A Pledge of Passion to the Highlander

by Maddie MacKenna

  “Of course.” She gazed at him steadily. “Whatever the Commander wants. But I will need water…”

  He stared at her witheringly. “Do you think me a fool, lady? The water will come after you have eaten.” He paused. “Well, what are you waiting for? I do not have all day.”

  Her face burning, she grabbed the plate and mug. The food tasted like ashes in her mouth, but she knew that she must eat to keep up her strength. To deal with whatever difficulties she must now face.

  But in her heart, all she could see was Domhnall, as he had been in the dream, with his raised sword. As he had walked into the shadow, and it had consumed him entirely.

  Fear coursed through her blood, turning it to ice. Was it an omen? Was her beloved in danger?

  Commander Howard was sitting at the table, frowning, as he gazed down at some documents in his hand. He didn’t even look up when the soldier brought Roseann into the tent, nor did he acknowledge her in any way.

  Roseann waited, studying the man covertly. He had thin lips, which were pursed slightly, as he perused his work. Her heart started to beat faster. What caused a man to do what he did? How could he destroy entire villages, without compunction?

  After five minutes, he abruptly looked up, as if he had just realized that she was there. Roseann knew it for the act it was. He had been forcing her to wait for his own reasons. Probably as a subtle reminder of who held the power here.

  “Miss Gibson.” He stood up. “You are looking a little more refreshed than when we spoke last night. I trust you have been treated well?”

  She nodded cautiously. “Well enough. Commander Howard, I really must insist that I leave your camp…”

  He smiled slightly. “Come now, that is premature. Please, sit down.” He gestured towards another chair at the table. “I will send for refreshments while we talk again.”

  Fearfully, she nodded, taking the seat. Her heart was in her mouth.

  “Hart,” he called to the soldier. “Some ale, if you please, and two mugs.” The soldier nodded, leaving to do his bidding.

  “Now,” he said, sitting down, staring at her intently. “You claim that you were visiting friends in…Glasgow, I think you said?”

  She nodded, clearing her throat. “Yes. Dear family friends who live north of the border. I have been staying with them for an extended period.”

  He nodded. “I see. I know Glasgow well. What part of the city do your friends live in?”

  Roseann stared at him, her heart pounding harder. “Oh, they do not live in the city,” she said, thinking furiously. “They live not far from it. On their country estate.”

  The tent flap opened, and the soldier walked in with a jug of ale and two mugs, placing them on the table. Howard carefully poured them both a mug, passing one to her. He stared at her over the rim of his own mug.

  “Why are you here?” she blurted, trying to distract him from his line of questioning. “Why are you in this part of Scotland?”

  He looked surprised. “Why, I am merely doing my duty, madam,” he replied slowly. “I am an officer of King Edward, and he requires me to keep the peace along the border. Surely, being an English lady who lives so close to the border, you would know all about the troubles that beset this area?”

  “I know them,” she said, taking a sip of her ale. It tasted bitter. “I also know that no soldier under King Edward has the right to pillage Scottish villages with impunity, sir.”

  He paled slightly, placing down his mug. His icy blue eyes slightly glittered as he beheld her. “You have been listening to stories,” he said slowly. “The Scots always think that we are too heavy-handed, but I do assure you, lady, that we only do what is required.”

  “Were you required to destroy Keelieock?” she blurted, her anger rising. “I know all about what happened there, Commander. I also know that you showed no mercy to the townsfolk.” She stared at him, contemptuously. “The village had done nothing to deserve it. You viciously attacked it.”

  He smiled faintly. “My good lady, the Scots deserve everything that they get and more. They are a barbaric race, heathens at heart, and it is my duty to do everything in my power to crush them.” He gazed at her steadily. “I must say, I am surprised that an English lady is defending Scots. You have sympathy for them and their cause, then?”

  Her face darkened. It had probably been a tactical error to mention Keelieock and the fact she was aware of his crimes there, but it was all that she could do to not spit in the man’s face, so great was her anger.

  “You despise the Scots,” she said slowly. “Why? What have they ever done to you? They are just people, the same as you and I. They deserve the right to live in peace, the same as the English!”

  He gazed at her scornfully. “You are ignorant, lady. The Scots are a scourge on our isle!” He smiled faintly. “I am entitled to do exactly as I please, to make sure that they are kept in their place. They are not pet dogs, madam, that you can pet and throw a bone to occasionally and think that will satisfy them. If they are not crushed, they will turn and destroy us…”

  “You are wrong,” she cried desperately. “So wrong! They only desire to live in peace!” She stared at him, trying to calm herself.

  There was no use speaking to him about it. His attitudes were set, and Commander Eric Howard would not be swayed in his murderous quest.

  “Please,” she said slowly. “What do you want with me? I need to return to my home…”

  He stood up. “Yes. Your home.” He drained his mug. “You have told me the truth, at least, about who you are and where you are from.” He paused. “And I want nothing from you, lady. But you have not been honest about why you have been in Scotland. And there is someone here who is very interested in waylaying you…”

  Roseann stared at him as he walked to the tent flap, pulling it open. He gestured for someone to approach.

