Although he had promised Kate -- just hours before she succumbed to the Black Death -- that he would someday open his heart to another woman, he hadn’t. He couldn’t.
To his bones he believed that if he did by chance, open his heart to another woman, he would be saying goodbye to Kate permanently. He didn’t have the strength, nor the desire, to do that. She had been his whole world. He was not ready yet to say goodbye to her.
Rowan knew that were it not for Lily, he would have died from a broken heart long ago.
Lily.
Rowan’s lips curved into a warm smile when he thought of his little girl. Lily was the only reason he took one breath after another. She was his sole reason for living.
His beautiful daughter, with her curly auburn hair and big blue eyes, was his entire life now. Lily was the light of his life. Spoiled, but not so much that people did not want to be near her. Nay, he spoiled her in other ways.
She was the only four-year-old girl he knew who owned a sword made specifically for her size, along with a quiver and bow. She loved to be out of doors, riding with her father, traipsing across the countryside. He was allowing her to do all the things her mother had wanted to do as a child, but was prohibited from doing. Rowan was fully determined to give Lily the kind of care-free life her mother never had but had longed for, allowing her to do things that would have driven his mother mad.
He chuckled slightly at the thought of his mother. Enndolynn would have been a good grandmother for Lily. She would have taught her how to be a prim and proper young lass. Rowan would concede that point. Oh, how he wished his mum had lived, just to see the look on her face the first time Lily rode astride or pulled the string on a bow! An all-out brawl between he and his mum would have quickly ensued, but it was a fight he would have loved to have fought. As much as he hated to admit it, he missed his mother.
Rowan’s thoughts were disturbed by the sound of horses heading toward their camp. He and his men quickly pulled themselves to their feet as Frederick, Rowan’s second in command, came pounding into the camp followed by five other clansmen.
Frederick was off his horse and walking toward Rowan before the horse had even come to a complete halt. From the look of dread on Frederick’s face, Rowan could tell it was not good news he brought with him.
“Rowan!” Frederick exclaimed as he raced forward. His clothes, as well as his ginger-colored hair, clung to him, soaked with sweat. Out of breath, his chest heaved in and out.
A thousand thoughts raced through Rowan’s mind, and Frederick had yet to utter a word as to why he was here.
Lily. She would be the only reason why Frederick would be here, looking as though the world was about to come to an end. Frederick’s next words would confirm Rowan’s thoughts.
“’Tis Lily!” he blurted out.
Oh, God, do no’ let her be dead! Rowan thought as he braced himself for the worst possible news. He tried to still his nerves, to push the images of an injured, ill or worse yet, dead, daughter from his frantic mind.
“Is she ill?” Rowan somehow managed to speak the question. His mouth and throat felt horribly dry.
Frederick shook his head and took a deep breath before answering. “Nay,” he said before swallowing hard. “She’s been taken.”
Rowan felt the world around him begin to spin. It was all he could do to take his next breath as his heart fell to his feet.
Taken? His mind raced with possibilities and outcomes. How had anyone gotten to her? Had their keep been attacked? He could only assume that she had been taken to be held for ransom. The why was not nearly as important as the who. He needed to know whose throat he’d soon be cutting.
Several long moments passed before he found his voice. “How in the hell was she taken? Were we attacked? Who has taken her?” His words tumbled out as quickly as he thought them.
Frederick had finally managed to get his breathing under control. “We were no’ attacked, at least no’ from outside,” he answered.
Rowan’s brow drew into a knot of confusion.
Frederick did not relish the thought of explaining what had happened. He was consumed with guilt for Rowan had left him in charge. The clan had been experiencing some semblance of peace for the past year. In hindsight, it had been too much to hope for that peace would be everlasting.
The keep had been fortified. Every precaution taken to keep the clan safe in the event of an attack from outside sources. Mayhap they should have spent a little more time on shoring up defenses in the inside of the keep.
“We were attacked from within.” Frederick told him. “We do no’ ken who, yet, but someone slipped a sleeping draught into the ale last night. By the time we realized what was happening, Lily had already been taken.”
Rowan had never before worried about traitors among his clansmen. Many of his people he had known since the day he was born. There were many new clan members, people who had sought refuge with clan Graham after the black death. How could anyone betray him like this?
Frederick pulled a folded piece of parchment from within his tunic and handed it to Rowan. Rowan unfolded it and scanned the contents with angry eyes. His blood boiled with anger and he could feel his skin heat with it.
“Garrick Blackthorn,” he seethed. His fingers shook, not with fear but with unadulterated rage. If it was the last thing he did, he would see Garrick Blackthorn dead.
It seemed to Lady Arline that the past sennight had flown by. Willie was as energetic and curious as she was adorable and precious. The child was also very intelligent. It had taken very little time for Willie to figure out that Garrick Blackthorn, or the mean man as Willie had come to call him, was not a man to be trifled with. Neither were any of his men.
