by Jennae Vale
A mist hung over the hills and clung to the trees, making everything appear dreamlike and soft. Dougall led his men away from their camp and onward in this nonsensical task his father had assigned him. Logan again rode at his side and Dougall felt that some of the heaviness that hung between them had passed. Perhaps today would be the day he could forgive his friend.
Dougall stretched in his saddle and rubbed his horse’s neck, speaking softly so only he could hear.
“Did ye say something?” Logan asked.
“Nae, not to ye.” Dougall answered.
“Are ye speaking with yer horse then?” Logan teased.
“Aye. There’s nae a thing wrong with it either.” Dougall eyed Logan, feeling some of the camaraderie that had been missing between them since their arrival at Castle Treun. Logan’s timing might be off, but perhaps it was time to lay his anger at his friend to rest. “Do ye nae believe this is the most useless waste of time?”
“Yer Da has an ulterior motive I’m sure,” Logan answered.
“And do ye ken what it might be?” Dougall felt the anger rising again. Was Logan keeping something else from him?
“Nae. I dinnae.” Logan shifted uneasily in his saddle. “Yer brother Fingall is to marry as well, ye ken.”
“And where was his sorry arse? I didnae see him in the short time I was there.” Dougall wondered where he’d been.
“He’s gone to the Matheson’s to retrieve Greer. I’m sure he wished to avoid ye. We all knew ye’d nae be happy about marrying Greer.” Logan’s discomfort became even more apparent. “Do ye ken, mayhap tis why yer father sent us off. Mayhap he didnae wish ye to interfere with Lady Greer’s arrival at Castle Treun.”
“I believe ye could be right,” Dougall said. There wasn’t anything he could do about it now except pray that Helene didn’t have the misfortune of dealing with Lady Greer while he was away. “Ye said Fingall is to marry. Who is she?” The bitter taste in Dougall’s mouth at this turn of events was made worse by the knowledge that his brother was now off escorting his bride back to Castle Treun. He could only hope Fingall had found himself in a similar circumstance.
“He’s marrying Lady Greer’s younger sister, Lady Gillian.”
“And is he happy about it?” Dougall asked.
“Aye. I believe so. He’s known Lady Gillian for many years and they are in love. I believe ’twas he suggested that ye could marry Lady Greer.”
“Grrr…” Dougall was seeing red. His brother and father were like two peas in a pod. “I have to put a stop to this. I cannae and willnae marry Greer.”
“I dinnae ken how you’ll do it,” Logan said.
“I’ll nae ask fer yer help. I dinnae wish to jeopardize yer standing with me Da.”
“I’m sorry, Dougall. I want to help ye. I do. I’d be banished or worse and I’ve nowhere else to go.”
“Ye could come back to the MacKenzies,” Dougall stated.
“Aye. I could. Do ye think they’d still want me?”
“Of course. Ye were such good friends with Cailin and Cormac. Ye saw how happy they were to see ye back at Breaghacraig. They’d welcome ye back with open arms. I’m sure of it.” A light of hope began to grow within Dougall. With Logan’s help he may just be able to escape Castle Treun with Helene and have the life he wanted instead of the life he was being forced into.
“Then I’ll do what I can to help ye, Dougall.”
“Yer like a brother to me, Logan. The brother I should have had.” Dougall laughed at the irony of his situation.
“Ye’d best do as yer Da asked first. We’ll patrol the lands and ye’ll get to know the men. ’Tis what he wished. By the time we return we’ll have a plan in place to rescue Helene from Paddraig and get us all back to Breaghacraig before they can stop us.”
“Thank ye, Logan. Yer a good man.”
“Shall we continue on then?”
Dougall signalled to his men to follow along behind him. They rode to the farthest reaches of the MacRae lands. Dougall did his best to act as if nothing was amiss. He knew almost all of these men from the days when he lived here under his father’s thumb. He hadn’t seen any of them for many years and despite the fact that his father expected much from them, they all respected the MacRae and would never betray him.
