She smoothed her hair back from her face and took a deep breath. The laird and her father would both be furious to discover that she had gone to the dungeon in the first place. Would Struan even care that the man had been beaten? That fear drove her back to her chamber's door.
She shouldn't be concerned about the impostor held prisoner below. He had deceived the clan and he had fooled her into believing that he was Alex MacKendimen, the real Alex who left with the king five years ago.
She thought back to that time when she was still a girl and he was a younger man. Shaking her head, she remembered hoping that he would turn into her gallant knight when he grew up. They would live happily ever after and rule over the Clan MacKendimen together.
Now, it was obvious that he had spent either not enough or too much time with David in London. All the cruelties and coarseness she recalled had grown even more pronounced. The impostor never spoke to her as Sandy had in the hall. Her face flamed as she thought of Sandy's accusation of being a whore in front of Struan and the gathered clan. The impostor had never beaten her, even when she had given him provocation. The man called Alex treated her with respect and mayhap a bit of affection. She had never seen him abuse anyone or anything while he was here.
Alex had also stopped her when she offered herself to him that night in his room. He had tried to protect her then, protect her from herself and her own foolish actions. And she had repaid him by beating the woman he brought with him.
Maggie? Where was she? Was she really his leman? Did they both come from England? Or were they sent by the damned MacArthurs as her father had suggested to Struan? If he was sent to take her as bride and claim her dowry of land on their behalf, the MacArthurs stood to gain much. And the wedge they drove between the MacNabs and the MacKendimens would be even more powerful than the land they claimed.
She leaned against the stone wall and shook her head. Nay, this man had rejoiced when the wedding was delayed. If he was part of a plot, he would have come here and married her quickly, without delay. This made no sense.
Well, while she stood here and tried to figure this out, he was lying on the dungeon floor, beaten and bloodied. He had defended her yesterday when Sandy asked his crude questions. She knew his hands, bound as they were, had kept her from falling when Sandy slapped her. She owed him at least a kindness in return. She would tell Struan and let him decide what to do. She walked directly to Struan's door and knocked loudly on it. "Laird Struan, may I have a word with you?" The door opened quickly and she saw a shocked look on the laird's face.
"Anice, come in. Yer faither will be here shortly. Do ye wish to wait for him?"
"Nay, Struan, I do not think waiting will help." He offered her a cup of cider and a stool, but she refused both. Her stomach still clenched tightly with the news she carried.
"Laird, I was down to the dungeon and..."
"Down to the dungeon, Anice? Is that such a good thing for my betrothed to be doing?" The voice came out of the shadows at the other end of Struan's chamber. She had not seen him there!
"Sandy! I beg yer pardon, I didna see ye there."
"Obviously. But, pray, continue with your news of the dungeon."
She could not let him know that she had seen the beating. In an instant, she realized that the next one beaten would be her. She might be safe if she did not reveal all that she knew about Alex's treatment in the dungeon.
"Struan, I know that I shouldn't see him, but I had questions to ask of... the prisoner. I went there a short time ago and found him in his cell..."
"Of course, he's in a cell, my dear, he is a traitor and a spy." Sandy's emphasis on the last word sent a shiver of fear through her tense body. He knew! He must have seen her there or leaving. "What I mean is... he has been tied and beaten, Struan. I did not know you had ordered it."
"I didna! When did you see him?" Struan strode to the door and flung it open. His voice reverberated down the hall as he barked out names.
Within seconds, the room was jammed with people, all awaiting the laird's orders. Someone was sent for the healer, and the rest of the retinue followed Struan's long, fast steps down to the hall, then down to the dungeon. The guard was nowhere to be found. The corridor of cells was overflowing with torches.
Struan reached the end room first and stopped in his tracks. Anice bumped into the back of him and others into her. She heard his indrawn breath and his whispered "Alex."
"Get back, all of you!" he yelled.
She jumped from the loudness of his command. She would stay, she decided, and took a few steps back into the same alcove where she had hidden earlier.