  The next minute, she watched in stunned disbelief as Lady Sineag Crannach walked through the tent flap, standing beside the English soldier.

  “What?” she whispered in horror. “I do not understand…”

  Lady Sineag smiled. “Aye, there is a lot ye do not understand, Roseann Gibson.” She paused. “And here ye are again, like a bad smell, that just keeps on reappearing.”

  32

  Roseann rose to her feet, appalled to find that her legs were shaking. She barely knew how she was able to stand.

  Lady Sineag walked further into the tent, brushing past Commander Howard, who gazed at her intently. The lady tossed her long auburn hair back, smiling at him coquettishly.

  Roseann watched it all, feeling like someone had just punched a fist into her stomach.

  She is in league with him, she thought, in astonishment. This Scottish noble lady, who is betrothed to the Laird of Greum Dubh, is consorting with the enemy!

  “Ye look like a fish that has just been pulled from the water,” said Lady Sineag tartly. “And I afraid now that is just what yer fate is, lady. I gave ye a chance to run away, but here ye are, right in the thick of it…”

  Roseann’s shock was abating, and now she was consumed with a wave of fierce and terrible anger.

  “Why?” she whispered, staring at the woman. “Why are you working for your enemy?”

  “That is none of yer business,” spat the other woman, circling her. “Ye are a nosy thing, ye ken. I have my reasons which are very good…”

  “You are Scottish,” said Roseann, appalled. “You are betraying your own country, your own land, by being with this…this…. brute!”

  “On the contrary,” said Lady Sineag, her blue eyes glittering fiercely. “I am doing what I am for my land. Ye know nothin’ about it, Miss Roseann Gibson, of Loughton Hall. Ye know nothin’ about what we are prepared to do to protect our lands.”

  Commander Howard smiled indulgently as if he was witnessing a particularly interesting conversation at a dinner party.

  “I will leave you to it, my dear,” he said airily. “You can inform our guest about what is to h
appen. I think you will get more satisfaction from it than I will.”

  Lady Sineag smiled. “Aye. I will tell ye all about it.”

  Commander Howard bowed mockingly to Roseann. “Lady. I take your leave.” Without another word, he walked out of the tent.

  “Why were you so eager to be rid of me?” asked Roseann in a trembling voice. “Are you planning to marry Domhnall at all? Or is the betrothal just a ruse for something?”

  Lady Sineag laughed. “The Laird of Greum Dubh has his uses, ye ken? I had to insist that he formally announce our betrothal.” She paused. “As to getting rid of ye, that was just par for the course. I daenae like a woman hanging around gaining power when I must have it myself, ye ken.”

  “You do not care for him in the least,” said Roseann slowly, her lips trembling. “Are you even planning to become his wife, or is there another agenda? Who is Howard to you?”

  But Lady Sineag merely laughed. “I will nae reveal what my plans are to ye, so ye should stop askin’.” She gazed at Roseann curiously. “How did ye get here? Did ye come as a spy for Domhnal? Is that it?”

  Roseann stared at her. “You sent me away, remember? You made me leave Coirecrag in the middle of the night without informing anyone!” She took a deep breath. “I took a wrong turn in the dark and ended up in Crisdean. I know what happened there, lady. I know what your friend did to all those poor village folks!”

  Lady Sineag threw back her head, laughing. “I daenae care about Crisdean, or Keelieock, or any other village on Greum Dubh lands! The only villages I care about are the ones that reside on Lios lands, ye ken.” She stopped laughing suddenly. “As I said, I will do anythin’ to protect my own lands…”

  Roseann stared at the woman, mystified. She knew that Lady Sineag Crannach was a nasty piece of work – the woman had forced her to leave Coirecrag by threatening her family, after all. She was cold and calculating, and absolutely single-minded about getting what she wanted, at any cost. Up until now, Roseann had assumed that what she wanted was the Laird of Greum Dubh and to be the Lady of that clan. But now, it was all topsy turvy.

  The woman had just admitted that she cared not a whit about the villages of Greum Dubh. She didn’t care if they were burned or pillaged. She didn’t care if the menfolk were killed and the women taken as whores. She didn’t care in the slightest.

  Roseann kept staring at her, fearfully, as if she were watching a snake that might turn and bite at any given moment. The Lady Sineag had another plan, by being with Howard, and consorting with the English renegades. But what was it?

  She must be crazy, thought Roseann darkly. The Laird of Lios would never countenance what she is doing. He is a Laird, a proud Scot. She must be going behind his back to be here.

  Roseann blinked rapidly, trying to work it out. Was it coin? Had the woman sold herself to the English commander to buy herself new gowns and jewelry? But Lios was prosperous. She had seen how richly dressed Lady Sineag always was. No, it couldn’t be that. But what?

