“Abigale, just let me—”
She looked up at the towering beast. “If ye do no’ want to be around me than ye leave. I’m staying here.” With that, Abigale strode across the great hall and climbed the stairs to her bedchamber.
* * *
James stood dumbfounded. Every word spoken was true. Abigale had showed him more love than he deserved. Though she’d been wrong about one thing; he did desire her. From the moment he met her at the loch he knew he loved her. The problem was, she sent him spinning out of control, and he had been desperate to escape whatever bewitching spell she cast upon him.
There was no way around the matter; he had to make her listen. If he had to lock her in their bedchamber and hold her down, the lass would hear him out. He cursed himself and began to take off after his wife when someone gripped his arm. “Nay, let her go,” Alice said.
James closed his eyes. “Alice, I have to talk to her.”
“I can no’ let ye do it. If ye go after her now, ye’ll make a bigger arse out of yerself then ye have already.” Alice motioned for James to sit at a nearby table. "If there’s one thing I know, it’s when a lass needs to be alone.”
James rested his head in his hands, scrubbing the tension from his temples. “Alice, I’ve been a fool.”
“Aye, a fool in love.” Alice patted him on the shoulder and poured him a tankard of mead.
Oh, how he’d missed Alice. She always knew what to say at the right time, soothing him just like a mother would. But, step out of line, and she’d let him have it.
Alice sat beside him and rested her hands on the table in front of her. Her face grew serious. “James, ye be a good man. Dinnae let yer past spoil yer future with Princess Abigale.”
“’Tis not the past I worry about so much as my better half.” He flashed his dragon’s eyes at Alice. “She’ll never understand.”
“Aye, but did ye give her a chance? She’s a smart woman, James, and she’s good for ye, too.” She winked.
Aye, she was perfect in every way. Even when she was angry. “I need to talk to her.” James began to stand and leave when Alice clucked her tongue at him. “’Tis best ye wait until the morn, trust me words. She’s hurt, she thinks ye’re abandoning her.”
James sat back down. “Abandoning her?”
“Aye. ‘Tis not my story to tell but Abigale’s da didnae visit her much at the abbey. She told me she felt abandoned by him. So ye can see why she feels like ye’re doing the same.”
James was stunned. Instead of thinking how this would affect her, he had been too wrapped up in his own reasoning for sending her away. The look on Abigale’s face when he mentioned her da came back to him. She wanted to shut that part of her life out just like he wanted to shut out his dragon side from her.
“Alice, I’ve been a selfish, stubborn arse.”
Alice shook her head, “Ye be a Dragonkine and there’s no fault in that.” She rose. “Now, go to yer solar and think wisely about yer situation. Talk to Abigale in the morn after a good night’s rest. Trust me.” She smiled and quit the hall.
James grabbed another oatcake and then headed to the solar. Think wisely, he mused. Words never seemed to come easy for him, especially when it came to Abigale. But he had to try to make her see that indeed he wanted her to stay. He would never abandon her, ever. Even if she denied his dragon, he would always love and protect her.
14
Ye be no princess, ye’re a bastard!
Abigale slammed the bedchamber door with such force, she thought she heard the hinges crack. “Unbelievable,” she muttered as she paced the room.
She was on the verge of being abandoned again. Sent away, unwanted, and left to live alone. Her mother had left her when she died—her father had left her at the nunnery—and now, her husband wanted to send her to Bothwell. Nay, I won’t leave.
Something had changed between them in the past few days; she felt it. James wouldn’t let her out of his sight, so they had spent most of the day cuddled in bed while he healed, and Abigale caught up on sleep. His kisses felt like she was the only woman he had ever kissed, slow but with fierce need. There was something more between them and there was no denying it. Well, at least on her part.
Or, had she played the fool? Abigale’s anger grew. Was this some kind of trickery or bewitchment? Had she been too blind to see that he was a man who took what he wanted and didn’t care about anyone else? Could he be so cruel? Mayhap he would only call on her to satisfy his urges. His own personal whore.
