by Terry Spear
Good. Now would be a perfect opportunity for Maili to tell him what an idiot he was… well, not in those words, but something close to it.
When she entered the library and closed the door, Elrick turned from the fireplace. "Why did you act like a madwoman during supper?" he demanded.
"What?" She halted abruptly, surprised at his blunt question. "I did not."
"You jumped up and fled as if you feared our cousins."
"Nay, 'twas not that. I do not fear them."
"What then?" Elrick's frown remained in place.
"Naught." Maili could think of no convenient lie to cover her odd behavior. In the past, several of Maili's premonitions had come to pass, but because she'd kept most of her visions secret—to avoid being ridiculed—she had no proof. In her visions, she had perceived that if something changed, the outcome would change too.
"I will have an explanation from you now," he ordered.
She stiffened her spine. "Very well. If you wish the truth, I had a vision."
He rolled his eyes and blew out a long breath. "You ken I don't believe in that rubbish. What sort of vision did you have this time?"
"We're going to be attacked. You should not be holding Master MacKenzie for ransom."
"Why would the MacKenzie chief endanger his brother's life by attacking? He has more gold and silver than he can spend in his lifetime. He will not miss a few thousand pounds. Aside from that, my men are highly trained."
"Regardless, our clan will suffer greatly from this attack. Many MacDonalds will be killed."
"Are you questioning my leadership skills, my training skills?" he growled.
"Nay, 'tis only—"
"I want to hear no more about it! You will act like a normal woman from now on or you will regret it."
Chapter 4
The next morn, Shamus heard light footfalls padding down the stone steps along with the clunking ones of the guard who carried a torch. Was Maili coming to visit him? He sat up and waited, happy when her sweet face came into view. He was surprised he could discern her footsteps from others.
He arose to meet her at the iron bars. The pain in his body had diminished considerably, though his injured shoulder and the lump on his head were still sore. Still, he hardly felt them, for the grin Maili tried to hide captured his full attention.
After the guard secured the torch in the sconce, he disappeared up the steps. Coming forward, Maili handed Shamus a cloth bundle and the scent of warm bread and something sweet and buttery reached his nose. It smelled luscious.
"Mmm, what treat do you have for me this morn, Lady Maili?"
She tried to hide her smile but he caught it, along with the twinkle in her eye. He thought 'haps she liked him a wee bit—he hoped—despite his battered face. At least the swelling in his eye had shrunk a great deal.
He unwrapped the parcel to find two warm buttery scones filled with wild strawberry preserve. He did not think her brother knew of her squandering such valuable food on a prisoner. With relish, he bit into the confection, the likes of which had no equal. He moaned in pleasure at the mouthwatering flavor. He ate slowly, savoring each morsel, while feasting his eyes upon Lady Maili's lovely face. He would swear she was blushing, though 'twas difficult to tell in the dimness… and she seemed hesitant to meet his gaze.
Though this imprisonment was one of the worst experiences of his life, he treasured these fleeting moments with Maili. She would never know how much her visits meant to him.
He swallowed the last bite. "'Twas the most delicious thing I have thus far tasted." But he had a feeling her lips would be far more delectable… if he ever had an opportunity to kiss her.
"Our cook has no equal."
"Indeed. So, who are your visitors?" he asked, curious since last night about whether the newcomers were friends or foes of the MacKenzies and whether they might help him gain his freedom.
"Distant MacDonald cousins from Isle of Skye."
"Sleat?" he guessed.
She lifted a brow. "How did you know?"
Disappointment engulfed him. "Our clan's castle, Teasairg, is not too far from Isle of Skye and Sleat's holdings." The MacKenzies tolerated Sleat. That was the extent of it. No fondness existed between them. The MacKenzies were always vigilant about a potential attack from their neighbor. And they would certainly be of no help to him here.