"Tell Jean to bring hot water and bandages from the kitchen."
"Aye, Struan," came the reply from those closer to the stairs.
Struan took a step into the room, toward Alex, when Sandy's voice stopped him.
"Faither, your concern for this mon 'tis unseemly. So what if a prisoner is beaten before going to the gallows? His pain will end soon enough."
Sandy stood next to her now, his leg and elbow purposely rubbing against her body. She leaned as far away as she could to escape his touch.
"Gallows? Ye have decided to hang him then, Struan?" The question was out before she could stop it.
"Of course he will be hanged, my dear. The clan's honor demands nothing less." The son answered for his father.
Struan walked up to Sandy, as close as he could get to the man. She strained to hear his words.
"I will decide his fate, Sandy, not ye."
"I would never think to interfere with your justice, Faither. As long as he pays for what he did to this clan's honor, to mine, and, of course, to my betrothed's, I care not what happens to him." She looked at his face and saw he wore a disinterested expression, but his eyes gleamed with hatred.
"Good. Ye have been away for a long time and have much to learn afore ye take my place as laird. Now, go from here and await me in the hall."
Sandy made a bow to Struan and held out his hand to her.
"Come, dear Anice. Let us spend some time together and reacquaint ourselves. Our marriage day is fast approaching."
Anice tried not to let her fear show through. Struan took one look at her and his eyes widened.
"Stay in the hall, Sandy. I will have need of ye both shortly."
"Of course, Faither."
She let him lead her from the dungeon without comment or incident. She would be courteous and attentive, as her mother had trained her to be. Sandy would not find fault with her wifely abilities or training in the ways of the English court.
As she thought about the look in his eyes, Anice knew it might be the death of her if she ever revealed the person behind the beating. Now that Alex would be tended to, she had to look out for herself.
* * *
"Weel, Moira, will I survive?" He cleared his throat but didn't put much force behind for fear of coughing.
"Yer beating? Oh, aye, ye will survive it. The bruises look worse than they are, and the bleeding has all but stopped from yer torn cheek and nose. Ye are lucky that none of yer ribs broke. I have bound them tightly. They will feel better soon."
"Will I survive my trip to the Clan MacKendimen?"
He probably should not force the issue with her.
"I canna see that, Alex. Many of things but no' that."
"Why did Struan send for ye, if he plans to hang me?"
"Struan is verra confused now. His feelings for ye and his feelings for his son are twisted together, and he does not know what to do. He haes listened to Sandy." She snorted after she said his name and Alex wanted to laugh. The bindings around his chest stopped him. "He haes listened to his kith and kin and e'en the MacNab. His first instinct was to hang ye, right away. He was more angry than I have ever seen him to be."
"What stopped him, do ye think?" Alex had his own suspicion.
"Between ye and me? I think that Struan likes ye and as the Alex, ye are better than the real one who haes returned."
"Ye think so?" Alex shift
ed on the narrow cot and held his side. He wanted to sit up, but the binding made getting up very difficult.
"I do. Ye were a good Alex for the clan. Unfortunately for us, ye are no' the real one."
"And that... fop is?"
"He is the heir to Struan. When ye are gone and Struan is dead... Weel, do not worry, the clan haes survived other, worse lairds."
"There is something that does worry me, Moira." He reached out to her and she pulled him up to his feet. Ah, better, much better, he thought.
"I know what ye will say, Alex. Ye have found a soft spot in yer heart for Anice, have ye no'?"
"Aye. The thought of that innocent being in the power of that slime is too much to bear. Do ye think we could try to take her wi' us when we try the arch?" He practiced taking deeper breaths. Standing up was a definite improvement over lying down.
"Nay, Alex. Anice's place and future is wi’ the clan. She canna leave."
"'Twas just a thought."
"She will make her way here fine after ye are gone. She haes grit. It will be difficult for her at times, but whose life isna tough at times?"
