Highland Wolf (Highland Brides #10)(83)
“Well,” she said now with an evil smile. “The mare had raced off when I got off her, and I was ever a quick thinker, so I said as how I was seein’ the boy safely to his uncle as all was killed back at MacDonald and we took a tumble from his pony. So, they took us up on their horses, pulled his pony behind and took us to their laird, the MacKay.”
“And Conall did no’ tell them the truth when he woke up?” Claray asked with disbelief.
“From what I understand, he took quite a wollop to his head. Did no’ recall the ride back at all,” she said with a shrug, and then added, “That’s when I kenned I’d done the right thing. God was protectin’ me by taking his memory.”
Claray suspected it was more likely the head injury on top of the trauma of seeing most of his clan die that had stolen his memory and protected the witch.
“That’s why I do no’ understand why He let the lad get away from me,” Mhairi complained now. “I thought I’d succeeded when I woke up the next morn to the news that everyone, includin’ the lad, was dead. I thought the blow to the head must ha’e killed him. And that’s what Laird MacKay said happened when I asked.” Mhairi smiled faintly. “I was ever so pleased. I thought I’d done God’s work and removed the seed o’ evil, eradicatin’ the blight.
“And, at first, it did seem that me work in His name had done even more good than I’d hoped. Some o’ the other bastard MacDonalds who had their own cottages and did no’ share the meal had up and fled in fear o’ God’s wrath when they heard tell o’ so many dying. Of those who remained, some were murdered by reivers or other clans, but all fled eventually, either through death or on their own feet. O’ course some came to MacKay, and I kept a close eye on them, killin’ any who showed signs o’ lustin’ and such. Real careful like though,” she assured her. “An accident here, an accident there.”
Claray closed her eyes briefly as she thought of those poor people, and then Mhairi clucked with disgust and said, “I’ve passed twenty-two years thinkin’ I’d done well, then one fine mornin’ the MacKay and his wife rode out with their daughter and a hundred men. No one kenned what was happening except that a messenger had come from the Buchanans.”
She sighed unhappily. “And then two soldiers returned. They were exhausted, they were. Had ridden night and day to bring us the news that Bryson MacDonald yet lived. That he’d survived that night and had been smuggled out to Sinclair to live under a different name to keep him safe until he was an adult and could claim Deagh Fhortan and rebuild it to its former glory. They said all MacDonalds who wished to join him should pack up and be ready to go when we got word that they were passin’ MacKay.
“Well,” she said grimly. “I kenned then that I had to come finish me work. God would no’ look kindly on me did I no’ complete it. So, I packed up me things and left with the others when two more soldiers arrived to tell us ’twas time to go. And here we are,” she said with a pleasant smile. “I’ll kill ye, and then him, and then me work’ll be done.
“At least, I think ’twill be done,” Mhairi added with an uncertain frown. “I do wonder if I should no’ kill the remaining MacDonalds too with another dose o’ poison to the wine and ale just to be sure I’m really finished.” She pondered that briefly, and then muttered, “I’ll have to think on that. I’ve still a little time. So long as I do it ere anyone learns the two o’ ye are dead, it should work fine.”
Claray stared at her with bewilderment. “But ye’re a MacDonald too. How could ye kill yer entire clan like this?”
“I’m no’ a MacDonald,” she snapped, suddenly furious again. “I was a Douglas. I just married a MacDonald. I thought him a fine man at the time, hardworkin’ and kind. But the bastard was as evil as everyone else here. Makin’ me enjoy the beddin’ and imperilin’ me immortal soul,” she said with disgust. “Riddin’ the earth o’ him and all the other carnal animals here was the only way to redeem meself and me son in God’s eyes.”
“Yer son?” Claray asked with surprise.
“Aye. I was with child when I started the purge o’ MacDonalds. I did no’ ken until a little after. At first, I thought to kill the bairn the moment he was born, but I could no’ do it. I’ve raised him good and proper since though, puttin’ the fear o’ God in him. Between that and finishin’ me work here I hope to save both our souls.”
Claray sank back in the chair with a small sigh as she thought of the hell this woman must have put her son through with her “putting the fear o’ God in him.” What would that include from a woman who was running about murdering unsuspecting MacDonalds who were unfortunate enough to choose MacKay for their temporary home and who she deemed sinners? Claray was also more than a little distressed to recognize part of herself in the woman. She had worried for her soul because she’d enjoyed the bedding too. But where she’d accepted that it must be all right because she’d vowed to obey Conall and he’d ordered her to enjoy it, this woman had . . . well, she’d lost her mind as far as Claray could tell. Mhairi believed that enjoying the bedding was a sin that would see her soul in hell, but that killing so many innocent people would redeem her. It was madness.