"I brought your ale in this wine bottle. 'Twas the only thing convenient about. The kitchen servants are in a stew with all the guests." She removed the cork and handed the bottle to him. He took it, unable to believe she would give him something he could easily use as a weapon. She wasn't daft, so… did she trust him that much? If that was the case, he was thrilled. He turned up the bottle and took a long swallow.
After glancing behind herself, she moved closer and whispered, "I wish there was something I could do to help."
He searched her face. 'Twas too much to hope for. "What do you mean?"
She fidgeted. "I… I don't know. I only know that my brother should not be holding you prisoner."
"I most heartily agree, but why do you say that?"
"You are not a bad man or an outlaw."
He suppressed a smile. Of course he wasn't, but how did she know that? They had talked a few times, but she barely knew him. Could he trust her?
"My brother is going to bring destruction to our clan unless…" She snapped her lips shut and glanced down.
"Unless what?"
She shook her head. "Elrick said he will ask a high ransom for you because your brother has plenty of funds. I told him 'twas a mistake to ask for any ransom."
Shamus was stunned for a moment. "Indeed?"
She nodded.
"You are a brave lass to speak so to the chief."
She shrugged. "My brother has been daft the whole of his life."
Shamus tried to lift a brow, but it hurt too much. He suddenly found himself wanting to know more about her and her family. "Do you have more brothers? Sisters?"
"Aye, I have another older brother who is a year younger than Elrick."
"Is he daft as well?"
"Nay." She frowned and a shadow passed behind her eyes. "He is…" She shook her head. "I shouldn't speak of it."
"Why? Does he live?"
Maili's troubled gaze met his. "Aye, as far as I know, but he left the clan."
"Why?"
"I know not the entire story." She glanced away.
He had to keep her talking somehow, get her to trust him. Then, mayhap she would help him… if she knew more about him. Although… he still felt conflicted about putting her in danger. "I have four brothers and a sister," he said. "I'm the middle one."
"'Tis a large family, larger than mine at least. Do all of you live at your clan's castle?"
"Aye, all except for my sister, Isobel. She married the MacKay chief last year and they live on the north coast."
"I wish I had a sister," Maili said wistfully. Had she been lonely as the only girl? "What are your brother's names?"
"Cyrus is the oldest, then Dermott. Fraser is three years younger than I am, and Liam is the youngest." He wanted to tell her that Fraser had been in the galley wreck with him, but he was still unsure whether he could trust her entirely. If she happened to tell her brother, he might send men out looking for Fraser and the rest of the crew. He prayed Fraser was alive and well. Dermott, too, of course. He missed them both. He had to find his way out of the dungeon as soon as possible so he could search for them.
"Are they all married?" she asked.
"Nay, none of them are as of yet."
"Why?"
"Well, Cyrus should be the one getting married first," Shamus said. "After all, he's the Lord of Kintail and the chief. He will need an heir. He's been contemplating his options for a couple of years. He wants to secure the best possible clan alliance. I'm thinking he is hoping for an earl's daughter."
"I see."
"Dermott is second in command and the tanist. He has no reason to marry at the mome
nt." Nor did Shamus or his other two brothers. Fraser and Liam were both too young anyway, still sowing their wild oats. Fraser in particular chased after every pretty lass he caught sight of.
"Elrick is the same, hoping to marry and obtain a beneficial clan alliance."
Shamus nodded. "What of your clan's council? Do they support your brother's decisions?"
"The elders disagree with him about holding you hostage. I overheard them discussing it in secret."
Shamus saw a glimmer of hope. "Mayhap you could talk to them and see if they would sway his decision."
She watched him with trepidation. "I will try, but they rarely listen to me. What will your brother do when he learns of your capture?"
Shamus didn't wish to frighten the lass, so he wouldn't tell her the whole truth. Cyrus could be volatile, as well as cold and ruthless when one of his family members or friends was threatened. Who knew what he would do?
"To be honest, I don't ken. He's unpredictable," Shamus said.