Chapter 8
Unaware that a guard waited outside her door, Helene decided to venture out of the room in search of Dougall. He’d been gone a very long time and she was concerned that something was wrong. She no sooner stepped out than she was grabbed roughly by the arm and jerked into the body of a rather tall man who’d obviously been standing right outside of her door.
“Where do ye think yer off to?” he growled.
“I’m looking for Dougall.” Helene’s voice quivered with fear.
“He’s nae here,” the man said trying to shove her back into her chambers. As he did so, another man approached.
“Ye saved me the trouble of coming in to get ye. The laird wishes to see ye in the great hall,” he said to Helene.
“Where’s Dougall?” she asked again. He promised he’d be right back. He said they’d be on their way home.
“He’s gone,” the man said as he grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the man stationed outside her door.
“Gone? What do you mean?” Confusion clouded her thinking. He’s here somewhere. He wouldn’t leave without me.
“I mean what I said. He’s gone.”
Helene’s mind was reeling at this news. Surely this man was mistaken. Dougall would never leave her here all alone. She started to speak, but the man interrupted her.
“There’s no point in asking me anymore of yer questions. I dinnae ken where he is.”
The man continued to hold her upper arm tightly in his large calloused hand. She had to run to keep up with him and she practically fell as they made their way down the stairs. The man grabbed her around the waist, throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her the rest of the way down.
At the bottom of the stairs, she was unceremoniously dropped. She stumbled to regain her balance before landing on the floor. The jolt of hitting hard on the cold stone floor knocked the breath right out of her.
“Get up.” The man commanded.
She had no breath with which to formulate an answer, so she struggled to her feet, following him into the great hall.
“Helene, is it?” Paddraig MacRae asked from his seat upon the dais.
“Aye, sir.” Helene’s eyes searched the room for Dougall – he wasn’t there. She did her best to control her trembling body. She didnae wish to show fear, but she was terrified of this man. She placed her hand to her mouth as bile rose in her throat and she fought to force it back down.
“He’s nae here.” Paddraig barked.
“Where is he, sir?” Helene’s voice shook with fear, but she had to ask. What if something had happened to him?
“That is none of yer business, lass.” His irritation with her was apparent.
Helene kept her mouth shut. No one had ever spoken to her this way before. The MacKenzies treated her as one of their own and even though she served them, they never spoke harshly to her.
“Unfortunately fer ye, Dougall brought ye here to Treun. Ye would have been better off staying where ye were at Breaghacraig. Ye cannae live here as a lady, because ye arenae one, so ye’ll remain here as a servant. Do ye ken?”
“Aye.” Helene muttered. What else could she say? She was alone here with the laird and she knew better than to disobey him.
“Good. Dougall’s bride will be arriving today and ye’ll be her lady’s maid. Ye’ll treat her with respect and do whatever it is she asks of ye. If ye give her one iota of trouble, ye’ll find yerself a prisoner in the dungeon. I hope I’ve made meself perfectly clear.”
“Aye. Ye have sir.” Helene was feeling most confused. This is not how things were supposed to be. Had Dougall agreed to marry this woman even though he’d vowed to Helene that he would never do so? Mayhap that explained his abs
ence. Her heart sank and her knees grew weak at the thought of it. It was obvious to Helene that there was little she could do in this situation. Even if Laird MacRae was lying to her, he was the Laird and therefore she had no say in what was to happen. She stood silently waiting to hear that she’d be allowed to leave, but that didn’t seem to be in the cards for her.
“Ye’ll no longer be allowed to sleep in Dougall’s quarters, ’twill be where his new wife will abide. They’ll be marrying upon his return. I have arranged with the head of me household staff to have ye sleep with the others who serve us. She doesnae have a bed fer ye, so ye’ll be sleeping on the floor until one can be found.”
