“Ye are a witch. I dinna believe the rumors. Had I known, I never would’ve agreed to marry ye.”
It was oddly satisfying to watch him panic at the knowledge—knowing that he could do nothing to prevent anything I wished to do to him. I stayed silent as he rambled on.
“Do ye mean to kill me? Would ye kill a man for losing his temper?”
I wondered if perhaps I should, but I knew that I could not. While the world would most certainly be a better place without him, I couldn’t live with blood on my hands.
“No, I willna kill ye, but if ye ever slap one of yer servants again or if ye ever try to bed a lass against her will, rest assured I will learn of it. When I do, I shall come and cut yer tongue out while ye sleep.”
The admittance that I wouldn’t kill him made him bold.
“Witchcraft is an offense punishable by death, lass. When I am free, I will let all of the Highlands know what ye are. Then even yer dear brother will be unable to help ye.”
The spell wouldn’t hold him forever. I wasn’t even sure I would have enough time to get Jerry away from Grier before Henry was free of my spell. There was no sense in arguing with him further. I wouldn’t kill him, and he knew it.
“I could always cut yer tongue out now, then ye would be unable to tell anyone anything ever again.”
I hated that I wasn’t as frightening as I wanted to be. He easily called my bluff.
“Ye retched after poking my eyes. Ye doona have the nerve to cut out my tongue.”
Placing both hands on his shoulders, I smiled.
“Ye are right. Goodbye, Henry.”
Swinging my knee far back behind me, I threw it into his groin with so much force that I knew it was he that would now be retching long after I left.
Chapter 39
I ran from the tower as quickly as my feet could carry me. I didn’t stop until I burst into the stables, screaming for Mary and Kip to meet me.
They were ready with all of our belongings, though we’d had no opportunity to plan how best to get Jerry alone.
I’d not seen him since the day I walked in on he and Grier in his cottage. I wasn’t sure my already rattled nerves could take it.
“Ye must breathe, lass. We’ve still much to do. We must do it quickly. Kip has a plan.”
More surprised than was perhaps appropriate, I lifted my eyes to look at him. Kip was a man of few words. To think he’d been sitting around thinking of a way to help me touched me deeply.
“Ye’ve a plan, Kip? Whatever ’tis I’m willing to try it. I’m too shaken to think.”
Kip’s calm demeanor helped ease my breathing as he approached and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder.
“Ye look it, lass. How did MacNeal react?”
Still trying to catch my breath, I spoke in broken lengths.
“Not well…he…he knows I’m a witch…and I might…I might have blinded him. I canna say for sure.”
“Well, lass,” his voice still calm and steady, Kip continued on like there was nothing unusual about what I’d just told him, “we best get started then before he has a chance to send his men after us. Here is what I propose:
“Under no circumstance can Grier see ye. She willna trust ye and will hide Jerry away. I doona trust Mary to approach her. She’s too angry and willna be able to hide it. I must be the one to lead Grier away from their new home in the village, and I know just how to do it.”
* * *
We approached the dimly lit home as quietly as we could, tying one horse just a short distance away while the rest remained tied in the woods for our escape. Mary and I sat on the ground on the left side of the cottage, our backs pressed against the wall.
The moment we saw Kip leave with Grier, we would enter and try to speak with Jerry. At that point, the result of our efforts was entirely dependent upon his reaction.