"Maggie. Ye have no' said a word about Maggie."
"She is safe and hiding. She isna a verra patient one, I will say that about her."
"I have to agree wi' ye, Moira. Maggie canna stand a slow pace. Ye have my thanks for keeping her safe." He watched Moira gather her bandages and medicaments into a large basket. "There is one more request I would make of ye."
Moira stood and looked at him, waiting. This one request was harder to make than he first thought it would be. Moira had given him no indication of how things would turn out. She insisted she didn't know, but he thought otherwise. If he was not able to escape the gallows, he wanted to make sure that Maggie would be safe.
"If I canna get out of this mess, can ye get Maggie to the arch and make her try it alone?"
"Alone?"
"Aye, alone. I will go to my death easier if I know that she will at least try to get home. And, if she canna, will ye find her a safe place to live? Watch over her for me?"
"'Tis important to ye?" She looked him straight in the eyes as she asked. He felt as if she was looking into his heart, his soul.
"Verra. I may no' get a chance to try it, but she must."
"I will try to convince her, Alex." She walked to the door and called out to the guard.
"It bothers me to know that I canna protect the woman I love. That I must ask others to do it for me."
Moira gifted him with a bright smile that didn't match the situation or the atmosphere. "'Tis what friends are for, Alex. I will do what I can." To the guard, she said "Send word to the laird that I am done here. He wishes to speak to the prisoner."
"How much can I tell Struan? I dread lying to the mon."
"Tell him the truth of it when ye can. But, 'tis most important that ye no' reveal the truth of who ye really are or how ye came to be here."
Moira left the room, following the guard down the hall. He walked to the chair and straddled it, easing down onto the seat. Struan would waste no time in coming to him now that he was awake and his injuries were treated.
* * *
As he expected, he didn't wait long. He heard Struan's voice giving orders to the guard and he began to stand as he heard the key turn in the lock.
"Ye may stay sitting down."
"Thank ye. It feels better to sit for now."
Tension filled the small room as they faced each other across it. Alex waited. Struan should have the first word.
"Who are ye?"
"I am Alex MacKendimen."
"There is only one Alesander MacKendimen in this clan, and he sits above us in the hall. Are ye a bastard that I didna know? Who is yer mother? Where does she live?" Struan barked out the questions without pause.
"I can only tell ye that my name is Alex MacKendimen and that we are kinsmen." Distant relations and dozens of generations apart, he didn't add.
"Leave that for now. Why are ye here?"
"I canna say."
Alex watched the frustration grow on the man's face. He wished he could settle the confusion, but he had no choice. His truth must remain unspoken.
"Are ye a spy for the MacArthurs? Do ye plot wi' them to take Anice and her dowry from my son?"
"Nay, Struan, I wasna sent by the MacArthurs."
"Who then? Who sent ye?" Struan stalked across the room and stood in front of him.
"I canna say."
Regret at this avoidance of satisfying Struan's need to know tore at his heart. He had grown to like many things about Struan. He respected him. He hated doing this to him.
"Canna? Or willna?" the man shouted.
Alex didn't insult him with an answer.
He watched the laird walk to the door and lean against it, looking out the small, barred opening.
"Who beat ye this morn?"
He wanted to charge the guilty one, but he held his tongue. Sandy would be here after Alex was gone and could cause much trouble for both Struan and Anice. He ignored the question, and asked one of his own.
"Will Anice be safe wi' Sandy?"
"Safe enough." Struan turned back to look at him, and they shared a moment of common disbelief.
"Try to keep her safe from his abuse, Struan. She is an innocent and does not deserve what he brings to their marriage."
"I will do everything in my power to keep her safe, Alex." Struan frowned. "Ye didna bed her as I suggested. Why no'?"
"She is but fifteen years and wasna meant for me. And, there was Maggie to consider."
"Do ye know where she is?"
"Maggie?"
Struan nodded.
"Nay, she disappeared when yer son returned and found us at the loch," Alex answered truthfully.
