by Reece Butler
This time it was Gillis who turned away. The question hit too close. Now that Fiona was a lady with important family ties why would she want such as them? All they could offer her was a bedroll at Duncladach. There were already too many meals made of little more than porridge, and no sweetening or salt for it, either.
“Anna is a widow,” said Angus. “Mayhaps her husband was a good man and—”
“Good?” Iain spat to the side. “He was a vicious bastard. He beat her, even put his boot to her belly to make her lose their bairn.”
Gillis’s stomach cramped at the thought. Anna was so cheerful, laughing with Fiona and apologizing as she asked them to move the heavy table one more time.
“Tell me he died slow and painful,” said Gillis coldly.
“He was gored in the belly by a boar’s tusk. He begged me not to let him suffer long. So I slit his throat.” Iain’s smile was crooked from the scar across his lip. “I had to tell Anna of his death. She cried, so I held her in my arms and comforted her. She cried a long time.”
“Her tears were from joy, nay loss?” asked Gillis.
Iain nodded. “She’d had to hide her fear for years, from father and husband. As a widow she was safe from both so she let herself be weak for a wee bit. She trusted I’d nay harm her.”
“Do ye wish to marry her?”
The bleak look on Iain’s face said it all. “Aye, but there’s nay chance o’ that.”
“Have ye bedded her?” asked Angus. “She was givin’ ye looks saying she wanted ye.”
He shook his head. “How? I am here all day. She shares a tent with yer lady wife each eve.”
“There are three floors to this tower. We’ll take the first floor and the two of ye—”
“Ye heard her. She’d not dally in daylight,” replied Iain.
“Mayhaps if Fiona went for a long walk at night, ye could bed your woman?”
“What woman would walk at night, and without an escort?”
“What woman, indeed,” said Angus mildly.
Iain narrowed his eyes at them. “Dinna be thinking to walk into that camp under the moon. Ye’ll be clapped in irons and kept for his lairdship’s pleasure.”
Gillis bared his teeth in a parody of a smile. “Only if ye catch us.”
“I’ll be watching for ye.”
Gillis sighed as if exhausted. “‘Tis too late, and I’m too tired to walk far this night. Mayhaps on the morrow.”
Iain, still muttering threats what would happen if they passed the gates, left shortly after with the women.
“Methinks he’ll be whisperin’ sweet words to Anna one night,” said Angus.
“While Fiona is bitin’ down on that leather as we plow her.”
“I’m hard enough as it is, brother. Dinna make it worse.”
“In case the lass takes a stroll under the stars, where did ye put that strip of leather?”
* * * *
It was Lovat’s favorite time of the day. He’d heard all the reports, had given the orders, and could now relax. Fiona had surprised him, acting sweet and demure when she returned from emptying the wagons. He was sure it was an act. With business out of the way he could enjoy working on her situation.
All, including Fiona, believed Lady Ceana would be moving in. The old woman had been a thorn in his side for too long. He’d given her a choice. She could live in this rebuilt towerhouse in the middle of nowhere or move in with her son in Strath Glass. He was through having her upset his wife. A messenger had just reported Ceana was packing for an extended visit with her son.
“Uncle, I dinna need three guards to walk up a track. Mayhaps just Iain?”
He made a show of thinking it over.
“Aye, Iain will do. ‘Tis not as if you’ll be running away with the MacDougals. They vowed to stay until I say the work is done.”
Fiona trailed her fingertips over the back of a padded chair. “Uncle, why is there a pit in yon towerhouse?”
“Ah, you did a thorough look, even to the cellars.”
She folded her hands in front of her. “Ye gave an order, laird. I followed it.”
She was playing him to an extent. He already knew his wee niece obeyed the orders she chose to. Angus had a strong mind and would be changing her attitude once they settled in as husband and wife. Or husbands and wife. He would never share his Janet, though sometimes he wished there was two of him to keep up with her. She and her sisters had been well educated and had keen minds. It was not always a good trait in a wife.
