Redemption (Book Two of the Shipwrecked Series)

by Jenna Stone

  I stuck to Nathan’s side as he led me inside the castle to an enormous room, lined with many large wooden tables. There was a small group of women sizing me up from across the room. I could feel their gossip lingering in the air even though they were now silent. I was afraid to leave Nathan’s side being that he had been kind to me so far. I peered around him and noticed that there was a roaring fire at the far side of the room, casting a somewhat inviting glow on the stone walls.

  “I’ll leave ye here now, mistress,” Nathan said as he pried my fingers off his arm.

  I hadn’t realized that I had been clinging to him, and was instantly embarrassed.

  “Where are you going?” I asked him, voice betraying me and trembling with desperation. I was alarmed at the prospect of my new friend leaving me alone to deal with the gossiping women. They way that they looked at me was unsettling.

  “I need tae go let the Laird ken that yer here, I’ll be back in no time,” he said encouragingly, picking up on the fact that I was nervous about him leaving me. “They’ll take good care of ye, get ye something more tae eat. Ye won’t even miss me.” He chuckled and backed slowly away from me as if he expected me to lunge at him at any moment.

  I shifted my gaze to the flock of women who were moving in on me from across the room. Nathan’s departure had been all the invitation that they needed to take over my care. My caretakers consisted of a group of middle aged women, clucking and stewing as they pulled me forth into the large room. They settled me at a wooden bench at the table nearest the fire.

  “Are ye hungry?” an older woman with gray hair secured in a bun at the nape of her neck asked with a distinct Scottish lilt.

  “Can we bring ye anything?” a second, younger looking woman clucked, nervously awaiting my reply.

  “Sit, sit,” a third woman pressed me down gently towards the bench.

  Their eyes scanned my face, all seeming anxious for my reply, clearly eager to cater to whatever I wished. I felt smothered by their overwhelming attention. They were trying to be welcoming, trying to set me at ease, but still I sensed their hesitance. As women often do, they were holding me at a safe distance, gauging my character. I felt as though they were testing to see if I could be trusted.

  “Um, sure. I’d love some food, I’ve had a long day,” I smiled uncomfortably, eyes darting between the three women.

  “Food!” the plump older woman with the bun bellowed, and then faked a smile.

  As if she had been waiting for the signal, a young woman carrying a tray laden with bread, cheese and meat entered the great room. She smiled at me warmly but nervously as she approached. She was quite beautiful, strawberry blonde hair framed her lightly freckled face. She had bright hazel eyes and a friendly look about her that made me feel more at ease.

  “I’m Leti,” she said, setting down the tray on the wooden table and sitting down beside me on the bench. “Actually, that’s short for Leticia, but everyone calls me Leti.”

  “Kate,” I said with a tired, forced smile.

  “I know,” she met my eyes. “I’m sorry that your journey was, well…” she trailed off, not sure how to finish. “Hungry?” she asked, eyes darting towards the tray in invitation.

  Her glance was all of the invitation that I needed. I was starving. I reached for a slice of bread, slathered it with some butter, and took a very unlady-like bite.

  “I’m so sorry, Kate,” Leti blurted as I stuffed my face with the warm bread, dripping with fresh butter. She reached out and touched my arm stopping me mid bite. Her eyes searched mine. They were piercing green orbs flecked with gold.

  “Sorry about what?” I responded, feeling foolish as soon as the words had escaped my mouth. Clearly, she was trying to express her sorrow at the murder of my companions. I was sure that this news had spread quickly through whatever this place was.

  “Ohhh,” Leti responded, face draining of color. She smiled nervously and then bit her lower lip indicating that she was puzzled by my strange response to her condolences.

  “I’d rather not talk about what happened today,” I warned, trying to cover my blunder. It was true that I didn’t want to talk about the murders and as a matter-of-fact, I didn’t want to talk at all.

  Leti bit her lip again and looked away. She was fighting back tears.

  I stopped chewing and looked directly at her.

  “Has no one told ye, Kate?” she asked, searching my face for a glimmer of knowledge.