When Arline had asked for the opportunity to take Willie out for fresh air, she was met with a resounding “no”. She tried to explain that it would be in his best interest to insure the child was healthy when the ransom was paid and the child returned to her father. Garrick answered with a swift backhand across her cheek that left her reeling for several hours.
So they were kept in seclusion inside Arline’s private quarters. Although secluded, they were not without hope. Arline had to hold on to the belief that Willie’s father would soon pay the ransom and have his child back in the loving arms of her family. To think otherwise was a useless waste of time and energy. Worry solved nothing.
Not wanting to risk more retribution from Garrick, Arline refused to ask for anything further. She took three of her own dresses and in a matter of days had constructed two suitable dresses for the little girl, along with a cloak. Out of the remnants, Arline sewed stockings for the child’s bare feet as well as mittens. She also made tiny chemises and nightdresses from one of her older undergarments.
Arline taught the child how to sew, something she was surprised to learn the child hadn’t already been taught. It wasn’t much of a surprise to learn that the little girl had been treated more like a son than a daughter, once Arline learned that child’s mother was dead. Her poor father was, Arline had to assume, doing the best that he could under the circumstances.
Apparently Willie was being raised by a group of men. There were very few women left in their clan, Willie had informed her. Aside from the clanswomen who worked in the kitchen and the keep, there didn’t seem to be any who could take her under their wing.
It was quite evident that the child adored her father and, from what Willie said, her father adored her in return. Arline had heard of such things as father’s adoring their children, spoiling them and doting on them. She had no first hand experience for her own father was a cold, distant man.
“Da says I be the angel God sent to take care of him after me mum died,” Willie explained as she practiced her stitches. “He says God didna wan’ him to be alone. He says me mum was pretty, like me. And she was verra smart too.”
Arline listened intently as she finished the hem on the night dress she was making for the child. She envied the little girl. Aye, she’d bee
n pulled from her home, was a pawn in a ruthless game made up by foolish men. That wasn’t what she envied. What Arline coveted was the way the child loved her father, and if what the child said was true -- and she had no reason to believe otherwise -- the way he loved her. What she would not give to have her own father treasure her thusly.
“Me da will come fer me,” Willie told her as she carefully pulled the bone needle through the cloth. “He will run the mean man through with his sword.”
Arline looked up from her own sewing and eyed the child. She wasn’t bragging. It was a statement of fact in her eyes. How wonderful it must be to have such faith in another individual. Especially one’s own father.
A thought suddenly occurred to Arline. What if her father doesn’t come for her? What if he cannot pay the ransom? She shuddered at the prospect. What if what Willie was telling her was only the fanciful notions -- or worse yet, wishful thinking -- of a very young child? There was a very strong possibility that Willie’s father might not have the funds necessary to procure her freedom. What then? What would Garrick do?
Arline had witnessed his ruthlessness on many occasions this past year. There was nothing in their history together that would lead her to believe he would show the slightest bit of compassion toward the child.
Panic welled. Her mind screamed what her heart already knew. Garrick will kill this child.
There was no doubt of it. He would kill her if he did not get what he wanted. He certainly wouldn’t keep the child around until her father could come up with the ransom. Arline’s mind raced with worry. How long had Garrick given Willie’s father to pay the ransom? A fortnight? A month? She had no definitive answer and could not begin to guess.
Willing her nerves to settle, she went back to her sewing. She needed a plan of escape, a way out of this castle. Guards patrolled the corridors virtually around the clock. No doubt Garrick had doubled the men outside as well, on the off chance that Willie’s father would be more inclined to attack than pay.
Walking through the front door and out of the gate was out of the question. Arline chewed on her bottom lip as she tried to focus on the stitches. The last thing she wanted was for Willie to pick up on the fact that she was worried. Nay, not worried. Terrified.
As she tried to think through the situation, she poked her finger with the bone needle and cursed out loud.
Willie giggled. “Ye said damn!”
Arline cast her a disapproving look as she sucked on her finger. “Young lasses should no’ use such words, Willie.”
“Ye did,” Willie challenged.
“Aye, and ’twas wrong of me to do so. I’ll have to say extra penance tonight fer it. Ye’ll do the same fer repeatin’ me words.”
“Da lets me say damn,” Willie told her.
As if her father had anything to say on the matter. “Yer prayers have just been doubled, Willie. And if ye dare say it again, ye’ll go to bed early.”
Willie stared back at Arline. Arline had to fight the urge to laugh. She could tell the child was thinking hard on her threat. Mayhap the child was used to having her own way with her father or mayhap she was simply testing her boundaries. Either way, it mattered not to Arline. She would not have the child go back to her father using foul language.
Willie turned her attention back to the scrap of cloth. “I do no’ like sewin’. I’d rather be out of doors playin’.”
Arline couldn’t argue with her. She too would have preferred to be out of doors, taking in fresh air, walking through the autumn leaves, anywhere but in this room or this old, damp castle.
Arline went back to her project. There had to be a way out. Mayhap she could bribe one of the guards? But with what? The promise that as soon as she turned five and twenty she would send him money from the funds her father held for her? Even she wouldn’t be inclined to help someone on that promise.