"So ye did disobey my orders and meet wi' her?" Alex could swear Struan's voice lightened a bit.
"Aye, sir, I did."
"Weel, I hope she is safe and long gone from here. Sandy speaks of finding her and using her to get the truth from ye." Alex started to stand, he had to...
"Nay, Alex, do not fret. I do no' hold wi' using women as weapons. The lass never hurt anyone here, and I ended the search for her just after I ordered it."
"Thank ye for that, Struan. She means ye no harm."
"Ye know what they are demanding for ye?"
Alex nodded. Again he asked rather than answered. "Are ye going to hang me then?"
"If it were just me, I wouldna. But 'tis the clan's honor at stake here. I must uphold that or I am nothing. Not fit to lead or serve."
"I understaun, Struan."
"And ye willna answer my questions. Give me something to pacify yer accusers?"
"Nay, Struan, I canna. I am sorry."
"Nay, lad, I am sorry. I have come to like ye and regret sending ye to yer death without understauning the why of it."
Struan walked to the door and called for the guard. Alex stood to face the laird one more time.
"If ye change yer mind after ye think on it, tell the guard to come to me. If ye do not, ye will hang tomorrow at noon."
Alex fought the urge to scream out the truth. He didn't want to act the brave warrior in this fantasy come to life. Maybe Moira was wrong. Maybe Struan would understand about the arch. Maybe he would let Maggie come to him and help them to get home.
Moira had not been wrong yet in her knowledge, her wisdom. If he didn't follow her instructions, he feared being trapped in this time and place. He would risk it if he was alone, but there was Maggie to consider.
In the end, he just shook his head at Struan and watched as the MacKendimen left his cell.
Chapter 43
"Come now, Angus, open the lad's door. I canna carry the torch and open it, too."
"Brodie, are ye sure the laird said this was permitted?" Brodie softened his voice in speaking to the guard. "Angus, the mon dies on the morrow. Would ye deny him his last good meal and a bit of comfort on his last night in the world?"
Maggie kept her
head tilted down so that the hood of her cape hid her face. She held her breath as Brodie convinced the guard to let them enter Alex's room. She spied the opening in the door and fought the urge to peek inside. No, let Brodie get us in. He promised it would work, so she waited. Before the guard answered, she heard Alex moving around the room.
"Let me get him settled inside and then I brought a flask of something verra good for us to share while we wait."
The guard paused, apparently weighing his choices. "Who is it that ye bring to him? Why is she covered?"
"'Tis Robena, from the village. Angus, ye know how Lady Anice feels about whores being in the keep. I had to hide her face to get her past without trouble."
The two men laughed loud and long while Maggie waited. The tray of food she carried was heavy. The dirk fastened to the bottom of the tray added to its weight. Maggie shifted her hold on her burden. The men finally noticed.
"Weel, Brodie, she can pass inside, but ye must stay wi' me." Angus took a step closer to her. "And, I must search the lass for weapons." Oh. God!
"Go ahead, Angus. Ye may find something, but it willna be a weapon."
Brodie did as he must and so would she. Brodie stuck the torch in the wall and took the tray from her. The guard approached her from behind and put his huge arms and beefy hands around her. He took a breast in each hand and squeezed them.
Maggie forced a giggle out, she was supposed to be the village whore who was used to being mauled by these men. She relaxed her body, not fighting or resisting his caresses. He rubbed his body against hers as his hands fondled her.
"No weapons there, Brodie. Now," he slid his hands down past her hips, one in front, one in back, "what about here?" He pushed his hands between her legs and rubbed there. She made herself think of Alex and why she was here. The groping, done through several layers of clothing, was over quickly.
"She can go in now, Brodie. Mayhap I can get a taste of her when she's done wi' the prisoner?" Angus was practically drooling with lust now—she heard it in his voice and felt him panting behind her.
"Weel, let's see if she can still walk when he gets done wi' her."
A Love Through Time Page 28