“‘Twas built with a pit,” he replied as if it was no matter. “‘Tis not worth the effort to fill it.”
She grimaced. “I’ll not go to the cellars again.”
“That would be wise.”
He wasn’t surprised Fiona feared being caught in a dungeon again. Using that fear was part of his plan. If she really wanted her men she would conquer her fear. His plans were coming along well. Now, to set the trap.
* * * *
Fiona was ready to scream in frustration. A new bride should not have to go without bedding her men! Her uncle had ordered her to join him for breakfast once more. She sat, dressed as ordered in an uncomfortable but lovely gown, hands folded in her lap, expression meek, and began her attack.
“It’s been a lovely visit, Uncle. Now that the towerhouse is ready for Lady Ceana we can be on our way to Duncladach.”
“There’s no need for you to leave yet,” said Lovat.
Fiona looked up in dismay. “No need? While there are many things yet to do, they’re best done by those who will be living there.”
He raised an eyebrow. Did all lairds learn to do that from birth? Her father, and Cameron, were the same. So was Angus!
“But uncle,” she said as meekly as possible with her jaw tight, “the wall is done. Even the roof, though there's scrubbing to be done.”
He leaned forward. “I will say who does what, and when 'tis done. Aye?”
Anna, standing behind her chair, nudged her before she could say more. She dropped her eyes into her lap, which held her clenched fists. She wanted her men so bad she was ready to stomp up that hill and—
Lovat had her watched during the day. There was nothing stopping her from visiting them at night. She should be able to avoid the few guards around the edges of the camp.
“I do not wish to be idle. Is there something you wish me to do?” she asked, pretending meek obedience.
“Write a letter to Laird Cameron thanking him for his hospitality. I will be taking out the guard for a few days. Anna says your cooking skills are improving. I wish a demonstration on my return.”
“Of course. I wish you Godspeed, Uncle.”
Godspeed far away from here so the guard would relax, and she could sneak away!
She kept a sweet, placid look as she retreated. She fretted until she heard him ride away with what sounded like a good number of guards.
Tonight she would finally be alone with Angus and Gillis!
* * * *
“What do ye mean Fiona is nay comin’?” demanded Gillis.
Lovat had arrived complete with a full guard. He’d inspected everything, not saying a word that wasn’t necessary. A sick feeling of dread, combined with fury, had Gillis taking a step closer. The man was purposefully keeping Fiona from them. Taunting them!
“We built yer bloody wall,” he said in a near-whisper. “We carried yer goods up those bedamned stairs and set them where Fiona and Anna wished. Then we moved them again, and again, until they were back where they started.” His voice rose with each sentence. “We havena tried to bed our wife, though God knows she wants us to. And now ye say ye are keeping her in yer tent?”
“Aye.” Lovat stared back, his face a mask of calm. “Her face and hands were turning brown. It is not attractive in a lady so she will stay inside, mending. When I have judged—”
“Ye judged us afore ye saw us!”
“All along ye planned to keep the lass,” said Angus, his voice like ice. “Ye got the two
of us to do all this for ye”—his hand movement encompassed the whole bailey—”while ye played yer lairdship games. Nay more. Tell yer men to step aside.”
“My guards will stay where they are, and so will you,” said Lovat.
Gillis growled deep in his throat.
“Ye are holding my wife hostage,” said Angus, cold and quiet. “Do ye wish a feud? Cameron helps ye keep this wee strip of land open. If ye harm the daughter of his wife’s good friend—”
“Fiona is no hostage, she’s my guest.”
“Good. She can leave with us,” said Gillis.
“She stays.”
“Where were ye when Fiona needed protection from her father?” demanded Angus. “He beat her. He starved her. He denied her a life as his daughter. And now ye say ye are such a loving uncle?” He snorted with contempt. “Ye took his word that she’d died. Yer spies didna tell ye of the strange laddie, a bastard son who came from nowhere?”
Angus turned his back on the laird and strode toward the gate. Gillis followed, eager for a fight.
