Robert had told him to be quick about it and return to report as soon as possible. It was for the good of his Laird that the matter be settled.
Angus kicked his horse into high speeds and seemed to be flying over the green pastures and long roads leading south.
Before long, he had arrived at the estate belonging to the Duke of Gordon. It was a large manor — tall and imposing. The grounds surrounding it were vast, and a stunning garden seemed to encase the man-made structure.
Finding a way in would be a struggle. In fact, it would most likely be impossible to ride without being noticed, and Angus was well aware that any persona he might undertake would automatically be considered suspect with all that had occurred in the family of late.
But Angus found his fortunate moment after just ten minutes of watching the house.
The tiny, dark-haired maid came out, carrying a parcel. Angus had seen her with Isabel upon their initial capture. She had been with Edan’s lass. This was his chance.
Angus hid behind a tree, waiting until the maid was nearer. He was lucky that she was on her own.
As Charlotte walked past, Angus silently shifted behind her and clamped a hand over her mouth, holding her firmly against him with his other arm.
Charlotte tried to scream, but his hand covered the sound of it. She attempted to struggle, but the Scotsman was too strong.
“Please, dinnae fight. I’m nae here to hurt ye. I was sent from the leader of the Mccallion clan’s army, Mr. Robert. All I am to do is find out about the safety of the English lass. Sorry, Isabel I mean. The Duke’s daughter. Is she well?” Angus asked.
Charlotte shook her head with his hand still clamped over her mouth. She couldn’t speak, but she could at least tell him that things were not right.
“She isnae?” he asked for confirmation.
Charlotte looked as far back as she could to try and make eye contact, and Angus leaned over her shoulder to see her face. Her eyes confirmed it. Something was terribly wrong.
“Alright then, I’m going to remove me hand, but dinnae think that means ye can scream. I’ll still be holding onto ye. Do ye promise not to scream?” he asked, knowing very well that she would make the promise whether she meant to keep it or not.
Charlotte nodded, and Angus slowly pulled his hand a few inches from her mouth, ready to cover it again if necessary.
“Tell me what’s happening,” he ordered.
“They have my lady, Isabel, locked in a small room in the attic. Her father insisted upon it, and her uncle carried it out. I am terribly frightened for her. She is lonely, and she misses the Laird, I can tell,” Charlotte said in a rush.
“She misses him?” Angus asked.
“Yes, indeed. I am worried, sir. Please, tell the Laird she meant nothing by her actions. She lives with great regret. My lady Isabel is in deepest grief. She must be rescued,” Charlotte said with agony.
“And how exactly do ye propose we rescue her? And why, at that? After all the fresh hell she brought on us? Ye think we’d ever let her live peacefully amongst us? That we’d come and save her and risk another war at oor doorstep?” he challenged.
“No, sir. I know you would not do that. But if there is any way that you could meet me here tomorrow at this same time? I would be most obliged. In the evenings I take a parcel of food to my family. I could meet you here. It would give me a chance to speak with my lady,” Charlotte requested.
“Ye need say nothing to her about this,” Angus warned.
“Please, I beg you. Just meet me here tomorrow. I promise that no harm will come to you,” she assured him.
“And how’m I to ken that ye won’t have any fancy soldiers of the Duke’s waiting for me? To take me away?” he asked with suspicion.
“I have no way to prove it to you, sir. But I can assure you that I have no desire to see them bring any more harm on you or the clan you represent. I just need to get word to the Laird about my lady. I will write to him. I need you only to take the letter,” she requested.
Angus was quiet for a moment, analyzing Charlotte’s face for dishonesty.
He thought he saw only truth and desperation in her eyes.
“Alright then, tomorrow I will meet ye,” he swore.
“Thank you, sir. You are most gracious and kind!” Charlotte said with relief.
“Go,” Angus ordered, releasing her from his grasp. She rushed quickly away, toward the direction of her family’s home.
Angus hoped he hadn’t just made a grave mistake.
Returning home that evening, Charlotte pulled out a piece of paper and a pen to write to Edan, begging him to have mercy on Isabel.
Dear Laird Edan,
I know my lady Isabel hurt you deeply. But I must ask you to
consider forgiveness upon her. She is not well, you see. Her father and
uncle have locked her away. I do not know if she shall ever be released
or seen again. I am terribly worried about her.
I know you are angry with her, but please know that she lives
with severe regret for hurting you so deeply. Consider that she does love
you more than she was ever able to say.
If you care for her still, please send word that I might give her
some comfort in the midst of her current suffering. If you do not,
then perhaps sending someone to check on her was a sign that you do and you ought to consider where your heart lies.
Either way, remember what you shared with her.
