“I know that ye’re hiding something, so spit it out and be quick about it. Yer sister could die out in a storm like this, or the men that go to find her could be injured. Is that what ye want if she is not even actually out there? To send yer father’s men on a pointless search on such a hellish night?”
Brigid considered him for a moment before jerking her head toward the door. “Make sure they are both gone,” she told him.
Liam hesitated then slowly released her and went to check outside the door.
“We are alone,” he told her. “Now what do ye know?”
“I dinna know where my sister is, I dinna lie about that. I swear it. I just… I was not sure if I should tell ye what I do know.”
Liam wanted to strangle the girl for wasting time playing games.
“I suggest ye speak up and tell me before I lose what little patience I have left with yer scheming family.”
Brigid took a step toward him with her hands clenched into tight shaking fists at her side. Her pale face was bright red in anger, complimenting her deep flaming auburn hair.
“Did it ever occur to ye that Catriona may be just as unhappy about the situation as ye obviously are?” she demanded.
“Is that so?” he snorted. Catriona may not have been thrilled at the thought of being married to him, but it was highly unlikely that she could be as unhappy about it as he was, especially now in the light of her father’s obvious treachery. He had believed that she wanted them to find happiness. But perhaps acting had been her true talent, and not painting after all.
“She told us, ye ken? The truth of what happened to her. That she was attacked by some flea-ridden drunkard in the hall, and that ye sheltered her until she felt safe enough to leave. She thought ye her hero. I could see it in her face, the way she spoke of ye. My sister is gentle and kind. Much more gentle and kind than I’ve ever been,” she said with a light snorting laugh. “She was so horrified to have put ye in the position of having to wed her, yer only crime being nothing more than showing her kindness. She told us that she begged our da to see reason, but he would not. She was forbidden to speak the truth to anyone.”
Brigid glared at Liam with disgust and hatred burning in her eyes. “We cannot even find the man that truly meant her harm and bring him to justice, because that would be admitting that our father played ye false as a means to his own ends. All Cat wanted to do was be a good wife to ye, to show ye that even though ye didn’t want to wed her, ye would not spend the rest of yer days regretting it. And now here ye are. Barging into our home with threats of war and unfounded accusations. Is this what ye have shown my sister in the short time she was with ye? This hatred and distrust? This disgust for her?” she spat. “And ye wonder why she would run from ye? Why she would seek out her family to protect her from such unwarranted bile!”
Before Liam could blink, Brigid lashed out and slapped him across the face with all of the strength she could muster. His cheek burned hot with pain where she had connected, but he did not move, for her words had rooted him to the spot.
“I dinna know what my father is up to, but I do know that Aileen and I are just as much at his mercy as Catriona is. She had nothing to do with anything, anything that my da may be a part of. But I will promise ye this. If my sister dies out there because yer cruelty drove her to run from ye, I will lay the blame of her death squarely at yer feet Liam MacDonell, and there will be a reckoning.”
Brigid stormed out of the library and slammed the door shut behind her, leaving Liam alone with his regret and shame.
* * *
The hour was late as Liam sat by the roaring fire in Laird Drummond’s library. He held a thick wool blanket wrapped snugly around his shoulders and stretched his long legs out towards the flames. The muscles in his calves and thighs ached from the hours of riding he had done that night in search of Catriona alongside of Laird Drummond’s men. He flexed and curled the toes of his bare feet, placing them as close to the flames as he could without burning the skin of his soles. His sopping-wet socks lay flat next to his feet directly in front of the fire, and alongside them were a second pair of wet socks belonging to none other than Laird Drummond himself.
Liam looked down at the glass he held and gazed into the clear rich amber liquid. He took a sip of the whiskey, trying to savor how smooth it was, a delicate blend of smoke and honey. A bottle of it had been brought up from his host’s personal collection, but he could not enjoy the complexity of flavors nor the warmth it made in the pit of his stomach after he had spent the last three hours outside searching for Catriona.