“Step aside,” said Angus quietly to the guard. The man barely moved his head in denial. “I repeat, step aside. Ye are standing between me and my lawful wife.”
“Take one step outside that gate, MacDougal, and Fiona will never be yours,” said Lovat.
“She already is ours, body, mind and soul,” replied Angus without turning.
“Only if I allow it.” Lovat gave a low chuckle. “I have sent a letter to the bishop, along with a bag of gold to help him think. You, and my niece, shall wait until I receive his reply. I have a man in mind for Fiona, someone who will give her everything she needs.”
“Aye, a man with land and wealth who will treat her like a bird in a cage, clipping her wings and killing her spirit. She would rather be with us, with nothing,” said Angus.
“If I offer a cask of gold will you leave here without her and never return?”
Gillis’s head near popped off from rage. “When will ye learn that Fiona is worth more to us than gold?”
“Your laird may not agree.”
“My laird brother is nay here,” replied Angus. He turned from the gate to face Lovat head-on. “Somerled will welcome Fiona and her wealth of mind, body, and spirit, with open arms. Another brother will marry wealth for the clan.”
Gillis could take no more. He strode forward, stopping a mere foot from the guard.
“Move,” he roared, “or I shall move ye.”
“If you don’t turn around you will be tossed in the pit,” said Lovat.
“Angus, ‘tis time for my berserker rage, aye?”
“Rage away. ‘Tis victory or death.”
Gillis inhaled. “Buaidh no bàs!”
His fist took out the first man before the others attacked.
Chapter Seventeen
Fiona peeked out the slit in her uncle’s tent. She’d been ordered to remain inside, hidden from all while her uncle was away. She was furious and frustrated. He wouldn’t say when he’d be back or where he was going. It was not her business, but if she knew how long he’d be gone and his guards relaxed…
She didn’t know what game Lovat was playing, but she’d had about all she could take. Darach Cameron's wedding would be over by now and the Grants gone. There was nothing keeping them on Fraser land. She no longer cared to have her uncle involved in her life. If this was how he treated her, and her husbands, she wanted nothing to do with him!
She checked to make sure her lad’s clothes and boots were still hidden where she’d put them. She’d snuck a knife to go in her boot as well. As soon as it got dark enough she was gone. She wouldn’t be able to take the horses as they’d be guarded, but she would meet with Angus and Gillis and talk. They would make a plan. Cameron land wasn’t far. They should be able to walk there before morning.
Of course, before they talked she would show them how much she missed them. At least twice. Each. That would add some time to their escape plans.
She went back to the tedious work of hemming sheets. Was there anything worse? Perhaps embroidering the laird’s initials on one corner of them. Since nobody else used his sheets why would he need to have his initials on them? Did he tend to lose them?
“Ouch!” She sucked on her finger. She’d stabbed herself, again. He didn’t want bloodstains on his sheets so she would have to stop sewing. The rumble of approaching horses and men drew her back to the slit in the tent wall. Hellfire! The guards were returning! She took a closer look. Some had blood on their faces. There could not have been a battle as she saw no major injuries. Lovat stopped to talk to someone so his men entered camp ahead of him.
“Who’s fist ran into yer nose, Dougie?” demanded a passing guard, laughing.
“Damn MacDougals.” Dougie gently touched his nose. “They didna wish to go quietly, like good lads. Took all of us to stuff them into the pit.”
Into the pit? Her dear uncle had thrown her husbands into the towerhouse dungeon? She backed away, mind racing and heart thumping. Gillis would be frantic, and—
“My lady—”
Fiona whirled around. Anna looked as wild as Fiona felt. “What do ye ken of this?”
“‘Tis all gone bad, my lady!” Anna twisted her hands nervously, as if washing them. “I shouldna speak of it, but I must. The laird said he canna trust Iain to be his man no more. He put Hugh in his place as captain!”
Fiona took Anna’s cold hands in hers. Her friend had hoped Iain would change her life. If he was turned away he would no longer be a Fraser. If Anna left with him they’d have no clan or family unless another laird accepted them. Who would want a guard captain who’d refused to obey his laird?