  “Told me what?” I prodded, swallowing my mouthful of bread in an unlady-like gulp.

  “The Laird, yer betrothed?” she questioned. My eyes bulged at the word “betrothed.” I waited, eyes bulging, willing her to go on. A sick feeling settled in the pit of my stomach.

  This cannot be happening.

  “He’s dead,” Leti finished her voice but a whisper. “My father is dead. Ye were tae be his wife.”

  I exhaled the breath that I hadn’t realized that I was holding. My eyes darted around the room, unwilling to look at the girl next to me. I could feel here eyes searching my face for a response.

  He’s dead. I’m still safe.

  Leti looked at me from under disapproving brows, her face scrunched visibly due to the lack of regard that I had given to her dead father. I hoped that my face didn’t show the relief that I felt.

  I resumed the chewing of my bread, unsure of what would be an appropriate response. The effort of retaining my rouse of composure was overwhelming. I felt the slight tremors of shock begin to shake in my hands and legs.

  “I’m sorry about your Father,” I said, taking a deep breath to calm myself.

  Fresh tears welled up in Leti’s eyes as she again reached out and grabbed my arm, squeezing slightly. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice trembling, relieved that I was finally acknowledging his death like any normal, sane person would. “He was a good man, and it was quite a shock to us all. The doctor says that his heart just failed,” she sniffled. “He just went to sleep and didn’t wake up the next morning.”

  “At least he wasn’t in pain,” I offered, trying to comfort this girl that I didn’t know. The wounds of losing her father unexpectedly were obviously fresh and still stinging.

  “Yer verra kind to try to comfort me after all that ye have been through today,” she smiled slightly, eyes red-rimmed from tears that she was trying to hold back.

  If she only knew what I’d been through today, I thought to myself. She wouldn’t believe half of it! I felt guilty as the thought crept into my mind that I was glad that this girl’s father was dead. Marriage was what I was running from. I must have the worst luck in the world. Running from one marriage only to narrowly elude another.

  “He would have liked ye verra much. I can tell ye that,” she smiled again, sniffling now as she battled to regain her composure. “My brothers have always said that I’m a good judge of character. I can tell right away that yer kind, thinking of others in spite of yer own troubles.”

  I took another bite of the delicious bread, chewing vigorously to avoid talking.

  “Speaking of brothers, Collin will want to speak with ye after ye have some nourishment. He’s my oldest brother, half-brother really. After Da’s passing, Collin’s the new Laird. I suppose that he’ll need to decide what to do with ye.”

  I didn’t like the statement “Decide what to do with you.” The reality of my predicament continued to settle in. I had accidentally stolen another woman’s identity, or at the very least been mistaken for Laird McClain’s betrothed and said nothing to remedy this mistake. I was in deep, deep trouble. I was resolute not to crumble and confess myself to the new Laird.

  Nathan appeared in the entry way to the great hall, and cleared his throat to get my attention. I smiled when I saw him. His face turned pink beneath his beard when he recognized that I was so happy to see him.

  “The Laird will see ye now, Mistress,” he announced, warm expression lingering on his ruddy face.

  I glanced at Leti, still chewing my last bite
of bread methodically. I was weary to the bone and dreaded my looming meeting with “The Laird.” I had been warned in England about the intricacies and the politics of the Scottish Clan system.

  Leti reached in front of me and pulled the plate away from me, as if reading my intentions of grabbing just one more bite. “Better get going,” she instructed, scooting the plate further out of my reach. “Collin doesna like tae be kept waiting,” she said with a tone of warning in her voice as she stood, lifting the plate with one hand as she smoothed her skirts with the other. I was still hungry and had to resist the impulse to tackle her and claim my unfinished dinner.

  Instead, I followed her instructions. I stood and pushed myself reluctantly away from the table. My legs were shaking from either exhaustion or fear, or a bit of both. Nathan turned around without a word and strode from the great hall. I trudged after him mechanically. I followed him down a candle lit corridor and bumped unceremoniously into his backside when he stopped abruptly at a door on our right. He knocked against the heavy wooden door twice, and was greeted with a gruff “Enter,” from within.