Liam looked over at Laird Drummond and took note of the drawn, tired expression on his face. The man stared deep into the fire and the light from the flames illuminated the worry lines that were etched deep into his forehead. The man looked as though he had aged a decade in that evening. His square powerful shoulders were hunched over in defeat and his burdens clouded his eyes.
Liam looked away, afraid that he would drown in the guilt that he had been mired in ever since Brigid had spoked to him. He could not deny that she had been right. Liam had driven Catriona to this, and now, because of his suspicion and short temper with her, his wife could very well pay for her freedom from him with her life.
“I'm sorry we did not find yer daughter, Drummond,” Liam said quietly. Even as he spoke the words they sounded unworthy in his ears.
Laird Drummond took another large swallow of whiskey then stared down into the glass, swirling the liquid and studying it with such intensity, it was as though he were trying to divine his daughter’s whereabouts from the depths.
“When she was born, she was just a wee bit of a thing, so much smaller than her two sisters had been. I was worried that she would not make it, ye ken. That God would see fit to take her from me. But then, my sweet lass looked up at me with her big blue eyes, and she grabbed my finger so tightly. It was then I knew she was made of sterner stuff. She’s a kind heart, my wee Cat. And she is as gentle as the day is long, but she is not weak.”
Laird Drummond finished off the whiskey in his glass and then reached for the bottle with unsteady hands. The deep amber liquid sloshed over the edge from the tremors, but Catriona’s father paid them no mind.
“Three daughters,” the man whispered before downing half the glass. Laird Drummond hacked and coughed from swallowing too much of the potent liquid too quickly, but the moment his throat was clear he took another large swallow. “I have three daughters,” he repeated. “Do ye ken what it's like to have three daughters MacDonell?”
“I do not, no,” Liam replied slowly. He kept a wary eye on his host as he watched the man refill his glass once more.
“Ye must protect them, MacDonell. Ye must be prepared to do anything for them even as ye worry they will turn around and hate ye for it. Ye do it because ye believe it to be for their own good. Three daughters, MacDonell. But by the saints, I never meant for it to go this far.”
Drummond looked up from the glass and turned to him, his eyes wild and filled with sadness and regret. “They need husbands, MacDonell, and ye seemed a fine match for either of them. All I needed was for ye to take to one, just one.” Without warning, his arm lashed out and he threw his glass into the fire.
The alcohol hit the flames and ignited, causing Liam to jerk back out of harm’s way as tall flames burst out of the hearth.
“I did it,” Laird Drummond said. “I forced Catriona into marrying ye. Oh God, I've been such a fool.”
“Drummond,” said Liam slowly, his stomach filling with dread. “What exactly did ye do?”
“I made a deal with the devil, lad.” Laird Drummond shook his head. “I made a deal with the devil.”
But before Liam could ask him what he meant by that, Laird Drummond slumped back into his chair with his eyes shut and began to snore.
Chapter 18
Catriona sat staring out the window of her chamber in Macnaghten's castle. She had slept deeply the night before due to pure exhaustion, but the fea
r of what was to happen to her had led to her night being full of uneasy dreams. No one had come to see or speak to her since she had been whisked away and her stomach was beginning to ache with hunger. The sun had long been up and though she was grateful for the solitude of not having her every movement watched as they had been on the journey here, she was beginning to wonder if they had simply forgotten about her.
She had laid her gown out to dry throughout the night but it was still damp the next morning. Putting it on had been incredibly uncomfortable, and as Catriona sat in the cold damp fabric, she cursed herself for ever leaving Invergarry. Maybe if she had just waited a little longer, she would have been able to find a way to talk some sense into Liam. Not that any of that mattered now. She had been wrong all along. For all of her championing of her father's innocence, there was no denying that he most likely did have something to do with Liam's troubles. If her father was willing to force Liam to marry her based on a lie, then it stood to reason he was capable of sending the reavers to plague his land. Even if this Macnaghten decided to release her, Catriona was not sure if she could go back to Drummond Castle now. If her father’s actions had put her in this danger, how would she ever be able to look him in the eye again, let alone forgive him for what he had done both to her and to Liam. People had lost their lives and their homes. What could possibly be worth all of the pain he may have caused? She had to know the truth. What was going on here?
