A Pledge of Passion to the Highlander
Page 21
She stopped speaking, as her mouth went dry. There was an uncomfortable silence. Howard kept staring at her, his face impassive.
“It is strange,” he said slowly. “Very strange, that a well-born English lady would journey by herself, on horseback, through such treacherous country. Your friends had no carriage or guard to offer you…or you did not have your own?”
Roseann swallowed nervously. “As I said, Commander, I left hastily, and without the knowledge or blessing of my friends. They would have offered carriage and guard if there had been time. But my journey was so urgent I simply saddled a horse myself and set off.”
Part of it was true, wasn’t it? The part about having to journey on her own was, at least. Roseann swallowed again, gazing at him, trying to look as innocent as possible.
Howard gazed at her levelly. Then suddenly, he smiled. It wasn’t a pleasant sight.
“Lady,” he said. “You have had misfortune, by the sound of it. You must rest before you fall on your feet…”
“Oh, no,” breathed Roseann, blinking rapidly. “If you could offer me a horse, I can continue on my way. It is urgent, and I do not wish to put you out.”
His smile widened. “You are not putting me out, lady. You shall be my honored guest.” His eyes slid to one of the soldiers. “Escort the lady to a vacant tent and make very sure that she has everything that she requires to rest easy.” He paused. “And make sure she is not left alone, even for a moment.”
30
Domhnall strode through the courtyard at Coirecrag, towards the castle gates. Once there, he summoned the guard, calling him down from his post.
“Have ye seen anythin’?” he asked slowly. “Any indication that the warriors of Lios are approachin’?”
The guard slowly shook his head. “We have been on high alert all mornin’, Laird. But there is no sight of anyone approachin’ the castle.”
Domhnall cursed underneath his breath. “Keep vigilant. And as soon as ye see anythin’, I am to be informed. I dinnae care if I am on the privy or in the middle of a meal. Is that understood?”
The guard nodded. “Of course, Laird. Ye shall be told straight away.”
Domhnall nodded, walking away, back into the castle. Slowly, he touched the gold bracelet that he wore underneath his right sleeve. It was foolish, he knew, but it was like a reminder of her—a reminder of Roseann. If he wore her bracelet, it was as if she was still close to him, somehow. And now, he was starting to think of it as a talisman of sorts. If he took it off, he would somehow have bad luck.
He cursed softly again. It was foolish. He already was having the worst luck, and a woman’s bracelet wasn’t going to change that fact. It had been two days since the Laird of Lios and his daughter had inexplicably ridden away from Coirecrag. Two days, where he had been jumping at every arrival through the castle gates, awaiting the men that the Laird of Lios had promised him were due to arrive.
He gritted his teeth. He simply couldn’t fathom it. He had watched Baltair Crannach write the letter himself, ordering his fighting men to come to Coirecrag. And he had seen the messenger ride through the castle gates to deliver it to Balness castle.
And still, the men had not arrived.
Frustration almost choked him as he swept into the castle, not noticing anyone or anything around him. He was still cooling his heels here, when he should be out, dealing with Howard, once and for all.
He strode towards the staircase. He was back to his study, to pore over old maps, looking for advantages when the time came to finally fight. It was proving futile. He had already studied them a hundred times, and there was nothing more to be gleaned from them. But he couldn’t sit around here, twiddling his thumbs. It was imperative that he feel like he was doing something.
He sighed deeply. The men were restless, too, eager to be out there and deal with Howard. He knew how deeply they felt this forced inactivity, and some were vocal about it, saying that they should ride out to deal with Howard without the Lios men. If this stalemate kept on, he knew that there would be imminent rebellion afoot. He simply wouldn’t be able to control them going out and doing something.
Just as he was approaching the staircase, Mairead descended. The old nursemaid gazed at him with concern. He took a deep breath as he gritted his teeth. He simply didn’t have time to deal with anything that Cormac might be doing at the moment.
“Mairead,” he said slowly. “How are ye today, and how is my wee brother?”
Mairead smiled faintly. “He is as well as is to be expected in the circumstances,” she replied slowly. “But the disappearance of the lady has rattled him, Laird. He was very fond of her, ye ken.”
Domhnall blinked back sudden tears. “I ken it, Mairead. She was a good and kind tutor to him, and he will feel her loss.” His face abruptly hardened. “But there is nothin’ I can do about it, ye ken. I searched for her, and she has simply vanished…”
Mairead sighed deeply. “I ken what everyone is sayin’ about her in the castle. They claim she is an English spy.” She hesitated. “But I daenae believe a word of it. I ken the lady better than most, and she is nae a spy. She came to love Scotland and everythin’ at Coirecrag while she was here.”
Domhnall gazed at her steadily. “She seemed to, Mairead. But a good spy makes ye believe that they are somethin’ they are nae. That is how they work…”
But Mairead shook her head vigorously. “Domhnall MacBeathag, I was yer nursemaid before I was yer brother’s. Do ye trust my judgment of people?”