  Nathan swung open the door and stood in the threshold, beckoning me to go into the room with a wave of his massive hand. I stepped forward, and was surprised by the solid thunk of the door closing behind me. Apparently this was to be a private meeting.

  Collin didn’t acknowledge my presence, but sat behind a massive oak desk, chestnut crowned head bent in concentration over a stack of papers. He was a huge man, even partially concealed behind his desk. My eyes were drawn to the shear size of his hands, one holding a paper that he was intently reading and the other sprawled across the desk.

  “Sit,” he commanded, not looking up. This was not an invitation, but an order.

  I obeyed reluctantly, and sat in a wooden chair facing his desk. I was suddenly unsure of what to do with my hands while I waited for him to speak to me. I settled on clasping my now sweaty palms together in an effort not to fidget, something that I often did when nervous. I had already made up my mind that I did not like Collin McClain.

  A moment passed in silence before he finally addressed me. He eluded an air of arrogance and power, even while sitting passively at his desk. His eyes rose from whatever he had been reading to meet mine. They were green and striking. He was a handsome man with strong, masculine features. I detested him strongly right from the start, and met his gaze with my feistiest glare. Two could play at this game.

  “Did ye see the men who attacked yer people?” he asked straight-forwardly. Apparently, Collin was not the type to beat around the bush and waste time with introductions or niceties.

  “No,” I responded, refusing to let the intensity with which he was examining me with those probing green eyes intimidate me.

  He leaned back in his chair, and folded his fingers together, thinking as he studied me. “How did ye escape the attack?” he questioned, eyes still boring holes into my skin, causing my heart to race and my body temperature to rise.

  “I don’t remember,” I said. I was not a practiced liar, but I hoped that confidence would bolster my story.

  “Sae ye mean tae tell me that ye remember nothing,” he said, separating his palms so that the tips of his fingers were touching those of his matching hand.

  “I know that I woke up in the forest right before Nathan found me. I knew that they were all dead. All that I can think of is that maybe I went into the trees to relieve myself and they were attacked while I was away. I must have come upon the scene and run back into the forest. Maybe I fainted,” I offered, still meeting his green eyes, refusing to be the first to look away.

  Collin McClain was a hard man to read. He sat expressionless, starting back at me, seeming to wait for me to continue.

  “I don’t remember,” I said. “In fact, I don’t remember much about myself at all,” I added as an extra defense measure against further questioning from Collin.

  “I see,” he said, watching me. “It was unwise of yer father tae send ye with only one guard. Yer lucky tae have escaped.”

  “He didn’t think that the journey would be so dangerous,” I lied, knowing nothing of the “father” that I was defending.

  “Then he is a fool,” Collin said dismissively. “Leti will have told ye about our father’s passing now,” he stated without emotion.

  “Yes,” I muttered in acknowledgement.

  “Nathan!” Collin bellowed straightening in his chair as the heavy wooden door creaked open behind me. “Find her a suitable place tae sleep. Ye might as well put her in the chambers that were prepared for her arrival.”

  Nathan walked over and stood beside me, nodding in approval to the Laird’s orders. “Yes, sir,” he mumbled as he reached down and took my elbow, encouraging me to stand.

  Collin was already back to reading the papers on his desk, dismissing my presence as a nuisance to his work. “I’ll sort out what I plan tae do with ye now that father is dead. Stay out of trouble until then,” he said, not looking up.

  Nathan guided me from Collin’s study, closing the door quietly behind us. His large hand settled in the small of my back, warm and reassuring as he propelled me forward down the corridor. “I’ll take ye tae yer chambers, lass. It’s been no doubt a long day. Ye’ll be needing tae rest.”

  As soon as the door to my chamber closed behind Nathan, I lost every last shred of compose that I had and promptly fell apart. I threw myself on the feather bed and cried my eyes out. My chest heaved with the reverberations of my emotions and my eyes stung from the tears that continued to flow down my cheeks.

  Having gotten that out of my system, I collected myself and began to formulate a plan.

  I’ve escaped two marriages already, if I have to escape ten more, so be it. I will be free.

