In spite of not believing he would harm her, the sight of his fists clenching and opening, clenching and opening, made her take a step away. She began to back up until Dougal blocked her path and she could go no further.
Was this was a Rob she’d never known? Unpredictable? Dangerous? Was whatever leniency he’d granted her the day and night before over now and did she face him as an enemy this morn? And she was not only alone, but also very overwhelmed and confused. Unable to stand up to him in strength or power, she did the only prudent thing in this situation.
Lilidh dropped to her knees and bowed her head.
If every foul word she’d ever heard or overheard tried to force its way onto her tongue and out of her mouth, ’twas no fault of hers. Keeping silent at a time like this went against every fibre in her body and soul, but she was no fool. Staying alive to fight another day in another way was her plan. If it required her to swallow all those curses, then so be it.
For now.
Rob grunted from somewhere above her. He grunted! Then Symon seemed to copy the sound. From being raised around so many egotistical, proud, strong men, she recognised it as the sound men made when their pride was satisfied. When she dared to raise her head a bit, she watched as a satisfied smirk found its place on the face of the lovely Lady Tyra. Before she could think more on that, Rob spoke again.
‘Dougal, take her to the kitchens. She can begin there now.’
Dougal’s strong hands wrapped around her shoulders giving her more help in rising than was apparent to others, but she felt it. Once on her feet, he tugged the rope and led her from the hall. They talked about her as even she left and could still hear them.
‘Are you satisfied now, Symon? She will be worked from morning to night in the kitchens and then serve me in my bed,’ Rob said.
She so hoped Symon would not speak again, but from her short experiences with the man, she understood he would never give up the chance to have the last word. She prepared herself for something vulgar.
‘I am glad that you, at least, followed my advice on how to treat her, Rob. Tame her with a strong hand and keep riding the bitch until she cannot walk. It’s all she or her father will understand.’
Fury and pride waged a war within her. How dare they speak of her and of such things about her! Lilidh was about to stop and reply to the lewd words, but Dougal chose to give a real and hard yank on the rope just then and she stumbled forwards, staying on her feet her only thought. Laughter erupted around her. She dared a last glance back as they reached the doorway.
It was a hall divided. Though most of the men laughed, the women sat silently, directing looks of pity in her direction. More than one woman whispered something to her man which caused them to stop laughing. Only one group continued to call out, encouraged on by Symon. His friends, no doubt, and those responsible for capturing her at his side.
Another tug on the rope from Dougal and she shuffled along, limping as she went. If they all chose to believe it was from Rob’s treatment of her, she was not about to disabuse them of that notion right now. A prisoner, a hostage, needed to use whatever tools were at her disposal.
They made their way down the back corridors until they reached the kitchen. It bustled with people carrying out tasks to store and prepare food for the clan. Men, women, even boys, moved quickly in and out of the noisy room, all under the direction of an even-louder, huge man who wielded a large wooden spoon like a sword. When he spotted her and Dougal, he shrugged and frowned.
‘What is this, Dougal? Are you going through my kitchen to reach the dungeon now?’
The cook. As she thought.
‘She’s to work here, at the laird’s orders, I’m afraid, Calum,’ Dougal replied.
‘What am I to do with a lady in my kitchen? Did he think about that?’ Calum asked with the attitude of a man in charge who did not want interference from anyone. From the tone, she knew he did not expect an answer.
‘Here now, Calum,’ a woman interrupted. ‘I will see to her.’ The woman walked to the cook’s side and whispered something to him. Her words seemed to calm him, for he nodded several times before speaking.
‘Siusan will take her, Dougal.’ He motioned her away. ‘Any other orders from the laird, then?’ She knew not of a cook who appreciated any visitors or disturbances in their kitchen and Lilidh almost smiled at how closely Calum fit the mould.
Dougal shook his head and followed Siusan away from the main area. Still tethered to him, she went, glancing around the hustling place. They stopped before a large table in one far corner.
