The Libertine (Taskill Witches 2)

Now they think so, now when it is too late. Tamhas clenched his jaw, then gestured briefly in acknowledgment and made his way into the building.

The place was stripped. Doors stood open, empty drawers hanging out of the dressers. The large items of furniture were still there, but few personal belongings. Fingal and his cohorts had left in a hurry. With the bailiff’s men following behind, Tamhas went through every room in the house.

In the parlor he found ashes still smoldering in the grate. Evidence, no doubt. Turning the remains over with the poker he stared into the grate. It was Lennox Fingal’s determination to establish himself in Saint Andrews that had convinced Tamhas they would stay, no matter what. There was some small sense of satisfaction that Lennox Fingal had been forced to accept defeat on that point, but it was not enough to pacify Tamhas’s need to destroy the vermin. They had gone because they knew he was on their trail. Had his cousin Chloris sent word?

Tamhas cursed beneath his breath as he considered her foolish behavior, how it angered him. He’d had her watched, though, and he was sure she’d not had the opportunity to leave and pass the word before she left for Edinburgh. Yet somehow they had been one step ahead. He had not gone to all this trouble—engaging the support of the council, the bailiffs and his men—to end it now.

“They fled,” he informed the men as they gathered outside, “but not long since. The fire is still warm.” He turned to face them, glad to see several of them still had the bloodlust in their eyes. “I will ride after them and bring them to justice. Who is with me in my quest?”

“Are you sure of that, Master Keavey?” the bailiff said. “If they are gone from the burgh it is no longer our concern. We can spread the news, warn others who might encounter this unholy coven. But I say we celebrate the day they have left this place, for we will no longer be subject to any wrongdoing on their part.”

Tamhas frowned. The bailiff’s job was to secure the burgh for which he was responsible, so Tamhas could not fault him for his view on the matter. It did not tally with his own, however. Cousin Chloris and her weakness for the Witch Master still needled at him, and the fact that his wife had let slip she’d had dealings with the blaggard only angered him all the more. He was determined to sniff Lennox Fingal out, to oust him as a servant of Satan and see him strung up.

“I understand your position, Bailiff. However, it is in my nature to be sure that they will not return. My peace of mind and my family’s safety demand that of me.” He looked beyond the bailiff at the gathered men. “Who rides with me?”

Some of the men stayed silent, unsure about the value of the ongoing chase. However, there were enough who were still eager to give him support. He looked their way. A dozen or more of them said “aye.”

Before they left he examined the tracks once more. “They are headed inland, away from the coast.”

“Sire,” one of the older men called out, and drew his attention away.

Peering down at the sight, Tamhas frowned. Then he saw what the man had seen, the hoofprints of a large mount traveling a different path. Glancing first at the sky and then at the landscape on the horizon, he gained his bearings. The carts had, as he first thought, headed inland—to who knew where. This lone rider had gone a different direction. To Cupar or beyond?

Beyond. It was a journey he knew well—for it crossed Fife to Edinburgh.

Words from that revealing letter he had intercepted crossed his mind. The hope that you will agree to our arrangement will sustain me. Until then, I remain devoted to you.

Could it be that Lennox Fingal was set on having Chloris? Had he ridden after her? Anger built steadily in Tamhas as he considered the possibility.

What arrangement did that letter refer to? Chloris had said it was a magic ritual, but there was more to it. “Damnable stupid bitch,” he muttered beneath his breath, “I would have sired a child for you if you had been more amenable toward me.”

The implications continued to unfold.

If Chloris’s husband discovered what had gone on while his wife was under Tamhas’s protection, a large share of Tamhas’s wool trade in Edinburgh might be at risk, for it was Gavin who had established the majority of his commercial contacts.

That threat, and the real possibility of shame brought on his family because of Cousin Chloris’s dalliance, meant that there was only one possible path for Tamhas to take—to follow the lone rider.

He had a dozen men, and Lennox Fingal was alone. Even with witchcraft on his side, he was well outnumbered. With a sense of satisfaction, Tamhas headed to his horse, assured that he was finally going to see justice done.

* * *

Lennox rode as if he could beat time by doing so, watching the sun’s passage across the sky, trying to stay ahead of it and only slowing when the path became more treacherous. Even then he urged Shadow on, picking his path carefully, always taking the shortest route, no matter how hard.

By midday he had skirted the Burgh of Cupar. There was still a full day’s ride ahead before he reached Edinburgh. Chloris was already there and subject to her husband’s will. It turned his belly to think of her sacrificing herself, returning to the life she’d confessed she hated, in order to protect his people. It was her trust and her honest faith in people that meant she could not see her cousin had no intention of keeping his word. Of that Lennox was sure. Chloris’s nature was kindly, even though her wish to discover the best in people had so often been unfulfilled. He would not allow her tentative trust in him to be shattered.

Then it occurred to him that Chloris might have realized he had come to her because of his feud with Keavey. Keavey might have pointed that out to her when he read the letter. The thought of it made Lennox wish he could change what had happened, that he had realized from the outset how much she would come to mean to him.

He was so deep in thought that he jolted in his saddle when his horse stumbled. Grasping tightly to the pommel on his saddle in order not to be thrown, he saw that the ground had become rocky. They were passing through a glen flanked by a rocky ravine on the left-hand side. A stream trickled through moss covered rocks to his right. Heavy gorse and heathers covered the spot, the only bare patches where it was too rocky even for the hardy gorse to thrive. “Easy, boy, easy.”

When he soothed the beast, he realized Shadow needed to rest. Perhaps he did, too. Several nights had gone by with little sleep. With a long ride ahead he had to pace them both. Forced to dismount he reluctantly took a respite, leading Shadow to the stream. Alongside the horse he ducked down and scooped the icy water in his

hands, splashing his face, sharpening his senses. Then he sat on a nearby rock.

Exhaustion was creeping in on him. He needed his full faculties when he arrived in Edinburgh. He could not afford another misstep. Three days earlier he’d been confident in his endeavors and fully expected to have Chloris by his side now. An error on his part. He would not let her return to that sad fate, to be unloved and unwanted, and worse still—beaten and berated. But he had to be able to think clearly.

Resting back against the mossy rock, he allowed his eyes to close.

It was images of Chloris that swam in his mind. Chloris breathless with need for him. Chloris on the verge of agreeing to forego her previous life, to be with him. For a woman like Chloris, who had battled her desire to stray so fiercely, that was no easy choice. It made him long to hold and shield her. The tightness in his chest knotted over again, and he forced himself to consider images of her in a better life, vowing to make it real. He could never offer her the privileges she’d had before, but he could give her much more in other ways, and he would cherish her.