“I am their leader, and I was taking Mistress McTavish with me so that she could spend some time in our company. We wanted to talk to her about her father.” He glared at the two men.
Keira caught his arm, ready to remonstrate with her, but he shook it off and faced the two guards.
“Take me,” he said. “I am responsible for this.”
“Ye have been helpin’ this scum?” Mick McCall asked, his voice high with disbelief.
“Yes,” Murdoch replied firmly. “I have.”
“So every time they got away fae us, it was because o’ ye?” Blair Thomson asked.
He took a step closer to Murdoch, who did not back away. He was six inches taller than the other man and stared down into his eyes until Thomson looked away.
He looked at Mick McCall, his fellow guard, then they both looked at Keira.
“Did he hurt ye, Mistress McTavish?” McCall asked anxiously.
Keira shook her head. “What are you going to do with him?”
“Dungeon,” Mick McCall answered. “Then the laird will likely have somethin’ tae say tae him.”
“I always looked up tae ye,” Blair Thomson said contemptuously. “I even wanted taebeye sometimes because the ladies liked ye so much.”
“An’ now we find ye are a stinkin’ traitor!” Mick snarled. “Oh, I wouldnae like tae be in yer shoes once the laird gets started on ye!” His voice was filled with evil relish, and his lip curled upward in scorn. “I dinnae think yer face will be so pretty once he has finished wi’ ye!”
“Come on, you.” Blair pushed Murdoch’s shoulder, then turned to Keira once more. “Are ye sure he has no’ harmed ye, mistress?”
He looked worried. No doubt he and his fellow guard would be punished if any harm came to his daughter.
“I am fine,” she repeated, “but I hate to see people treated violently, so please do not manhandle him.”
The young man looked at Keira admiringly. “You are a good woman, mistress,” he observed. “But why are ye out in the dark?”
Keira drew herself up to her full height and tried to assume an indignant expression while shifting from foot to foot as though she was nervous.
“That is my business,” she said haughtily. “Not yours.”
The two men looked at each other and came to their own conclusions. Of course the young woman had been enjoying a lovers’ tryst, and her father did not know about it.
Keira watched as Murdoch’s hands were bound behind his back and the two guards began to punch and kick him as they walked away to join the other prisoners. The fighting had stopped, and the rebels were being roughly tied together to walk back to the castle while the wounded and the dead were heaped in a cart. The dead would be buried with no ceremony in a communal grave in unconsecrated ground, while the wounded would be imprisoned with their fellow bandits and left to fend for themselves.
Keira felt her heart crack with pain as she watched Murdoch being led into the crowd of rebels, many of whom she knew well. He was tied to the rest, but not before the other guards gave him a good beating with their hands, feet, and the butts of their swords. She had half expected to see one of them stabbing him, but they were well-trained; Murdoch would be a source of vital information. She thought she saw him looking back at her once, but she could not be sure.
Murdoch submitted to all of the abuse since there was no way he could fight back, but even as the blows rained down on him, he was glad that he had saved Keira. He did not think the laird would execute him, at least not yet. He had too many questions to answer first. His interrogation would be brutal and painful, he knew, but he would endure it for as long as he could. Then, if the situation became too bad, he would kill himself. If that was what he had to do to keep Keira safe, then he would do it.
* * *
Keira turned and made her way back to the castle, hoping that no one else had seen her. If the two guards told the laird of her presence, she would simply deny it and tell him they must be mistaken. Adaira would swear she had been with her playing chess. Who would contradict the laird’s daughter and his wife?
When she reached her bedchamber, Moira was waiting to strip her, wash her, and help her into bed. While she was doing so, Keira related the story of the ambush and Murdoch’s changing sides to favor the rebels’ cause.
“I have no idea why he did it, Moira,” she said, with a baffled frown. “He seemed so firmly on the side of my father.”
Moira was plaiting Keira’s hair neatly as she listened, and when she had finished she turned her mistress around to look at her.
“I dae,” she stated, her voice firm. “He cares for ye, Keira. An’ dinnae tell me he doesnae. I have watched him an’ listened tae him when he passes me, an’ if he is no’ a man in love, then I have never seen one.”