‘Give her to me,’ Siusan said, waiting and watching Dougal. When he held out the rope, the woman shook her head. ‘What good does a bound servant do me, Dougal? There is no task here that doesn’t use her hands.’
The stout woman placed her hands on her hips and stared Dougal down as Lilidh watched. Clearly, it was not something he’d considered on their way here.
‘She is a prisoner, Siusan. Not to have the freedom of a guest. Do you understand?’
‘Aye, Dougal,’ she said in a tired voice. ‘We have all heard about the laird’s plans for her. Work her here, work her in his bed.’ Lilidh blinked quickly, fighting back both a laugh and a retort. News travelled quickly, but even faster through the servants in a keep.
Silently, Dougal untied her hands and coiled the rope back up and pulled it onto his shoulder. She met his gaze for a moment and knew he was not amused. But, truly, what could he do? Or rather, what did he need to do? With her maimed leg, she would not be running away. In this place filled with Symon’s cronies who thought nothing of hurting her, where would she run?
‘She is not to be left alone. Someone on guard at all times.’ Siusan waved her hands in a sweeping motion, urging him out, so Dougal turned and left.
‘So, what can you do in a kitchen?’ Siusan asked as she pointed to a stool next to the table.
Grateful to sit after so long on her feet, Lilidh walked slowly to it, held on to the edge of the table and lowered herself on the wooden surface. Looking up, she noticed that Siusan stared at her as she moved. Lilidh was about to answer her question, when the woman spoke first.
‘Has Beathas seen to you, lass?’ she whispered.
Siusan, like the others, thought Rob had beaten her. Since most had not seen her when she arrived in the hall, wrapped and filthy, it was a natural assumption to make, she supposed. Deciding not to say much about it, Lilidh nodded and looked away.
‘My mother made certain I can do most kitchen tasks, though I have little skill at cooking,’ she answered the first question instead. ‘I was expected to oversee my husband’s household,’ Lilidh said into the surprised woman’s face.
Siusan called one of the rushing-by girls over and took a basket from her. Reaching into her own belt, she pulled out a small paring knife and held it out to Lilidh.
‘Clean and chop these,’ she directed, as Lilidh took both of them. ‘And I’ll be having that knife back before you leave here.’
Lilidh smiled and when Siusan did as well, she knew she had not misunderstood the woman’s attempt at humour. Oh, there were many things she could do with that knife, but she would not risk it—yet.
* * *
She’d cleaned several baskets of vegetables when her stomach reminded her she had not eaten that day. Or even the last one, for all she’d had was Beathas’s concoctions. Siusan heard the rumblings as she moved around the table.
‘Have you eaten today?’ she asked.
‘No,’ Lilidh replied.
‘When last did you eat?’ The woman walked closer.
Lilidh shrugged, for she really did not know. If she’d slept through most of one day and into another, and had been on the road for another one with Symon, had it been three days? ‘A while.’
Within moments, a large bowl of broth and a chunk of bread were placed before her. A mug at the plate’s side. ‘Go ahead,’ Siusan said.
Though plain, Lilidh thought she’d never tasted anything
so good before. She tore the bread into pieces and dipped them in the broth to soften them. Within minutes, she’d eaten every bit and drank down the remaining broth, too. She had not realised how hungry she had been until the first taste of food in her mouth. Smiling at how her brother would tease her over eating so quickly, she looked up to find Siusan studying her.
‘My thanks,’ she said, gathering the bowl and mug together and pushing herself to stand. If she did not move around, her leg would stiffen beyond measure on her.
‘You have her look,’ Siusan said as Lilidh carried the bowl over to a large tub used to wash dishes and such.
‘Her look?’ she asked, not understanding.
‘Your mother. I visited a cousin who lives in Lairig Dubh and saw her. The laird’s wife.’
‘Jocelyn MacCallum?’ Lilidh asked.
‘Aye, you have her eyes and the shape of her face, though your hair is the colour of your father’s.’ Siusan smiled then. ‘The Beast, they called him...but that was so long ago.’