Domhnall nodded his head slowly. “I do, Mairead. Ye do not give yer good opinion easily, but once ye do, it is because ye ken that a person is worth it.”
Mairead nodded. “Just so, Laird. And I am tellin’ ye, Roseann Gibson is nae a spy.” She paused, gazing at him steadily. “I daenae wish to interfere in yer personal business, but ye are actin’ like a dobber, and that is nae a lie.”
Stunned, he stared at her. “That is harsh, Mairead…”
“Is it?” said the nursemaid sharply. “I ken how ye feel about the lass, and how she feels about ye. I ken that ye are lovers. Did ye really think I wouldnae notice? I may be old, and I am nae blind.”
He kept staring at her, tears smarting behind his eyes again. “Aye, we were lovers. I wanted to marry her, ye ken.” He hesitated. “I loved her, Mairead, and I trusted her. But she took off in the night like a thief, without tellin’ anyone, and even if she is nae a spy, she still wanted to escape Coirecrag…and me.” His heart twisted at the very thought.
Mairead blinked rapidly. “Ye wee fool! Ye have nae asked yerself why she left so hastily. I ken that she loved ye, Laird. She wouldnae have left so suddenly, without tellin’ ye, unless she had to. Unless she was made to…”
Domhnall stared at her, twisting the bracelet around on his wrist. He had thought the very same thing when he had found it, discarded, in her trunk. The uneasy thought that she would never have left it behind if she hadn’t been in such haste.
He sighed deeply. But how could he prove it, either way? She had disappeared without a trace. He couldn’t find her to ask her why she had left if there had been good reasons. And everyone besides Mairead and Cormac seemed willing to believe that she had willingly gone.
He hadn’t been able to sleep, thinking about her disappearance, and his troubles with Howard. He ached to hold her in his arms. She was the only one who could make him forget it all, for just a little while. When he was making love to her, and with her, it was as if time suspended. It was as if there was nothing else in the world but the two of them…for a little while, at least.
“I dinnae tell ye,” continued Mairead, frowning. “I dinnae think much of it, until now, and ye have been so busy, with what is happenin’…”
“Tell me what?” he asked, staring at her steadily.
Mairead sighed again. “That day, when Roseann was tutoring Cormac, the Lady Sineag came to the room. She said she wanted to meet Cormac.” She paused. “But then she asked the lady to sup with her
. They dined alone in Lady Sineag’s chambers…”
Domhnall frowned. “The Lady Sineag sought her out? And wanted to speak to her alone?”
Mairead nodded. “Aye. And I spotted Roseann afterwards, walking to her chambers. She looked stricken, Laird. As white as a sheet.” She paused. “I thought she was just tired and upset about yer betrothal being announced. It is only since then, with her disappearance, that I have thought differently. I have thought that perhaps the Lady Sineag said something to her, which made her leave so abruptly.”
Domhnall felt cold all over. “Ye think she…threatened her, in some way, so that she felt she had no choice but to go?”
Mairead nodded again. “I cannae prove it, of course. I dinnae hear what they talked about. But that very night, the lady vanished. It is out of character for her to do so…especially when I ken how deeply she felt about ye.”
Running a hand through his hair, Domhnall gasped. Mairead was right. He had been a fool—a stupid, blind fool.
He hadn’t even thought for a moment that Lady Sineag may have noticed his feelings towards Roseann, or that if she had, she would care that much. It wasn’t as if he was courting the Lady of Lios, in any way. The betrothal between them was part of business, a cold-blooded pact. He had never pretended to be her ardent lover, and he had never thought for a moment that she would expect him to be.
He gasped again. Had she been…jealous? Had she noticed how he and Roseann felt about each other, and even with the betrothal, decided that she had to go? It would make sense if that were the case. Lady Sineag would have felt threatened by the continuing presence of Roseann at Coirecrag. If she was jealous, she would not have wanted her future husband’s lover under her very nose.
He breathed, thinking furiously. And yet, he had not discerned that Lady Sineag held any real affection for him. Even when she had forced him to kiss her, when she had been departing, it was as if it had all been a show.
However, he knew that some women were proprietorial of their husbands, even if they didn’t love or even like them. It was merely a matter of staking their claim. They simply didn’t want any other woman holding power. That might have been the reason for Lady Sineag threatening Roseann and making her leave.
He sighed deeply. If she had threatened Roseann as Mairead had said, there was no proof of it. And with Roseann gone, he couldn’t ask her, could he?
Suddenly, a vision of her consumed him. Roseann, in the black velvet cloak, not speaking. She had been acting out of character then, too. What had spurred her desire to cover herself in old Celtic symbols and make love to him like that, in such a fierce way?
Had she been saying farewell to him…in the only way that she could?
“Laird.” A man’s voice just behind him.
He turned around abruptly. “Aye, what is it?” he snapped, distracted. He wanted to talk with Mairead some more, now.