She has not told me much from after you returned me to England,
but her affections for you are clear and evident. I can only imagine
the rest.
Regards,
Charlotte
Charlotte read the letter at least ten times, each read feeling more foolish than the last. Who was she to send a desperate letter of mercy to the Laird of a Scottish clan? Oh well, perhaps it didn’t matter. She was doing it for Isabel.
After completing her letter, Charlotte climbed the stairs to the attic. It was the dead of night, and she had not planned to return until the following day but thought perhaps this was as good an opportunity as any so long as Isabel was still awake.
To her luck, Charlotte saw the glow from the candle underneath the door.
“My lady?” she called softly in her usual way.
“Charlotte? What are you doing? It is the middle of the night,” Isabel said from the other side of the door.
“Yes, my lady, but listen. Today I was stopped by a spy from the Scots. He had no other purpose than to learn about your well-being,” Charlotte said.
She heard the breath of Isabel catch. Yes, it was the hope she needed. Charlotte was relieved to have given her this news.
“I told him of your captivity. I will send a letter with the man tomorrow and inform the Laird,” Charlotte promised.
“Oh, Charlotte. Thank you! I wrote to him, you know. Here, I have the letter. Can you please make sure it is sent?” Isabel begged.
“Absolutely, my lady. I will make sure it is so. The Laird will know what has happened to you. Is that all you wish for, my lady?” Charlotte asked.
“Indeed. You are such a gift to me in these times, Charlotte!” Isabel gushed.
Chapter 48
“Me Laird!” called Angus with a smile. He shook the rain off himself as he walked the hall toward Edan.
“Ye have returned so soon?” Edan asked. It had been no more than three days since Angus had been sent out on his mission. He had anticipated him to be gone at least a full week.
“Aye. It took no time at all, Laird Edan. I have news for ye. Well, news and two letters.
“I ken me mission was to be discreet, but circumstances changed all the planning. The little maid, the one who Cormag had captured with the Duke’s daughter, I managed to cross paths with her. She wrote a letter for ye. Turns out, the lass Isabel had also planned to get a letter to ye,” Angus explained.
“She is not well, me
Laird Edan. Things have not been good to her since she left us. They have not been good to her,” he said.
Edan looked at Angus with annoyance that his instructions had not been followed, but the letters were more urgent to him than his irritation. He grasped the two pages and read the one from Charlotte first. His heart sank, learning that what he had dreaded had come to pass.
Then he carefully opened the sealed tome of Isabel. It shook him to his core. He knew her words were honest. He knew that she meant it when she told him that she loved him. And yet, what did it matter if she were going to try and kill him? She hadn’t believed him, so why should he be led to believe her?
How am I to hold to me cold bitterness when I read these words? She was not the woman I believed her to be. But oh how these words get to me! He thought.
Robert saw Edan standing with Angus and quickly made his way over. He, too, was surprised by the quickness of the journey.
“Me Laird,” he said. “What news has come to ye?”
“She is in grave danger, Robert,” Edan replied. “She is nearly lost to the world being so shuttered away. I dinnae ken how her faither could be so cruel after having her returned to him.”
“So, what are ye going to do about it?” Robert asked.
“I dinnae ken. I mean, I cannae just run off and away to rescue her. Do I even want to? She tried to kill me,” he said.
“Aye, but that was because she thought ye were a murderer. Listen, ye ken I’m nae her biggest supporter and I dinnae like that ye were growing so fond of an English lass. But I also think ye ken exactly what ye must do,” Robert replied.
Is he right? Should I go? Should I save her? Edan asked himself.
The room was quiet for a moment save for the sound of thunder in the sky beyond the castle.
“Ye ken, Edan, right now I think this isnae yer biggest worry,” said Robert, seemingly distracted. His eyes were wide as he stared out the window into the stormy, grey weather.
Edan looked out and saw his uncle Callum, and Cormag sliding against one another, locked in a brawl.
Edan came out onto the lawn in the meadow to meet the two men.
“What are ye on about?” he shouted above the rains, now pouring hard and loud. A quick wind whipped past them, revealing the underlings of their kilts in a way Edan had never wanted to see of Cormag.
“It’s yer lying, buggering kinfolk!” Cormag yelled in reply, getting in a punch that hit the air and missed Callum’s face by a fraction.
“Me? I’m the liar? Cormag, ye dirtbag. Shut yer filthy mouth!” Callum replied, taking a swing right back and hitting Cormag in the bicep.
It had not been the intended target, but Callum was relieved just to get in the hit.
“Stop this nonsense,” Edan commanded firmly.
But the fight continued. Each man grew in his anger and hatred.
“Why dinnae ye just tell him?” Cormag yelled at Callum.