The woman still stared at her and Lilidh wondered why.
‘They still call him that, though not loud enough for him to hear,’ Lilidh answered.
‘I did not think Rob the kind of man to do that,’ she said softly, changing the topic with a quick glance at her neck and face. Lilidh touched the sensitive areas and knew her skin showed every place that had been roughly touched by Symon or one of his men during the kidnapping. This time, she knew it wrong to let Rob take the blame.
‘Much of it was during my capture,’ she said. And she left it at that, not wanting to say more. ‘I fought back,’ she could not help but add.
Siusan nodded and then they both became busy with chores. But the woman kept a watch on her, allowing no one to get too close and permitting short rest times throughout the day. By the time the evening meal had been made and served and the pots cleaned, exhaustion claimed her. And the thought of climbing those stairs terrified her.
* * *
Lilidh was sitting in the corner as the kitchen emptied, all the tasks of the day completed and the morrow’s begun, when two guards entered and walked to where she waited. Siusan had left, as well, and if Lilidh had possessed the strength, she would have stood. She couldn’t, so she watched their approach.
‘Come with us,’ one of them ordered. She looked from one to the other and knew they were only carrying out their duty in this.
Lilidh tried to push to her feet, but she stumbled and landed hard on the stool. Wincing, she tried again and failed. She was not trying to refuse—her body had simply given out. She did not resist when they took her by the arms, one on each side of her, and lifted her to her feet.
She lost track of herself then, as they hauled her along corridors and up the stairs to Rob’s chambers. Truly, she would never have made her way without one at each arm. Lilidh leaned on their strength and let them carry her all the way and though they did not relent, they did not do this harshly. They reached the bedchamber and walked her in, releasing her next to the bed. The door had only just closed when she collapsed to the floor.
And she stayed as she fell.
Chapter Eight
The sight before his eyes shocked and horrified him.
He’d seen battles. He’d seen the dead. And he’d seen everything in between. But the sight of Lilidh, on his bedchamber floor, unmanned, undid him. Rob leaned down nearer to her and touched her face.
Thank the Almighty, she was still breathing.
She lay curled on her side, one arm tucked under her head and the other wrapped in her skirts. Though breathing, her chest barely moved. Her face, pale this morn, was ghostly now, washed of all colour. He spoke her name and received no response at all. Then, when he gently rubbed her shoulder, she moaned something he could not understand and rolled away from his touch. Glancing around the chamber, he found a basin and some water heated by the hearth and brought it closer to her.
When she’d entered the hall, so proud and fearless, his lungs had stopped taking in air. He watched her progress through the others, ignoring the insults and whispers that even he could hear until she stood before them. Everyone else disappeared as he took her in, truly for the first time.
The first thing he noticed was the pallor of her skin and the bruises that marred it. Her neck, chin, even her face, carried the evidence of harsh treatment—from Symon during her capture, no doubt. From the whiteness of her skin, he knew that there would be other marks on her arms and legs from his manhandling.
The first warning that more trouble was brewing for him came when Symon demanded to see Lilidh this morn. Tyra asked about her presence, which surprised him. Surely Symon had spoken to his sister about his plans and that Rob had claimed Lilidh. To speak plainly of her and to summon her publicly was out of character for his betrothed. As he’d told Symon, his choice of women to take to his bed was his own business and Tyra could neither question nor oppose it.
So, he supposed that surprise made him allow the summons to bring Lilidh to happen. The demand that she work for her keep was another surprise. It was as though Symon was calling his bluff over her and over his disregard of the possible tender feelings of his sister.
A challenge, pure and simple, and one meant to call his decision into question.
But Rob had thought to work around that by agreeing—so that Lilidh was seen by all and that his order to have her work would show she was nothing more than a hostage of war and not to receive any special treatment.
What the hell had he been thinking?
