Birdie and the Beastly Duke by Sofi Laporte
Chapter 19
Agroup of village men unloaded the boats and rowed them back to a large ship, which was docked outside somewhere behind a rock. Gabriel ducked lower behind a stack of crates, hoping they wouldn’t discover him.
“We could ransom ‘er,” a burly man said after he dumped a heavy crate down. Given the way the other men acted in his presence, he appeared to be the leader of the group. He had an auburn beard and a cruel look in his eyes.
“I dunno, McKenna. We should leave ‘er out of it. She’s been a good lass,” replied McAloy. The reverend looked troubled.
A bundle on the floor groaned. Gabriel strained his eyes, trying to make out the shape. With horror, he realised the bundle was not a sack, but a person.
It was Birdie! Gabriel shot out of his hiding place with a roar. “What have you done to her, you scum?”
“Weel, weel, weel.” McKenna pointed a pistol at him. “The Beast of Dunross in person.” He curtseyed in mock obeisance. “How dee do, Yer Grace. I must say I imagined ye a lot more terrifying than ye are.” He pointed the gun at Birdie. “Stay where ye are or she dies.”
Gabriel froze.
“McKenna. Leave them out of it. I beg ye.” McAloy tried to lower his arm. “No good ever comes out of messing with the lairds. Smuggling is one thing. We need it for survival and for feeding our families. It’s not as though any of us really enjoy doing it—except for ye. But murder is another matter. Ye’ll damn yer soul and get us all hanged.”
McKenna pushed him out of the way as he strode towards Gabriel. “I’m done payin’ obeisance to the lairds,” he spat out. “What good have they ever done to us? They’ve only brought us death, destruction and despair. Have ye already forgotten?” He looked around wildly at the men who’d dropped their loads and were gaping at Gabriel. Some of them grumbled and nodded.
“Burnt the land. The farms. Drove us away. Took the land for sheep. Aye, and where are they now, the sheep? How are we to survive, I ask ye, Yer Grace? How are we to feed our bairns?”
Gabriel looked at him helplessly. “You are right. You’ve been done a great injustice. But leave her out of it. She’s entirely innocent and has had only had the best in mind for you and your children.”
A man with scraggly black hair nodded. “Aye, I can confirm that. Let the lassie go. She’s been good to us.”
“No.” A wild light flickered in McKenna’s eyes. “Did they leave our women out of it? No. They burned our huts. Drove our families away. Ye yersel told me, Bruis, that the woman was in the way, prowling around in the library in the middle of the night and taking the outhouse buildings where we store the loot.” He spat on the floor. “Transforming it to a bloody school.”
“Aye. But when we agreed earlier to scare her away, that didnae mean ye should burn down the castle,” Bruis grumbled. “It was too much. What if the fire had spread? What if someone had got killed?”
“And so they should,” McKenna growled. He turned to Gabriel again with a mocking smile. “An eye for an eye. But wait, ye’ve already lost one,” he snickered.
“McKenna, whisht,” the reverend intervened, but McKenna swung out with his arm and smashed him in the face, so he crumpled to the ground. Gabriel rushed forward, but three of the men who were nearest to him jumped at him and brought him down. He threw them off with a roar.
At that moment, Birdie jumped up, grabbed a paddle that lay on the floor, and swung it into McKenna’s face. But he saw the blow coming and jumped back, firing his pistol, narrowly missing her.
Birdie tripped backwards over a pile of rope, still holding the paddle, and crashed against a stack of crates, which toppled over and knocked out a red-bearded man. She scrambled up again, clutching the paddle.
McKenna narrowed his eyes, reloaded the pistol, and aimed it right at her.
“Move aside Bruis, I have her.”
“McKenna. Wait—”
A shot rang out.
Birdie crumpled to the ground.
Gabriel roared.He threw the men off and rushed over to her, swinging his fists. The remaining men hesitated and did not attempt to keep him back. Some pulled their hats.
“McKenna. Now ye’ve done it,” whispered one man as he stared at Gabriel in terrified awe.
His wife lay crumpled over a pile of rope, the paddle across her breast.
Her face was white.
He lifted her and buried his face in her chest, sobbing. He’d always known it would come to that. There really was no point in living any more.
A soft hand buried itself in his hair.
“I’m all right, Gabriel,” he heard her spirit whisper. “I feel no pain.”
He cried even harder.
The grip in his hair tightened. “Gabriel. I said I am fine.” The hand shook his shoulder. “Oof. You’re squishing me.” She pushed him back.
Her eyes were open and looked at him, full of concern.
“Birdie!” He gasped. “You are not shot? You are not hurt?”
“I merely stumbled over the pile of rope here and hit my head.” Birdie winced. “I have two bumps now. One from when they discovered me and now this.” She looked up. “I don’t think McKenna fired that shot. Look.”
The men stood in awe around a gaunt, but terrifying, figure who pointed his pistol of Waterloo at them.
“No one touches the Duke of Dunross. Not on my watch,” the figure snarled and bared his yellowed teeth. “I’m a better shot than any of you, including His Grace, and he was in the Light Company. Mark you, I can shoot blind, and my bullet will find your heart. And anyone who moves but a hair on his head will get a bullet in his brain.”
Higgins.
At his feet, McKenna lay dead.