Why was fate being so cruel? Didn’t she deserve happiness? Or mayhap she didn’t. Perhaps her destiny was to be alone. Alone and a bastard. A vision of Abbess Margaret appeared by the hearth. The raven-haired witch turned slowly to face Abigale. Her voice chilled her like ice. “Did ye actually think a man would want ye, bastard?”
Abigale back-stepped. “Nay, ye can no’ be here.” She shook with fear.
In a flash, the abbess was eye-to-eye with Abigale. “Oh, I’m real. I’ll never leave. Ye need me to remind ye of who ye truly are. A bastard,” she mocked. “If ye were a true princess, yer father wouldn’t have abandoned ye."
“Nay.” Abigale shook her head. She stood up to the wretched witch. I am the Princess of Scotland, and ye’ll treat me as such.”
“The only reason James married ye was because it was arranged by yer father. Yer father didnae want ye, so he married ye off to be done with ye. Ye be no princess, ye’re a bastard!”
“I no longer believe yer vile words.” Abigale squared her shoulders. The fear of the abbess’s deadly fist no longer frightened her. Not after she met the Boogeyman. “I am the king’s daughter and ye’ll will respect me.”
Abigale pursued Abbess Margaret toward the window. “Yer soul is full of jealousy and hatred. How can ye call yerself a godly woman?” Abigale pushed the abbesses, causing her to lose balance. The witch grabbed for Abigale as she fell out of the window.
Abigale gazed out the window excepting to find Margaret’s shattered body below. But the wretch had disappeared.
Abigale rested her hands on the edge of the widow and hung her head. Was she going mad? The abbess was never there, was she? She closed her eyes and breathed in, trying to calm herself.
The walls of Castle Black Stone were beginning to feel restrictive and her chest felt tight. She needed to leave this place. Mayhap a trip into the village would do her some good Mayhap some sweet-smelling candles would lighten her mood. Abigale grabbed her cloak and headed for the door.
Once in the corridor, she nearly missed Marcus following her. “See, I told ye he was too stubborn.”
Abigale stopped abruptly and faced Marcus. “What do ye want?”
Marcus stepped back. “Lady Abigale, please forgive my rudeness. I was just trying to lighten yer mood.”
He seemed sincere. Abigale felt horrible for snapping at him. It wasn’t his fault that his cousin was an arse. “Marcus, I’m afraid I'm in no mood for company. Please excuse me, the air is foul around here. I need some fresh air.”
They continued walking. Reaching the stairs, Abigale hurried to the great hall. Marcus would not give up, he kept following her.
“Ye know I’m a good listener, and ye look as if ye need someone to talk to.”
Nay, she needed to be away from this castle and its stubborn laird. She’d had enough of being told what to do and when she was going to do it. She was hurt, confused, and worried she might be leaving Alice and Effie.
Abigale took a deep breath. “I thank ye kindly for yer concern, but I need to be alone. I’m taking Fergus to the village.” She tried her best to smile and reassure him that she would be fine.
“The village alone—without an escort! Nay, I won’t allow it." Marcus folded his arms in front of his chest.
“Och…I'll be fine.”
“Nay, lass. Ye can no’ go alone, ‘tis no’ safe. The merchants can be ruthless. And do I need to mention the natty lads lurking around waiting to pick yer pockets. I’ll escort ye to t
he village.”
It was true. People were hungry and in need of coin.
His mouth was just inches from her ear. He whispered, “I will no’ take no for an answer.”
The sound of his deep voice made Abigale go silent. His presence alone demanded submission as though he was never denied it. Unease shivered through her.
“Good. I’ll tell the stable lad to ready the horses for us. We’ll leave shortly.” Marcus strode out of the great hall, taking all the tension with him.
Abigale blew out a pent-up breath as she made her way to the kitchens, to grab an apple for Fergus. She hadn’t ridden since she’d suffered the dreadful saddle sores. She couldn’t wait to ride.
She reached the stables and Marcus had the horses ready. “I hope ye can keep up.” She threw an extra apple at Marcus, then smiled. Aye, this was exactly what she needed. She could already feel her mood changing.