He dipped a cloth in the water and touched it to her cheek, wiping away some remnant of dirt gained from her working in the kitchens. He reached for a cup on the table and brought it to her lips. Lifting her head, he tipped it, allowing the ale to flow against her mouth until she opened and took some. Her eyelids fluttered and opened, her gaze confused and indistinct.
Then she realised where she was and who held the cup. He got barely a second’s warning before she pulled away from him and scooted across the floor. Not until she was pressed against the wall did she stop, her eyes now wild and her hands fending off anyone who approached. Rob followed with the cup, letting her come to full consciousness before speaking. When she took it from him and drank it down, he knew she was awake.
‘Have you eaten?’ he asked, taking the cup and filling it with half as much as before for her. Too much ale on an empty stomach would not be good for her.
Lilidh nodded, as she let her legs slide down in front of her. ‘Siusan saw me fed.’
‘Are you well?’ he asked, rising to stand and holding out his hand to her. She waved it off.
‘Well enough.’
He allowed her to remain there and tended to some letters that had arrived for him. Sitting at the table, he gave her time to gather herself before trying to speak more to her. Tossing the missives aside, he wondered if her father would send something in writing or in
armour to answer this action of Symon’s.
‘Why did you do this? Why did you bring me into the middle of this?’ she asked, unwilling to wait any longer for an explanation from him. ‘What do you expect to get in return for me?’
Rob did not know how to answer her because he had yet to figure it out for himself. Some of it was obvious, but some was much more difficult to think about. His long-dead dreams kept raising themselves, poking and prodding his heart and his honour. For now, he would keep this situation between them as simple as possible. Without facing her, he gave her the easiest answer.
‘Gold,’ he said.
‘Why do you lie to me over this? I deserve at least the truth of it from you.’ How could she tell he lied?
‘Leave it, Lilidh. You are here.’ Rob faced her now and recognised the mutinous gleam in her eyes. She would not let this or much go untouched.
‘Have you sent your demands to my father or the MacGregors yet?’ she asked quietly, as though she could read his thoughts. ‘Or heard from them yet?’
‘Yes. Word of your p
resence here was sent yesterday to both, though I suspect your father knows already.’
She shifted against the wall, drawing in a quick gasp as she moved. Her leg. She’d limped into the hall and out of it this morn. Now, after a day in the kitchens...
‘Lilidh—’ he began.
‘Rob,’ she interrupted. He paused and nodded to her to continue. His coming to his senses about her treatment and decision not to let his cousin, or his betrothed, give the orders could wait.
‘Though I suspect the outcome might be no different, there is something you should know,’ she said. The frown on her brow bespoke of news he would not like. ‘I am not certain if your aim is war with both the
MacLeries and the MacGregors or not.’ She shifted again, pulling her legs up towards her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She was waiting for him to respond.
‘Taking you prisoner involves both, I think. Neither your father nor your husband will suffer the insult to their honour lightly.’
‘He is dead,’ she said, almost on a whisper.
‘Connor is dead?’ he asked, going to her before he even knew he’d stood or taken a step. ‘Your father...’ Somehow he could never picture the ruthless, unbeatable Highland warrior dead. Regret rather than satisfaction pierced him. So many regrets.
‘Not my father. Iain MacGregor. My husband died recently.’ She shrugged. ‘Though as his widow, I am sure his family will take insult since that’s how you meant this to be.’
Dear God! Knowing the MacGregors, they would declare war against his clan just for the fun of fighting! This changed many things, especially since it made Connor the only one with whom they would be dealing. No one to argue or to mitigate with him on their behalf. Though Rob knew Connor paid heed to his wife and, now that Rob held Lilidh prisoner, Jocelyn would press for war against him. No mother was more dangerous when defending her young than the wife of the Beast.
Rob rubbed his face and turned away from Lilidh. Could this get any more tangled? Had Symon had any inkling of what they would face when he launched into this folly? And now, as chieftain, it was Rob’s duty to get them out of it and save the clan, as well.
Terri Brisbin Highlander Bundle Page 27