"Well… I ken." She dropped her gaze. "I have seen."
Perplexed, Shamus frowned. "What have you seen? Have you met my brother?"
"Nay." She stepped away from the bars. "I must go now."
"Wait." Did she have the sight? He remembered that her brother's men had called her a witch when they'd first brought him in. "Are you a witch?" he asked.
She frowned. "Nay! I am not." She turned and hastened up the stairs.
Hell, now he had made her angry.
"Pray pardon," he whispered to the echoes of her retreating footsteps. He hadn't meant to insult her. He respected those who had second sight and thought it must be a grand gift.
She was an unusual lass, one such as he'd never met before. What had she meant? Had she seen into the future?
In his hand, he still held the wine bottle containing a bit of ale. He drained it and imagined the bottle as a weapon. Aye, 'twould be a good one.
***
"I would have the bottle back, if you don't mind," Maili said the next day when she brought Shamus his midday meal. Blast him! He had called her a witch. Was he like everyone else?
He moved to the bars. One of his eyes was still a wee bit swollen. But by torchlight, she could now see that his eyes were a rich gleaming brown and that he was a most beautiful man, despite the bruises which remained on his face.
"Maili, I'm sorry I asked if you were a witch. I meant no insult."
His words shocked her and she stepped back, searching his face. Did he mean it?
"No harm done," she muttered, wishing to change the subject as soon as possible. "About the bottle…"
"Which bottle?" The knave eyed her innocently.
Maili placed her hands upon her hips. "You know perfectly well which bottle. The one I allowed you the use of yesterday. If you do not give it back to me, I'll not bring you any more ale."
"Och. You're a brutal lass." He tried to hide his smile.
"I am not bluffing."
The corner of his lips quirked up. "I dropped it and broke it. My swollen and injured fingers, you see." He held up his hand for her inspection.
His hand didn't look injured. She narrowed her eyes and tapped her foot, not believing him for an instant. "Let me see the bottle."
"I tossed it into the corner so no one would cut themselves on it. I don't wish you to carry it. You could injure yourself."
"If the guard or my brother find out I gave it to you, they'll have my head."
His entire demeanor switched from playful to serious. "In truth? Your brother would do that?"
"Nay, probably not, but he'll lock me in my chamber and not allow me or anyone to bring you more food. And if you wish this fresh bottle of ale I brought, you'll have to give me the broken one."
He let out a long breath. "Very well. Give me a piece of cloth and I'll wrap the broken shards of glass in it. You can take it safely out that way."
She handed him an old piece of plaid. He crouched in the corner, and the pieces of glass tinkled together as he piled them onto the cloth. He had told the truth… but had he broken the bottle in order to use a shard of glass as a blade on one of the guards?
The bundle secure, he handed it to her. She then gave him the wooden bowl of warm venison stew.
He sniffed. "Nice reward." He eyed her intently. "I wish we could eat supper together at a table," he said, then took a bite.
Wishing the same, she tried not to stare at him. She was coming to appreciate his tall, lean and muscular frame. Each day the handsomeness of his face became more and more evident to her as the swelling went down and the bruising lightened.
"You are very generous to bring me venison stew." He held the wooden bowl in his hand and scooped out a large bite.
She wanted him to heal and regain his strength before his brother arrived to pay his ransom—or attack. She wasn't certain what the outcome would be. Different scenarios played out in her head each night as she tried to sleep. Sometimes she could see into the future and sometimes she could not. Much depended on the decisions of everyone around her.
"Do you like the stew?" she asked.
"Aye, 'tis delicious." With dark eyes, he observed her closely… too closely, then gave her the empty bowl.
She handed him a fresh bottle of ale through the bars.
She watched his throat work as he drank long swallows. Once the bottle was empty, he eyed it, then smiled at her.
She reached a hand through the bars. "I would have it back now." Her words were only slightly less than a demand.
"Would you now?" He raised a dark brow, a wee grin playing upon his enticing lips.