The sound of a key in the lock of her chamber door startled her from her thoughts and Catriona turned in her chair to see the portly figure of Laird Macnaghten fill the doorway.
“Lady Drummond, good morning,” he said with a low bow.
All traces of the rage she had seen in him the night before had been erased, and in its place were the refined manners that Catriona had been raised to expect from a man of his station. Catriona eyed the man with uncertainty. She did not trust him nor his pleasant mood, but felt it would be wiser for her if she played along.
“Good morning, Laird Macnaghten,” she stood to greet him with the air of a welcome guest. “Please forgive my appearance. I have had a very long and harried journey, and I arrived without a proper change of clothes.”
Macnaghten looked aghast, but Catriona did not miss the look of glee that flashed in his eye. “I am so sorry, my dear. There was supposed to be a gown brought for ye early this morning. Are ye telling me that it never arrived? It was to be here with yer breakfast.”
“I regret to inform ye that there was no gown, nor breakfast brought to me this morning.”
Macnaghten walked toward her, his eyes trailing over the dirt and water stains of her ruined gown. He reached out and pressed the palm of his hand lightly to her forearm before brushing the dirt off on his plaid. “Unforgivable. Completely unforgivable. And to think,” he said with a disapproving shake of his head, “ye've been forced to sit here in this damp rag all morning. Ye must be starving as well. No doubt yer used to much finer things. I ken that Laird Drummond spares no expense on his daughters. I'm sure that all three of ye are used to being spoiled by the man. I had a daughter once too, ye ken. Aye, she was the prettiest lass in all the highlands, and I loved her more than my own life. She was precious to me. But she's gone now.” Macnaghten shook himself and smiled an empty smile at Catriona. His small round eyes were void of any joy, and all she felt as she stared back into them was a cold emptiness that sent a familiar unsettling feeling racing down her spine. “I will be sure food and a fresh gown is brought to ye right away.”
With that, Laird Macnaghten turned and left the room.
Catriona waited patiently for the food and gown to arrive but they did not. Minutes slipped into hours and soon half the day had gone by without another person coming by. Macnaghten did not seem like the kind of man that would be very forgiving of his servants that did not follow his orders to the letter, which made Catriona wonder if he had told them to see to her at all. Late afternoon slipped into early evening and Catriona heard the key in the lock once more.
But this time it was not Macnaghten come to visit her but the same young girl that had opened the doors of the keep to them the night before.
“Pardon the interruption Lady Catriona, but I was told to bring ye yer dinner.”
“Thank ye,” Catriona told her politely. “What's yer name?”
“Anne,” She said quietly.
“Thank ye very much, Anne,”
The girl looked up at her with fear in her eyes and whispered. “I dinna know if ye should be thanking me. What I bring ye is not fit for man nor beast. I dinna know what ye've done to make Laird Macnaghten so angry at ye, be unless yer starving I would not touch this unless I had no choice.”
The girl removed the cloth from the plate of food and Catriona glanced down at it. The small slice of cheese was almost completely covered in mold, and the vegetables were rotten with black pits on them. Th slab of meat was grey and spotted, and the whole thing gave off a foul odor when she bent near.
“Oh!” Catriona covered her nose with her sleeve and turned away.
“Please take it away,” she told the girl.
The young maid nodded and covered the plate once more.
“Why is he doing this to me?” Catriona asked as the maid left for the door.