  “You realize what these soldiers do to the women, don’t you?” she asked slowly, staring at the lady, who was still calmly standing there. “You realize that they take them when they raid these villages and keep them as whores? These women are your Scottish sisters. How can you be here and see what is being done to them?”

  Lady Sineag smiled slightly. “They are Greum Dubh women and more than likely whores anyway.” Her smile widened. “They may as well spread their legs for the English as for the Scots, ye ken.”

  Roseann gasped. “So, is that what it is about, then?” She was thinking furiously. “You hate Greum Dubh? You desire to see it destroyed?”

  Lady Sineag’s face twisted slightly. “Ye ken little about Scotland, do ye, lady? Nay, of course, ye dinnae. Ye are English.” She took a deep breath. “Every piece of Scotland is carved up and ruled by a particular clan. We have been battlin’ our borders for centuries. It is called clan warfare.”

  Roseann frowned. “But the clans can be allies as well as enemies. The late Laird of Greum Dubh made a pact with your own father. They are allies, are they not?”

  Lady Sineag laughed bitterly. “Sometimes the clans are allies; sometimes they are enemies. It all depends on what is happenin’ around us. We chop and change as circumstances dictate.” She took a deep breath. “It is the way it has always been. Aye, we are all Scots, but firstly we are clan. Do ye understand now?”

  Roseann sighed deeply. “I understand that the clans can be enemies. But Greum Dubh looked to Lios in good faith. A pact was signed.” She stared hard at the woman. “You are going behind your own father’s back! You are betraying him, as well as Domhnall.”

  But Lady Sineag simply stared back at her. She didn’t speak.

  “You have a common enemy,” Roseann pleaded, trying to appeal to the woman’s conscience. Surely, she must have some conscience, deep down? She couldn’t be consumed totally by hatred…could she?

  The woman’s mouth was set in a grim line. But were there tears, glimmering on the surface of her eyes?

  Suddenly, she gasped. Maybe she had got it all wrong. Maybe it wasn’t hate that motivated Lady Sineag. Maybe it was love.

  She had seen the look she had exchanged with Howard before he had left the tent. Had the woman simply fallen in love with the English soldier, against the odds? Had she sacrificed her home, her country, and her very life to run away to be with him?

  If that were the case, then she would have to justify it in any way that she could. She would have to claim that she didn’t care what happened to the villages in Greum Dubh. She would have to convince herself that she didn’t. Otherwise, how else could she explain why she was here, and what she was doing?

  Roseann sighed deeply. But regardless of what the woman’s motivations were in being here, the fact remained that she was still being held against her will.

  “Lady Sineag,” she said slowly and carefully. “Your reasons for being here are your own business, when all is said and done. I am no threat to you. Will you please ask the Commander to release me, so that I may be on my way?”

  The woman stared at her, hard. And then she started laughing again.

  “Ye are not to be released,” she replied sharply. “Ye have another fate entirely, Roseann Gibson. I ken exactly what ye would do if ye left here. Ye would return straight to Coirecrag and inform the Laird…”

  “I promise I will not,” Roseann entreated, her heart pounding hard. “If you release me, I will return to Loughton Hall, exactly as we agreed…”

  Lady Sineag’s face twisted. “Do ye think me a fool? Ye are in love with the man! Ye couldnae stay away from him, even if ye wanted to.” She took a deep breath. “Nay, we all must do what we must. Yer fate is written in the stars, now…”

  Roseann felt a chill coursing through her. What did the woman mean?

  Suddenly, Lady Sineag walked to the tent flap, pulling it back. “Guards! The prisoner is ready to be taken.”

  The guards came in. One of them held rope in his hands. The other held a large rag.

  “No,” said Roseann, backing away and staring at them in horror. “No! I am an English citizen, and you are soldiers of England! You must not hold me captive when I have done nothing to warrant it!”

  But she might as well have saved her breath. The soldiers advanced on her, grabbing her. One of them bound her wrists behind her back, while the other stuffed the rag into her mouth, gagging her.

  “Take her away,” said Lady Sineag, in a bored voice. “We will deal with her later when we have time.”

  The soldiers grabbed her, pushing her towards the entrance of the tent. Desperately, she twisted, trying to free herself. But they held her fast. There was no use in even wasting the energy.

  She stared at the woman as she passed her. Her eyes burned with hatred. She felt consumed by it, as if it was infecting her very blood, burning to the very core. Lady Sineag’s blue eyes were cold as they stared back.

  They didn’t take her back to the tent wh
ere she had slept the night before. This time, they took her up the hill and away from the camp. Their faces were grim.

  Fear consumed her again. What were they going to do to her? Where were they taking her?

  But suddenly, she saw it. Suddenly, she knew. Her skin crawled in sheer horror.

  There was a large cage sitting on the hillside. It had black rails. A cage so large that it obviously was used for people. For outlaws or criminals, or prisoners…like herself.

  She twisted violently, trying to scream. But the gag in her mouth muted her completely. She heard herself making futile noises. The guards utterly ignored her distress, pushing her harder up the hill, until they were standing next to it.