Abigale and Marcus walked by the stalls, looking at the different items for sale. Fresh air really did help clear Abigale’s mind, she felt better. And, Marcus hadn’t pushed her to talk.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a plump, older woman stepping out from behind a cart selling what looked like fresh honey. The woman approached Abigale but was quickly halted by Marcus.
“Pardon me, my lady, I want to thank ye for saving Laird Douglas.” She bowed her head and nervously wadded up her apron in her hands.
Abigale motioned for Marcus to stand down, she was no threat.
The woman lifted her head to look at Abigale. “My lady, I do no’ have expensive gifts to give, but would ye kindly accept this as a token of my gratitude?” She handed Abigale a cloth-covered object that fit in the palm of her hand.
Abigale was shocked when she opened the fabric and found a brooch. She ran her finger around the half-circle pendant tracing the knot work. The brooch was weathered and old, as though it had been passed down through generations.
“Oh, my lady, watch out for the pointy end. ‘Tis sharp,” the woman warned.
Amazed that the woman would part with such an heirloom, Abigale could not accept such a gift. “I can no—”
“The princess thanks ye kindly,” Marcus nodded to the woman.
As they walked away, Abigale felt confused as she looked over her shoulder at the woman who was now beaming.
Marcus leaned toward Abigale. “’Tis rude to decline a gift, especially when it’s a gift of thanks.”
“Marcus, she could have used this to barter for food.”
“Aye, but she wanted ye to have it.” Marcus winked at her.
It was apparent that Abigale had a lot to learn about life. Being sheltered came with its disadvantages. Clan rules hadn’t existed in her world until a few days ago. She would have felt horrible if she’d hurt the poor woman's feelings. Being naïve was going to land her in a world of trouble.
As they passed the last merchant, Abigale noticed a rundown, stone cottage with a badly woven thatch roof. Two little girls with ripped, dirty tunics were standing outside in front of a loosely hung door that banged shut with the slightest breeze. They were filthy and looked as if they hadn’t eaten or slept for days.
Before Marcus could stop her, Abigale walked up to the girls and bent down. “Where’s yer mum and da?”
The youngest girl swayed back and forth with her hands tucked behind her back. She looked down to her bare feet and shrugged her tiny shoulders. She could only be about five summers old, Abigale thought as she picked a piece of mud from the little girl’s body. The eldest girl shoved her shoulder into the little girl as if letting her know not to trust the strangers.
Abigale walked past the girls and into their home. She pushed the door open and quickly had to cover her nose from the wretched smell. “Hello! Is anyone home?”
No one answered.
Marcus followed Abigale inside and quickly covered his nose with a white linen cloth. “Bloody hell!” He stood next to Abigale as they observed the filth.
Rotten food and dirty trenchers littered a wooden table near the hearth, which was blackened with thick soot. Straw mixed with mice droppings covered the dirt floor, and in the middle of the small house lay a mud puddle. Abigale cringed at the thought that this was the only source of water for the girls.
“Who would allow such living conditions?” She shook her head.
“I dinnae know. Something is verra wrong here.” Marcus motioned for them to leave.
Abigale stepped back outside, breathing in the much-needed fresh air. The girls watched them intently, yet never said a word. Abigale’s heart broke for them. Had they been abandoned? Undoubtedly, they had been mistreated and left alone. But for how long? How could someone do such a thing? Something wasn't right there; Abigale could feel it.
“Marcus, we need to take these girls back to Black Stone. They can no stay here.”
Marcus folded his arms across his chest, glaring at the girls as if he didn’t trust this situation. “My lady, I think it’s best we leave before someone shows up."
Abigale was shocked. Her dark brows furrowed. “Ye dinnae mean to leave the girls here? We have to welcome them into our home until we figure out what happened.”
“Ye dinnae understand. If we take the girls, their parents may come looking for them. Marcus was trying to talk some sense into her.
“I will no’ leave these girls.” Abigale put her hands on her hips, tipped her chin up, and stood her ground. “Either I stay here…” God, she hoped it didn’t come to that. “Or I bring the girls back to Black Stone. As long as I’m married to the laird, we’ll take care of our people.”