“Why dinnae ye just keep yer mouth shut?” shouted Callum.
Cormag finally got a blow to Callum’s face, knocking him down. He was immobile for a moment. Edan saw his chance.
“Tell me! Tell me what it is that you have on me uncle, Cormag. Why do ye haunt him so?” Edan demanded.
“Edan, dinnae —” Callum groaned from his place on the wet earth. The water was spilling from the sky with full force.
Cormag fell on his backside as Edan’s strong frame towered over him. He looked like a god with his topless musculature on display, his kilt blowing in the breeze, and the claymore lifted high above him.
A crack of lightning struck the sky and, for a moment, made Edan’s figure glow. Yes, Cormag tasted terror.
“P-please, it’s nae what ye think,” he pleaded.
“Then what? Did he order ye to kill James? Or did ye learn something else? What is it, Cormag?” Edan shouted above the sound of rain striking stone and earth.
“Dinnae kill me, me Laird!” Cormag begged.
“Then tell me! What secret are ye keeping for me uncle?” Edan demanded.
“Edan —” wheezed Callum from behind him. Edan maintained his focus on Cormag. His uncle had had many chances to tell him the truth. It was too late. Edan had to know.
“He’s-he’s dying!” Cormag yelled.
The thunder and lightning struck simultaneously above them once more. Edan stood still for a moment, allowing the words to register.
“What?” he asked, barely above a whisper.
Cormag saw the word form on his lips.
“He’s dying, me Laird. And I’m the only one who kens the truth of it,” Cormag said.
Edan turned his back on Cormag and looked at his uncle, a pitiful creature on the ground.
Callum released a body wrenching hack of a cough. It rattled his body. The cold was clearly aggravating his condition.
“Uncle?” Edan asked, pained and uncertain.
Callum regained himself.
“It is true…” he confirmed, wheezing through the words.
Edan rushed to his uncle’s side.
“Why did ye not tell me?” he inquired with earnestness.
“Ye lost yer faither, yer mother is scarcely to be seen. Ye have only yer sister, and I was meant to be the man ye could come to when ye needed guidance. How could I tell ye I was soon to be gone too?” Callum asked.
“Uncle, I am so sorry for questioning ye,” Edan cried, holding Callum’s frame to him.
“It’s nae worries, lad. I ken ye didnae ken what to believe,” Callum said, forgiving him.
“We must get ye back to the castle,” Edan decided.
He turned to ask Cormag for help but found that he had vanished.
Oh well, no time for him now. I can deal with him later, Edan thought.
He helped lift Callum to stand, and the two walked together toward the castle. Callum was weak, and his feet slid in the mud, but Edan’s strength encouraged him to continue.
Upon seeing them, the guards rushed to Callum’s side and assisted Edan in bringing him in. He was carried to his room and changed into dry clothes before drifting into a deep sleep.
Edan left his uncle to lie in rest. He went to his own room, the letters clutched in his hands.
The words of Isabel’s note rang in his mind. She had begged his forgiveness for her false accusations, for not believing that Edan had good intentions.
Was that not how he had treated his uncle? His dying uncle?
He had accused Callum of murdering his friend when he was merely trying to protect Edan from the truth that he was soon to lose another member of his family.
What a terrible thing Edan had done. But he would do his best to make it right. Once his uncle was conscious again, he would apologize.
But he may have to do something else before that. Another task presented itself in Edan’s mind.
Yes, he understood now, the trial and difficulty that Isabel had faced in her distrust. It all made sense. And locked away in that tower, she had to know that he understood.
He could not leave her abandoned.
Chapter 49
Isabel found herself bored yet again, feeling as though her life was doomed to be locked in rooms as a prisoner. With all of her regret and shame, she still felt like a petulant child whenever it came to being bored.
A rush of feet was on the stairs, and Isabel sat up. Someone was coming.
“My lady, he’s here,” came Charlotte’s nervous voice from beyond the door. She was yanking the handle but could not get the door open.
“Who? Who is it, Charlotte?” Isabel asked, making her way toward the wooden frame. Her hopes were rising that perhaps Edan had come for her after all.
“That awful, brutish man who took us. He is here!” Charlotte warned, breathlessly.
“Oh dear. Charlotte, go to the guards instantly. Beg them to send for more help. He cannot come into our home! I am certain he was responsible for the death of James, for the injury of my father,” Isabel insisted. Her heart began to pound.
Would she remain locked in here with no way of escaping him? Or would he kill the whole household and never find her, and she would starve to death?
“Yes, my lady. I will do as you say,” she agreed.
The Highlander's Enigmatic Bride: A Scottish Historical Romance Novel Page 26