“You said Iain’s been with him all his life. What did he do that was so bad?”
Anna pulled away. She folded her arms over her belly, as if in pain. “When Lovat said to put yer men in the pit Iain said ‘twas wrong. The laird said he was too old and soft and was no longer captain. He may even send him away!” She fell to her knees. “I beg ye to take me with ye, and Iain as well, when ye go.”
Would her uncle really dismiss his guard captain for standing up for her husbands? If so, he was even worse than she’d thought. All those kindly manners hid a man almost as bad as her father.
“Aye, the two of ye will leave with us. I dinna ken if Duncladach has a place for ye, but Laird Cameron might.”
Anna’s relief was short. “Ye ken the laird has your men in the pit?”
Her fury, and fear, returned in a blast. “Aye. Do ye ken why?”
“The laird said they were to stay away from ye until he heard back from the bishop. They say he sent a letter, and a pouch of gold coins, asking to have yer marriage annulled.”
Fiona shook her head in disbelief. He’d sent a letter to the bishop? She was not going to stay and wait for Lovat to haul her to his castle, far from her husbands.
“I’m going to them.”
“Not now, my lady,” pleaded Anna. “Wait until tonight. Iain would guard ye, but he is watched and canna leave camp. I’ll pretend ye are here, with the flux. The laird will stay far away from ye.”
“I canna ask ye to go against yer laird.”
“Iain already has.” She looked down. “I can bow to a different laird. There will never be another Iain.”
Fiona made the decision for her husbands. A well-seasoned guard captain might be welcomed by the MacDougals. She needed a companion, and Anna was perfect, as she knew housekeeping and had helped raise her siblings. If there were no women at Duncladach then Anna’s knowledge would be needed. Fiona touched her lower belly. She might already be with child.
“I shall act the empty-headed lass through dinner. Then I shall take to my bed early. I have to get them out of the pit. I’ll need a rope, and food.” Her pussy began to purr in anticipation. “And a clean blanket for them to lie me on.”
“Ye’d do that in a dungeon?”
“My first time ever was in the Campbell pit with Gillis.” She smiled in memory.
“And it was fine. Very fine.”
Anna, eyes wide, gulped. “I shall lie in yer bed with the covers over my head. Should anyone come close, I’ll moan.”
“Why don’t ye invite Iain in. He’ll make ye moan.”
“My lady!”
“I am no lady, Anna. I’m a hot-blooded wife who needs a few weeks of swiving with the men she loves.”
“Ye love them?”
Fiona hadn’t realized she’d said the words. It took but a second to nod her agreement.
“Aye, I love them both. If not, I would not go near that pit.”
A few hours later the rising moon helped Fiona find the path. No one stopped her as she left the camp and climbed to the tower. She vaguely realized that this shouldn’t have happened but was too eager to get to her destination to think. She had enough on her mind. She carried a sack over her back, one Anna had filled with bread, cheese, and a well-cooked joint. The blanket added extra weight, but she brought it anyway, remembering the chill of Campbell hospitality. She hoped, while knowing it wasn’t likely, to find a rope when she got there. She couldn’t go out of Lovat’s tent to look, and Anna, being one of the few females in camp, was closely watched during the day.
She decided as she trudged uphill that it didn’t really matter that she couldn’t get Angus and Gillis out. She had to be with them. Anna didn’t know what Lovat planned, other than making her husbands stay in the dungeon until the bishop ruled in his favor. It could take months for a reply. Long before that Lovat would have taken her back to Lovat Castle. She would not leave her husbands, especially Gillis, in that hole without her for even one night.
She did not want to go there but at least they were not facing torture and a brutal death. She’d be in the cold and dark overnight, but she’d have both men to keep her warm. It could be longer if Lovat believed Anna that she was ill, so did not look for her. And when he did, what would he do in return? Laird Fraser was not known to be as cruel as her father. Surely he would realize that if she would go into a pit to be with her men she would not change her mind about wishing to stay with the MacDougals even if he locked in his castle.