“I dinna know, but he has been in a rage ever since ye showed up last night. He is not the kind of man ye want to have angry at ye.” The girl hesitated a moment and then reached into her pocket. In a flash she threw something to Catriona, and Catriona snatched it out of the air. It was a soft fresh chunk of bread.
“I saved it from my own supper. Hurry and eat it before ye're caught otherwise I'll get the lash.”
“Anne,” she said softly, awed that the young girl would risk such a punishment for her.
“Whatever ye do, dinna anger him,” the girl reminded her, before hurrying out the door and locking it behind her.
Catriona ate the bread quickly and stripped out of her gown and down to her shift. She no longer had any illusions that a clean gown would be coming for her that evening. The gown was mostly dry now at any rate. Catriona crawled into bed and curled up in a tight ball and willed herself to sleep.
Chapter 19
It was late morning the day after the search by the time the last of the rain finally stopped. When Catriona still had not arrived at the castle that morning, Laird Drummond called his men together to form a second search party.
The men split up into small groups in order to cover more ground. Traveling to the nearby crofts, they knocked on every door they came across, asking if anyone had seen Laird Drummond’s daughter or sheltered her from the storm, but it was to no avail. Not a single person had seen her.
Dread crept into Liam’s heart, and he begun to fear the worst. With there being no sign of Catriona in any of the homes near the castle, the men widened their search. Liam rode for half the day on the road back toward Invergarry, looking for any sign of her, but she was nowhere to be found.
The sun was setting by the time he made it back to Drummond Castle. His body was weary from the long day’s ride, but more than that, his heart was heavy with worry. Guilt and burning shame gnawed relentlessly on his insides, and he did not know how he would be able to look Catriona’s father and sisters in the eye.
Laird Drummond may have forced his hand when it came to marrying his daughter, but Catriona had been as innocent as he in the situation. She had tried to tell him so, but he had not wanted to believe it. And even after they had begun to grow closer, he had doubted her and betrayed her confidence and the first opportunity he had to prove himself worthy of her love.
And now she could be dead or injured somewhere, unable to call out for help. He wanted to hit something. Beat his hands against the stone walls of the keep until they bled, but it would do nothing to help Catriona, and very little to ease the turmoil inside of him.
Liam could hear the low murmuring sounds of conversation coming from the great hall. It was nothing like the booming joyo
us laughter and cheer that had filled the room the first time he had dined there two weeks ago. By now every castle inhabitant knew that Catriona was missing. It was no surprise that the news wore heavily on all of their hearts.
Liam stood in the doorway and looked at the sea of sullen distraught faces seated at the long rows of tables. There was not a single smile among them. He glanced up at the head table to see Laird Drummond looking sullenly down into his cup, the food in front of him completely ignored. Aileen was attempting to speak with her sister but Brigid was not looking at her, instead, she was looking at Liam, and the accusation in her eyes burned into him, filling him with a shame so acute that he had to look away.
Thinking better of entering the room, Liam had turned to leave when he heard heavy footsteps as someone ran down the hall.
“Laird MacDonell!” called the young stable boy who had taken the care of his horse when he arrived back at the castle. “Lady Catriona,” the boy panted, “her mare has just come back to the stable.”
“She’s here?” Liam asked, grabbing the boy by the shoulders. “Is she all right?”
The young boy shook his head. “She is not here sir, only her horse. I must tell Laird Drummond right away.”
“Come on, then,” said Liam, pushing the boy gently ahead of him into the hall.
The boy ran down the length of the tables as fast as his slender legs would carry him and dropped a quick low bow at the foot of the head table.
“Laird Drummond,” the boy said, struggling to catch his breath. “Lady Catriona’s horse just came back to the stable, but she was not on it. The horse does not appear to be injured, but it was loaded down with a pack of supplies. In it was a bit of food and what looked to be a man’s shirt. I came to tell ye as soon as I saw.”
“A man’s shirt? Are ye certain lad?” Laird Drummond asked.
Highland Promise: The Daughters of Clan Drummond Page 12