The servant gazed at him steadily. His face was somber.
“Laird, a rider has just come,” he said. “He says he has grave news, which ye must receive, urgently.”
Domhnall strode into the kitchen, where the messenger was resting. The kitchen staff had already put a jug of ale beside him.
“Greetings,” said Domhnall, approaching the man. “Ye have urgent news for me?”
The rider nodded, standing up. “I do, Laird. I have ridden through the day, without break, to deliver it.” He hesitated. “It is grave news, Laird. Howard and his camp have attacked again. They pillaged the village of Crisdean, to the east of yer lands…”
Domhnall felt all the blood drain from his face. “What?”
“It is true,” said the messenger, blinking back tears. “I saw the destruction with my own eyes. Howard and his men have set the village afire, after they slaughtered most of the townsfolk, before dragging off the bonnie young lasses…”
Domhnall slammed his fist into the table so suddenly that the kitchen staff all stopped, stunned, turning to their Laird. It was deathly silent.
“Enough,” he growled, his eyes glittering fiercely. “That is it. I will nae sit around any longer waitin’ for the men of Lios. Howard must be stopped. I am going to slaughter him like a pig, myself, and I will have a smile on my face as I am doing it.”
31
Roseann stared around the tent that the soldier had led her to. There was a sleeping roll in one corner, but other than that, it was bare. There wasn’t even a bowl of water to wash with, and no refreshments.
Desolately, she lay down on the sleeping roll, trying to make herself comfortable. Outside, she heard the shouts of soldiers, getting more and more intoxicated. The bastards were celebrating their pillaging of Crisdean.
Tears filled her eyes. She knew that Howard was suspicious of her story, that she had been visiting friends in Glasgow, and spontaneously decided to leave by herself, to travel back to England. That was why he had insisted that she stay in this tent and under armed guard.
He was probably investigating who she was, she thought darkly. He would keep her here, as his prisoner, until then. A wave of fear swept through her. What would he do to her when he found out where she had really come from? What would he do when he found out that she not only knew the Laird of Greum Dubh but had been a valued member of his household?
She blocked her ears, desperately. Outside, the shouts were getting louder. And now she could hear the awful cries of the women that they had dragged from Crisdean. The soldiers’ lust was deepening as they got drunker. And the poor women were being forced to bear the brunt of it.
She couldn’t help it. The tears that had been threatening slowly slid down her cheeks. She would fight any of them tooth and nail if they dared to breach this tent and attack her. She only wished that she had a knife so that she could kill them if they tried anything.
She twisted and turned on the uncomfortable sleeping roll. She was so tired and so sore after her desperate flight into the woods today. She blinked rapidly, forcing herself to stay awake. But she must stay alert, in case something happened. In case one of the drunken renegade soldiers stumbled into this tent, and attacked her…
But eventually, fatigue overcame her. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she drifted into a troubled sleep, where the shouts of the men became part of her very dreams…
She was running through the woods. She heard the blood-curdling screams of the villagers behind her, but she knew that she must not turn around. She knew that if she did, they would get her.
She kept running, frantically, blindly. Behind her, she felt a cold wind, breathing down her neck. She trembled with the sudden knowledge that she was being hunted. That something was pursuing her, relentlessly, through the woods.
She couldn’t afford to stop for an instant. Her enemy was there, threatening to overwhelm her.
Suddenly, she saw a shadow, spilling in front of her. And then she felt it. Darkness, like cloying smoke, drifting around her. She screamed. The shadow was about to consume her.
She looked down. She was no longer wearing her dirty and torn gown. She was naked, covered in the blue symbols, that she had painted on herself, back at Coirecrag. The symbols that she had painted on herself for Domhnall.
A power swept through her and with its light, she knew now that she was the goddess. She knew that the symbols that covered her were giving her the power to fight off her enemy. She grew taller, taller than the trees, as the light coursed through her, shooting out of the tips of her fingers.
And that was when she saw him. Domhnall. He was down there, in the forest, battling the shadow. She saw the glint of his raised sword, as he prepared to strike.
“No!” she screamed, desperately leaning down, to try to stop him. “No, you will be killed!”
But Domhnall didn’t hear her. He didn’t even turn his head to look at her. He lunged forward toward the shadow.
She screamed. He ran forward, and the shadow consumed him entirely.
As if he had never been there. As if he had never existed at all…
It was morning; she could see the light through the thin walls of the tent. She had slept through the entire night.
Suddenly, the tent flap opened, and her guard entered, carrying a plate of food and a mug. He deposited both roughly on the ground.
“Service, lady,” he sneered. “It mightn’t be as good as you are used to, but it will have to do.”
She forced a smile onto her face, hating him. “Thank you,” she said through gritted teeth.
He smiled, exposing a row of blackened teeth. “My pleasure, lady. And the Commander has instructed that after you have broken your fast, and cleaned up, he would like to speak with you in his tent.”