Marcus ran his hand through his light brown hair in aggravation. “Fine, but ye will have to answer to yer husband, no’ me.”
Abigale smiled in victory, but it was short-lived as the ground started to rumble and screams rang out. Abigale turned to Marcus. He already palmed the hilt of his sword, ready to protect her. As if he knew what she was going to ask, he explained “Village raid. We need to get ye out of here, now!”
An orange glow lit up the sky. Flames raged as ruthless soldiers on warhorses torched homes and crops. Abigale couldn’t move. Everything was happening so fast.
Marcus stood in front of her with his hands on her shoulders and gave her a shake to get her attention. “Princess, ye must leave. There’s no time to waste.”
Something instinctual awakened and with much haste, she picked the youngest girl up, while Marcus carried the eldest. Abigale followed him to a thick, wooded area. Once they were safely away from the village, Marcus put the girl down. She quickly ran to Abigale.
“There’s no time to get back to the castle. Ye’ll have to hide here until I come back for ye.”
“Where are ye going?” Surely, he wasn’t going to leave them alone. Abigale couldn’t fight off an attacker. Was he daft?
“I’m going to alert James. Find a place to hide. I’ll be back.” Marcus headed back the way they had come.
Oh, dear Lord, what was she going to do? Her heart was racing so fast she could hear it pounding in her ears. Abigale turned around, looking in every direction, trying to find a place to hide.
These girls need yer strength, not weakness, she scolded herself. Taking a deep breath, she decided to head deeper into the forest. They came across an old yew tree with a hollowed-out trunk. A perfect place to hide. “We’ll be safe here,” she reassured the girls.
The two girls clung tightly to one another as they sat toward the back of the hollowed yew. With haste, Abigale removed her dirk and sat with the children. “Marcus will come back. I promise.” She put her arms around the girls, squeezing them tight. She kissed their heads, making sure they knew she wasn’t going to leave them.
* * *
The English garrison continued their raid with fierce determination on clan Douglas, slaughtering and burning the village. Marcus dodged a man’s broadsword, then stuck the filth in the gut as he made his way toward his horse. Abruptly, a soldier perched high upon his warhors
e stopped Marcus with his sword pointed at Marcus’s throat. He swallowed against the cold steel. Long black feathers protruded from the top of the knight’s helm and flowed down past his shoulders, whipping in the wind. Through the slit of his visor, his cold stare chilled Marcus bone-deep. “Where’s the princess, Highlander?” The knight shoved the blade deeper into Marcus’s skin, just enough to prove his point.
Marcus studied the man as if he was considering how he was going to answer. Or mayhap he was questioning his own motives.
The warhorse chomped at the bit and pawed the earth. “Well, are you going to tell me or will I have to gut you?”
Marcus looked toward the woods where he’d left Abigale and the girls, then back at the impatient knight.
The Douglas war cry broke out. Marcus readied for battle as he saw the Black Douglas and two hundred clansmen charge the garrison, defending the village.
* * *
Abigale was trying desperately to be brave, but she was just as scared as the girls. In the distance she could hear the blood-curdling cries of villagers and the faintest sounds seemed louder than they really were. They couldn’t stay hidden in there forever. What if something happened to Marcus? What if those raiders came searching for them? Nay, for the girls’ sake, she needed to find out what was going on.
“Girls, I’m going to take a look outside. I need for ye to be brave and stay here until I return,” Abigale insisted.
Tears streamed down their dirty faces as they clung to each other. The youngest shook her head.
Abigale wiped away the wee girl’s tears. “I promise I won’t be long, little lamb."
Before Abigale got up to leave, she looked down at her dirk. She couldn’t leave the girls unprotected. “Take this and dinnae be afraid to use it."
She crawled out of the trunk.
Abigale reached the tree line and peeked through a thicket of blackthorns overlooking the village. She cringed at the sound of clanking swords. Clan Douglas was fighting for their lives. Her heart told her she needed to help the wounded, but common sense told her to stay hidden and get back to the girls.
Highland Burn: Guardians of Scotland Book 1 Page 11