The Libertine (Taskill Witches 2)

Lennox grasped her by the shoulder. “Did he hurt her?”

Glenna shook her head. “No, but he threatened her with the gallows if she didn’t give him your letter.”

Lennox froze. If he had taken the letter, Keavey would know that he and Chloris had been secretly meeting. Cursing silently, he gripped Glenna’s shoulder tighter.

“Ailsa was afraid, Lennox. She had no choice.”

Glancing beyond her while she spoke, Lennox noticed that Ailsa continued to work with the others loading the cart. When she looked his way she hung her head in shame.

“It is not Ailsa I am angry with. It is myself for giving the letter to her and sending her into harm’s way. I am a fool, and I am unworthy of your loyalty. She should not have been put in that situation.”

Glenna hushed him. “Don’t fret. We are ready to leave. It is time. And your woman is safe. Keavey has sent her back to Edinburgh.”

Back to Edinburgh.

To her vile, brutal husband.

Lennox cursed and stared up at the sky, wondering if the tangled web of his life could get any worse. Why was it that he was doomed to fail when it came to keeping his women safe? He had vowed that no man would ever hurt Chloris the way she had already been hurt, and yet he had not been given the chance to see that through.

Life had dealt him another cruel blow.

“Edinburgh is no salvation for Chloris, believe me.” He looked into Glenna’s eyes and shook his head.

Glenna was watchful and canny and she quickly saw that he was even more afraid for his lover. Lennox paced from side to side, tormented by the notion that Chloris had been forced back to that bastard who had treated her so cruelly. If only Keavey had not found out. It was a particularly bitter twist of fate because when he first set about seducing Chloris he had anticipated Tamhas Keavey’s reaction, and had wished to see his face. Because of what had passed between them it was now the worst thing in the world for Chloris, who he cared about immensely.

And it was bad for the rest of them, by the looks of things.

“You are making ready to leave?”

“Aye. Keavey told Ailsa that he would find evidence against us if it was the last thing he did, and he would see us all burned. We gathered together to discuss it. Then Maura Dunbar came down from Torquil to warn us. She’d overheard Keavey shouting at his cousin. Poor Maura felt bad because she was the one who’d sent Mistress Chloris up here. Maura said that Mistress Chloris cried in her room. She told Maura she’d begged him to leave Somerled’s people alone. Keavey said he would, but only if she returned to her husband.”

Chloris. Pain knifed through him at the thought of her so distressed. Lennox could scarcely contain his anger at Tamhas Keavey.

“Then, when Maura left, Lachie and I talked. We knew Keavey would not let it rest, despite his supposed promise to his cousin. He was bound to use this against us. Lachie went into Saint Andrews and asked about. Keavey had already been in to the town and has requested the bailiff attend the town council first thing in the morning. He put the word about that there is evil in the forest and with the bailiff at his side he would be seeking the witches out and bringing them to justice. Keavey is readying his men for a morning raid.”

Lennox felt his anger turn inward as he realized he had lost control, and people who relied on him were being let down. All of them. How could this have happened? With his sister’s ousting so fresh in his mind, the news of Chloris and Keavey meant that pure, undiluted rage pumped through him. It was only his concern for Glenna and the others that stopped him bellowing aloud in his fury.

“When Lachlan returned,” Glenna added, “we made the decision to be ready to leave by dawn. There was so little time, we had to make the decision without you.”

“You made the right decision. If you are gone by dawn you will have a good start on them. Keavey will not be able to act alone. He’ll need the agreement of the town council and the power of the bailiff’s men. It’ll be midmorn before they get here.”

“What news of your sister?” Glenna was cautious in her question.

Lennox took a deep breath. “Gone. Escaped before her trial, thankfully.”

Glenna grasped his forearm. “You see, there’s no holding any of us.”

Her eyes glistened.

He sensed her relief, and he knew that she was taking strength from his news. News of running, hiding. That should not be something to gain hope from, but for them it was. The history of torture and death for those who practiced the craft was too long and too sordid in the Lowlands. He looked over at Somerled, where his people loaded the cart with their most prized possessions.

“You are ready for this,” he whispered, commenting more to himself than to her.

It would not be easy on them. The people he had gathered beneath his wing were a mix of witches born in and around Saint Andrews, and those from farther away, like himself. For a while it seemed as if they could be safe here. With an outward life of respectability and commerce, nurturing their practices until they became more widely accepted. Now they had to gather their chattels and leave, head north to the Highlands where the terrain was tough and unknown to them.

Glenna nodded. “You prepared us. We’ve been ready for this for a long while.”

Lennox was grateful for that much. Now he had to choose between seeking the trail of his sister, protecting Chloris and urging his people on their way.