that.” His free hand reached up and grabbed her breast through her habit, squeezing hard. “Ye have a lush body under yer crow’s garb too … I like that even more.”
The panic that had been simmering within Ella exploded, and she realized with sickening certainty that he was going to rape her—right here against the wall in her bed-chamber—unless she did something to stop him.
Ella moved.
She dropped her weight, dragging him down with her, while her left hand grasped beneath the layers of her habit and underskirts to the knife hidden beneath them. Whipping the blade free, she stabbed him in the chest.
The look of surprise on Duncan MacKinnon’s face would have been comical, if she hadn’t been so scared.
He reeled back, mouth gaping. In an instant he released his grip on her neck, and Ella slipped past him, making for the door.
But MacKinnon was a warrior. He’d fought in battles and had no doubt taken wounds before. As such, he recovered with frightening swiftness.
Cursing, he yanked the blade free, flinging it away from him. It clattered to the flagstone floor. MacKinnon staggered and lunged for her, blocking Ella’s way out.
She needed to reach for another knife, but unlike when she traveled, she only kept one blade on her indoors. The others sat in her satchel beside the bed.
Flying across the room, Ella grabbed a large clay jug full of water.
MacKinnon gripped her round the waist and hauled her back toward him. Ella twisted and hurled the jug at his head.
It smashed across the clan-chief’s skull, bringing him down like a charging boar gored by a pike.
Duncan MacKinnon crashed to the floor.
Trembling, Ella stood there a moment, staring down at him.
Dear Lord, preserve me … have I killed him?
No—he was breathing.
A mix of panic and relief swept over Ella. She glanced around her, frozen in place for an instant. She couldn’t think what to do. Fear turned her witless, and then as she took in one deep breath and then another, she was able to move.
Heart pounding, she grabbed her satchel and made for the door. She didn’t stop to check on MacKinnon on the way, or even to retrieve the blade that lay on the floor behind the unconscious clan-chief. It was too risky. She needed to get out of this chamber, and far from MacKinnon, before he awoke.
21
In the Dead of Night
GAVIN WAS JUST drifting off to sleep when someone shook him awake.
In an instant he lashed out, his fingers fastening around a slender arm. The gasp that followed made the last vestiges of sleep fall away.
“Ella?”