So, Dougall was going to marry this woman and she was going to be forced to watch it all take place. There seemed little she could do about it. She’d await his return and then perhaps Logan could take her back to Breaghacraig, where she’d no doubt die of a broken heart. She held back the tears brimming in her eyes. Thoughts of losing her parents came unbidden to mind. Until this moment, their passing had been the worst time in her life. She never thought she would get over losing them, of being left alone to fend for herself, but the MacKenzies had seen to it that she was safe and cared for. Aye. She still had her friends back at Breaghacraig, if she could only get home to them. She’d make a plan, and until then she’d do as she was told and stay as far away from Laird MacRae as she could get. I’m a strong lass. No matter what I’ll survive this. I just want to go back home to me friends. Ashley and Jenna would surely know what to do. They’d each been through dark times and they lived to tell the tale. She could do the same as they’d done. As Ashley always told her, there wasn’t anything she couldn’t do if she put her mind to it. She would try to remember those words in the coming days.
“Go on then. Wait at the doors fer yer lady to arrive and while yer there ye might as well clean the entrance.”
Helene turned, feeling as though she’d been beaten by this awful man. How could he possibly be Dougall’s father? They couldn’t be any more different. Dougall would never treat anyone the way his father had just treated her. She gathered herself, standing tall and marched to the door. I only wish I knew when Dougall would return. I don’t know how much more of this I’ll be able to take.
A woman standing by the entryway to the great hall handed her a broom and a cloth. “Ye’d best get to cleaning, lass.”
Helene stood staring into the empty passageway. Her mind was not on this woman, or on the work she was to do. Her mind was on Dougall and how much she loved him. She almost began crying again, when the woman who was dressed plainly in a worn brown dress and kerchief, slapped the back of her head so hard she saw stars. The woman spoke to her again. “Go on. Dinnae make me report to the Laird that yer disobeying me. Yer nae a lady here so ye’ll do as yer told.”
Shaking herself from the pain in her head and stunned into silence, Helene began the tedious job of sweeping out the entryway and dusting every nook and cranny that was visible to her. As she worked, she heard the sounds of a carriage arriving and dreaded the thought that it might be the woman who was about to steal her man.
The doors flew open and two men entered, followed by a beautiful woman dressed in the finest silks. She had auburn hair and dark, green eyes. Her skin was flawless and her dainty hands flew to her throat as she almost walked into Helene. One of the men roughly grabbed Helene and shoved her out of the way. The group proceeded into the great hall where Helene could hear Paddraig gushing over Greer Matheson.
“Girl! Girl!” Paddraig yelled at the top of his lungs.
It took Helene a moment to realize he was speaking to her. She set the broom and cloth aside before entering the hall. “Sir.”
“Greer, this is to be yer lady’s maid. I hope she’ll do.”
Greer narrowed her eyes and Helene was struck by the cold, disgusted look in her eyes. It was as though Helene were no better than a fly on a piece of horse dung. “See to it that me belongings are brought to me room and unpacked. I’d like a bath prepared as well.”
“Aye, m’lady. As ye wish.” Helene left the room, not sure how to go about taking care of this woman’s demands. She was completely unfamiliar with this castle, but had no choice other than to do as she was told. Outside by the carriage she found some boys and asked them to please bring the bags upstairs. She gave them direction on where to go and then went to search for the woman in charge of the housekeeping.
She wandered around the castle grounds until she found the entrance to the kitchen. As luck would have it, the woman she sought was there.
“I’ve been asked to prepare a bath for…” She didn’t know what to call her. Would it be Lady Greer? She somehow couldn’t manage to get the words out of her mouth.
“What’s wrong with you, lass? What are ye trying to say?” the woman yelled.
“I need a bath sent up to Dougall’s chambers.”
“I dinnae believe ye should be speaking of the laird’s son with such familiarity.” She tut-tutted about the kitchen. “I’ll have it sent up right away. Now go on. Get ye up there. I’m sure she’ll be needing yer help.”
Helene hadn’t thought she’d be helping this husband stealing woman to a bath. How was she going to do it without dunking her head under water and drowning her? Leaving the kitchen, she made her way back up to Dougall’s room. Much to her surprise, the things she’d brought with her were missing. Where could they have put them? Knowing the way she’d been treated since Dougall left, she wouldn’t be surprised to find that they’d been thrown away. The beautiful dress Ashley had given her for her wedding was in her bag. As soon as she had a moment she would have to search for it. As it was, the dress she was wearing was the only other good dress she owned and now it was filthy from the cleaning she’d just done. No doubt the water from the bath wouldn’t help the way it looked any. There was nothing for it now but to await the arrival of Lady Greer.