"Shamus," she warned.
"Maili." His sensual voice caressed her name in an inviting manner. He took her hand and lifted it. When his warm lips touched her skin, a shocking and thrilling tingle shot up her arm and throughout her entire body.
She jerked her hand away. What was that? Magic, a spell? Never had a man's touch sent such a startling reaction through her. Not that many men had touched her, but a few had kissed her hand.
"Do not tease me," she said, trying to regain her bearings. "You well ken you cannot keep the bottle. I've only finished telling you why. They'll not let me bring you more food."
"I'll give it to you if…"
She waited a long moment for him to finish. "If what?"
"If you give me something in return."
Heat stole over her for she suspected he might be trying to charm her, and she was not immune. 'Twould be too easy to fall under his spell. "I've already given you food. You are mighty demanding for a prisoner."
A grin quirked his lips. "There is something I want from you after I'm free."
She was afraid to ask, but she had to know. "And what is that?"
"A kiss."
Scorching heat rushed through her. How could he say such a thing to her? A kiss? Oh, aye, 'twould be a most heavenly experience.
"And, of course, I'll return the favor," he said. "I want to give you a kiss to thank you for helping me heal and for feeding me when your brother would have forgotten me down here and allowed me to starve."
"Nay," she blurted, though she wanted to grab him through the bars and kiss him now. But what if he was only attempting to charm her to get his way? She had to stay focused on her main concern—the clan and their safety.
"Nay?" he asked, lifting a brow subtly.
"Exactly. I refuse." She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to appear more resolute than she felt.
"Why?"
"If your brother is as ruthless as I'm imagining, none of us MacDonalds may be alive after he learns you're here. He may storm the place and exercise the power of fire and sword against us all."
Shamus shook his head. "He doesn't kill women and children, only armed enemy soldiers."
"Well, that's one good thing, I suppose," she whispered. Though she didn't want to see her male clansmen lying dead either.
"I wouldn't let him hurt you, regardless," Shamus said. "You are the kind of bew
itching lady a man would protect and defend until his last breath."
"Silver-tongued devil," she muttered, though his words did make her heart dance with joy.
"I speak the truth." His gaze intensified on her. "I vow, I have never seen such a lovely lass as you are, Lady Maili. 'Tis almost worth it, being in this filthy dungeon, just so I can enjoy your visits each day. You make it bearable. Otherwise, I would've already gone mad."
Her heart pounded at his words. Could she believe him?
"The only bad thing…" he said, "well, one of the bad things… is that I must smell like a beast, having been imprisoned here for days with no opportunity to bathe."
The whole dungeon smelled bad, so she had not noticed his scent. "I will have a servant bring you a bucket of water and soap," she said. "And clean clothes."
"I thank you." Shamus handed her the bottle through the bars.
She nodded, wishing she knew what to say to him. "I will send the servant." She rushed away, up the steps.
***
Secretly, Maili sent one of the kitchen servants to take Shamus a bucket of warm water, soap and a clean change of clothes. She didn't know why she hadn't thought of it earlier. Of course, he would wish to be clean, being a gentleman of his clan. She'd been far more concerned that he was fed and his wounds tended.
"Maili, I want to talk to you," her brother said in a stern voice as she crossed the great hall. Blast! Did he know of the bath and object to it? Had he heard from Shamus' brother?
"About what?" she asked.
"Come with me." Elrick led the way to his small meeting room down a short corridor off the great hall and closed the door behind them.
He turned to her and leaned against the door.
She felt trapped of a sudden. Was he blocking the door so she wouldn't try to flee the room?
"What is it?" she asked, though she was certain she wouldn't like his answer.
"I've arranged another betrothal for you."
"What? Nay. You ken I don't wish to marry." Why had her second sight not shown her this?
"I don't care what you want," Elrick said. "As is customary for the sister of a chief, your marriage will strengthen the clan."