Nay, there had to be a way out. Over the past year, she had discovered a few passages hidden behind walls and tapestries. But they had led to nowhere other than the gathering room below stairs and the kitchens. She had supposed they had at one time been used by servants. Over the decades rooms and additional stories had been added onto the original castle. Endless stairs that led to nowhere could be found quite easily.
But, could there also be stairs that led to freedom? Arline had to believe there were. Even the home she grew up in had hidden escape routes. And it was by no means a castle.
Arline looked out the window at the bright autumn day. The trees were just beginning to turn. Arline knew that very soon the autumn rains would begin and likely not cease for quite some time. All too soon rain would turn to snow.
But she wouldn’t be here to see another winter. In less than two weeks her marriage to Garrick would end. He would have it annulled and she would be sent back to her father.
If Willie’s father did not pay the ransom before she was sent back to Ireland, then who would care for her? Her heart went heavy with the thought of this sweet, innocent child left alone in the care of servants or, worse yet, Garrick’s men.
Arline could not allow that to happen. She had to find a way out and had to find it quickly. No matter what the consequences if she were caught, she had to do what she could for Willie’s sake.
As soon as night fell and Willie was lost in peaceful slumber, Arline would begin what she could only pray would be the first step toward freedom. She would find a way out.
Four
It had taken Arline five nights of prowling through black corridors and hidden passages before she finally found a way out. Blessed Mary, she had done it!
She had found a small hidden door in the small chamber she used as a dressing room, and she had found it quite by accident. She’d been rummaging through her trunk looking for buttons to use as eyes for a doll she had made for Willie. The buttons were mismatched, but Arline was certain that Willie wouldn’t mind.
She had dropped one of the buttons behind the trunk when she shut the lid. In her search for the errant button, she had felt a draft coming in from the wall behind the tapestry where the trunk had sat all these many months.
It had not been an easy feat, after three nights of scraping her hands and knees from crawling around on rough stones, bumping her head, running into dead ends, she had finally found the way out.
Tonight would be the night. Her marriage would undoubtedly be annulled in three days. More likely than not, Garrick would send her away as soon as the priest granted him his request.
There was no time to lose and there was too much at stake if she waited.
Arline breathed a sigh of relief when she finally crawled through the hidden doorway and back into her room. Willie slept soundly, curled into a little ball in the big bed, her little thumb thrust into her mouth. The child slept like that each night, one thumb in her mouth whilst the index finger of her other hand was wrapped around a curl.
As quietly as she could, Arline scrubbed away the grime she had accumulated during her sojourn through the dark passages. Dawn had yet to break over the horizon and she had no desire to have Willie wake just yet. For the past several nights, Arline had forgone sleep in order to find a way out of the castle.
If they were to escape tonight, Arline would need more than just a few minutes rest. She did not enjoy the thought of running through the countryside with a small child in tow on very little sleep. She needed to keep her wits about her.
After stripping off her stockings, rinsing them and hanging them by the fire to dry, Arline slipped quietly into the bed. She soon found that she was too excited and nervous to sleep. Mentally she ran through her list of supplies, limited and sparse as they were.
Since she had made the decision to find a means of escape, she had been preparing. She hoarded away small slices of bread and cheese, sewed extra stockings and added a lining to Willie’s cloak. She had even taken a blanket, cut holes in it and affixed straps so that she might be able to carry Willie on her back when the child grew weary.
Arline hadn
’t the foggiest idea how close the nearest town might be for she had not left the castle since her arrival last year. She had remembered passing through several small villages and towns when Garrick had brought her here. From her recollection, she felt certain they were all to the south. With little else to go on she had to be comfortable in that decision.
Once she and Willie -- she refused to think of ‘ifs’ -- reached a village, she would make the ultimate sacrifice. She would send word to her father.
That was the only part of her plan that made her apprehensive.
Until Willie had arrived, her only goal once her marriage was annulled, was to travel as far away from her father as she could manage. She only had to survive until her birthday, which fell around Christmastime. Once she reached the age of five and twenty, she would no longer be forced to heed her father’s bidding. She would be free to go wherever she wished. And never again, would she be subjected to an arranged marriage and the humility such unions brought.
But that was before Willie.
She was afraid that if she let it be known that the child she travelled with belonged to Rowan Graham, then word would quickly spread and Garrick would find them. She could not allow that to happen.
It was worth the sacrifice of her own freedom to see to it that Willie was reunited with her father. Mayhap she could put her father off a few months, feign an illness, or simply run away once Willie was returned safely to the loving arms of her father.
As tired and exhausted as she was, sleep continued to evade her. She wondered about Willie’s father. What kind of man was he? He had to be a good man and a kind father, Arline supposed, else Willie wouldn’t idolize him as she did.
Although she had sworn off men and hopes of a happy marriage and babes of her own, there were times, like this, when sleep was elusive and the cold air enveloped her, that she did wish to have a set of warm, strong arms wrapped around her. The thought of warm arms left her with a huge sense of longing.
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