Helene sat waiting for what seemed like hours for Lady Greer to arrive. She was so hungry that her stomach was protesting loudly at the lack of food she’d had to eat this day. As soon as she was finished with the bath, Helene planned to go back to the kitchen for something to eat. She stood gazing out the window and thinking that this must be the worst thing to ever happen in her life when the door opened and a whirlwind of activity entered the room. The two men accompanying her inspected the room from top to bottom before departing.
“Where’s me bath? I asked ye to see that a bath was waiting fer me.” Her Surliness was speaking.
“I’m sorry. I asked to have one sent up and it hasn’t arrived yet.”
“Well, yer already a sorry excuse for a lady’s maid. Go see where it is?”
Helene was reaching for the door just as there was a knock on it. She opened it to find the bathtub had arrived as had the hot water to fill it. While the bath was being prepared she did what she would have done at Breaghacraig and got a fire started in the hearth to warm the room. She instructed the lads to place the tub by the fireplace, taking the tray of soap and drying cloths and setting them on a nearby table. When all was ready she helped Lady Greer out of her dress and into the tub, where she complained loudly about the temperature of the water.
“The water’s too hot.”
“I’m sorry. ’Twill cool off soon enough.” Helene tempered her remarks, so as to sound pleasant when she was feeling anything but. She had a bucket of cold water at her feet, but after years of preparing and helping with baths, she knew that the water temperature would rapidly cool and adding the cold water to it would only speed up the process.
“Well, are ye going to stand there or are ye going to wash me?”
Helene grabbed the soap and a wash cloth. She was just about to start the bathing when Lady Greer spoke again.
“So, I’ve been told yer the wench who thinks she was good enough to marry me Dougall. I can’t imagine what he sees in ye. Yer as plain as can be.”
Helene contained her anger and soaped up the cloth to begin washing La
dy Greer’s back.
“Why would he waste his time on someone like ye? Unless, of course, yer the type who lets a man sample yer wares without benefit of marriage.” She laughed long and loud over that remark.
Helene was so embarrassed. She felt the heat creeping up her cheeks. Apparently she was one of those women. She could never regret what she and Dougall had shared, no matter how this witch of a woman tried to make her feel badly about it. Helene stood and faced Lady Greer.
“Ye are, arenae ye! I can see it on yer face. Was he the first?” It was obvious she was having fun at Helene’s expense. “Of course he wasnae. Yer the type who’s probably been with dozens of men. Ye thought ye caught a good one this time. Made him think he should marry ye, but unfortunately fer ye, he’ll be marrying me. And once he samples me wares, he’ll have nae need of yers.”
Helene couldn’t help herself. She’d had enough and she wasn’t going to listen to this woman insult her and her relationship with Dougall anymore. Picking up the bucket of icy cold water, she dumped it over Lady Greer’s head and then flung the bar of soap and wash cloth into the tub before stomping out of the room and into the passageway.
Lady Greer screamed at the top of her lungs and her two guardians ran past Helene and into the room. “Get out you oafs. Can ye nay see that I’m in the bath? I want that wench arrested. She assaulted me.”
It was then that Helene realized she was in trouble. She probably shouldn’t have done it, but it felt good. She ran down the passageway as fast as her legs would carry her. She had no idea where she was going, but she knew she’d be made to pay for what she’d just done. The sounds of yelling and running followed her as she made her way down the stairs and out the doors into the courtyard. If she could only get to her horse, she might stand a chance of getting away.
The bright light outside blinded her as the sun was setting for the day. She took a moment to get her bearings and as she took a step towards the stables she was seized by the two men who had accompanied Lady Greer. They dragged her back into the great hall where Laird MacRae stood, his face red with anger.