  Chapter Three

  I awoke in a panic to pounding on my chamber door. Had I bolted it last night?

  “Kate! Kate, wake up!” shouted the urgent voice amidst the banging on my door.

  My feet felt the shock of the cold flagstones as I slid from my warm cocoon of quilts and stumbled blindly towards the door in the pitch darkness.

  “Kate! Hurry!” The banging grew more insistent.

  I fumbled with the latch that I had indeed locked and came face to face with a terror stricken Leti as I cracked open the heavy wooden door. Her face was ruddy from crying and her usually striking green eyes were puffy and bloodshot. Her nose was red and she sniffled as she exclaimed, “Do ye ken anything about healing?” the words coming out brokenly between the sobs that racked her small frame.

  “Wait,” I mumbled. I was having difficulty tracking her explanation after my abrupt awakening. “Who? What?” I questioned as I made a lame attempt to smooth my curls and wipe the remnants of sleep from my eyes. “Who’s hurt? Leti? What happened?” The sleep was beginning to recede from my brain and coherent thoughts were within tentative reach.

  Leti was growing impatient with me. She now spoke quickly and directly, her breathing heavy from the run up to my chamber. Her desperate demeanor demanded my attention to the matter at hand. “Our young men are back from a cattle raid and a few are badly wounded. Over half of the clan is gone for the harvest, including our healer. We need any help that can be mustered.”

  “Yes, I can help,” I said without thinking, having been trained in some healing techniques as a young girl.

  I was alarmed by the urgency in her voice. I could see that her body was wrought with tension. Her hands clenched the folds of her dress so hard that her knuckles were white with the strain as she said, “Brennan’s hurt something fierce. He’s my betrothed. I caught word that they were home early and I went to greet them and saw him being carried behind his horse in a pallet and...” her voice trailed off as a sob escaped and the emotion of seeing her betrothed in such a condition tore from her throat. Gasping for breath between her sobs, she exclaimed, “And he was so pale it was as if the blood had left his body! His eyes are glassy and he doesn’t speak, doesn’t respond or recognize me
or…Oh God, Kate! He can’t die! Please help him! Please help him... hurry!” she sputtered in desperation between sobs, as she reached out and grabbed my arm, half pulling me into the hallway.

  My mind was racing as I pulled away from her and ran back into my chamber, having the presence of mind to throw a dressing gown on over my night dress. Leti was standing rigid as a board in the threshold, color gone from her face, waiting impatiently for me to follow her. She turned on her heel as we left my chamber and walked briskly down the hallway as I slammed the door behind me. I rushed down the corridor following close behind Leti, knowing that there was not much that I could do to help if the situation was as grave as she had described.

  Apparently not happy with the pace of my progress, Leti whispered “Hurry,” tersely as her sweaty hand reached back and grabbed mine, speeding my walk into a jog as she drug me through the candle lit corridor. Her nails dug into my skin and I felt the desperation in her hurried, methodic movements as she rushed me through the maze of halls. I followed her into the great hall. My breathing ragged now. Nervous anticipation filled my senses as I dreaded the scene I was about to enter into.

  The fire roared at the end of the great hall and there was a hustle about the room as if it was midday rather than the middle of the night. The tension in the room was palpable. People were speaking tersely in Gaelic. At this moment, I first learned the smell of true fear. It seemed to permeate the room, with its damp, adrenaline soaked reek. Leti drug me to the far end of the hall and pushed our way through the throng of people toward the table where we had met for the first time only hours before.

  He lay on the table, glistening with sweat, which from my immediate assessment of the patient stemmed from a raging fever, not from his close proximity to the fire. His body trembled slightly and his skin had a sickly pallor. Leti dropped my hand and grasped his flack, lifeless hand as if by will alone, she could hold him to this Earth. He was a handsome man and yet at the same time he had almost plain features. His sandy brown hair was crusted with blood and debris from his injuries and his journey home on the pallet. It fell in sweaty clumps about his broad shoulders. He had a kind, boyish face that was slack with fever and expressionless. His eyes were closed and fluttered behind his pale lids with feverish dreams.