by Sarah Hoss
Rebecca had returned and now sat beside him, chatting with the man’s wife. He’d decided when he walked through the door that he would play his part and be there for her. In time, he might even come to love her.
“How do ye feel?”
She smiled up at him. “I’m fine.”
As the dance ended and the people parted, the piper called out for new dancers. Athol stood. “Hamish, do I have permission to take Miss Rebecca to dance?”
He glanced over at her. “Do ye feel up to it?”
She smiled eagerly. “I’d love to.”
He nodded his permission to Athol. “Mind ye, take care of her.”
As Athol stood and walked around the long table, Hamish turned to her. “If ye tire, come back here.”
She reached out and laid her hand on his arm. “I will, I promise.”
Athol reached for her and led her to the floor. As the music began, the dancers twirled, skipped, and laughed. He stood himself and walked over to where the men in the corner gambled and watched the game.
The doors opening behind him caused him to turn. James walked in and headed straight to the front table where Cluny sat. There was purpose in his steps. Something wasn’t right. Had there been another fire reported?
He left the game and went to stand by his brother’s side. James was already talking when he got there.
“. . . nowhere to be found. I’ve searched the castle.”
Cluny leaned over to whisper into Ewan’s ear. Hamish turned to his brother. “What has happened?”
“Gillian is gone.”
Hamish grabbed his sleeve. Fear washed over him at the news.
Cluny stood and nodded. Stepping down from his spot, he began to walk out of the room. The fifteen men of his guards, Ewan, Hamish, and James all followed. Once out in the great hall, he turned to speak to the men. “It has come to my attention that our guest, Gillian Meadows, is not in the castle. I want everyone outside to do a sweep. Meet back here in twenty minutes to report. I doona want to alarm the others.”
The men dispersed, but Hamish pulled his brother aside. “How did this happen?”
“I came back and went to my room to change clothes. Then I went in search of her and couldna find her anywhere.”
He gripped his brother’s shoulder. “We’ll find her, James.” Both men left to search for her.
Twenty minutes later, all the men gathered in the hall to give a report. No one was able to find anything. With the snow falling, it would have covered any tracks she might have made.
Rebecca and a man came out into the hall. “If I might have a word?” he said.
Everyone focused their attention on him.
“You may,” Cluny said.
“About two hours ago a man came to me. He asked me to fetch the lass, said he would be waiting for her in the stables.” He turned toward James and himself. “He said to tell her that the two of ye were out there and that Hamish was hurt and James was with him. He didna want to frighten Rebecca.”
Everyone turned to look at her, then back to the man.
“Then what happened?” James took a step closer to the man.
“I did as he asked. I brought her out the doors and that’s where I left her.”
Cluny spoke next. “Did ye know who the man was?”
“Aye, it was Archibald Murdock.”
“Archibald?” Hamish asked.
“Aye. I didna go out to the barn so I assumed he spoke true. I was surprised to see him here since he doesna come around much. Is anything wrong?” He glanced between Hamish and James, looking them up and down.
The chief shook his head. “Nay. Ye did fine.”
Hamish sucked in a breath at the news. If Archibald had Gillian, then it wasn’t for any good reason. He still held a grudge and he planned to use Gillian against him. But something didn’t make sense.
“Thank ye,” Cluny said. “Ye may go back to the festivities.”
The man bowed and left the group.
He was watching Rebecca. There was a look of horror on her face, her eyes were staring at the ground, but he could tell she was deep in thought. He stepped through the crowd and gripped her by the elbows. “What is it, Rebecca?”
She licked her lips. “Nothing.”
He bent down a little to better look her in the eye. “Do ye feel poorly then?”
She nodded and swallowed.
Leaning forward, he kissed her on the forehead. “Go, lie down. I’ll check in on ye when we get back.”
He started to turn away from her, but she gripped his hand and led him off to the side of the group. “Hamish, be careful. I have an ill feeling about this.”
“Doona fash now. Everything will be fine.” He turned her in the direction of the stairs. “Go, lie down.”
She gave a quick nod, then slowly began to walk away. The men were on their way out the door, but James and Cluny were hanging back. He went to them.
“The men have been told about what transpired between ye and Archibald.”
“Aye.” He shifted his feet.
“Ye are aware that this isna going to turn out well in whatever account may be.”
“I understand.” He glanced over at James.
“Go then. Mind ye, if ye can, bring Archibald back with ye. I’d like a word with him.”
He walked away, but the brothers were still staring at each other. “We need to get Alexander,” James said.
“Aye.” Both ran outside and joined the group in the stables as they prepared their horses.
James turned to Athol. “Go to Archibald’s house. Hamish and I will get Alexander.”
Athol gripped James’s shoulder and glanced over at Hamish. “Aye. We will wait for ye in the woods.”
He nodded, then walked his horse out of the stables with James in tow. Once they were both mounted, they rode hard for Alexander’s cottage.
Slowly, Rebecca walked up the stairs to her bedroom, turning once to stand half way up the flight and watch Hamish and the men as they spoke. Fear gripped her heart in a terrible icy hold. She knew her brother, knew the kind of evil that ran through his veins. How long had she been fighting to keep that same evil at bay, to prove that she was better than he was?
He hated Hamish and tonight there would be death. As sure as she knew that she loved Hamish, she knew something bad would happen. Question was, who was going to die? She had faith in Hamish. She had seen him in battle, watched him practice with the men. He could do it.
She poured herself a dram of whiskey and downed it. The fiery trail blazed all the way to her stomach. Pacing, she kneaded her dress in her hands. There was a problem. Her brother was crazy and sometimes crazy was all a person needed to win because they had nothing to lose.
She couldn’t just sit here. She had to save Hamish, had to find a way to make amends. Not stopping her brother from taking Gillian put Hamish in harm’s way. What had she been thinking?
She sat on the bed and cried. “I only wanted him without Gillian around to distract him.” She stood quickly, grabbed the empty candlestick holder from the bedside table and threw it at the stone wall as hard as she could. “Damn it.”
The thought crossed her mind again. She had to save Hamish. Nothing else mattered. Regardless of what happened to her brother, she needed to make sure Hamish was safe.
With determination in her steps, she grabbed her cloak and ran out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Once out in the stables, she woke up the young stable lad and had him prepare her horse.
She would ride to her brother’s house and she prayed that she could get there before anything happened.
Chapter 28
The ropes cut into Gillian’s hands, causing them to tingle. Soon, they would go numb. Sitting on a bale of hay,
she searched wildly for a weapon, a way out, something. Her captor, for she never did get a name, paced in front of her. He was waiting. Waiting for Hamish, waiting for a fight, waiting for a resolution. Which of the three she had no idea.
His movements unnerved her and she wanted to yell at him to sit down.
“Listen, if you let me go, I will walk right out of here and I won’t say a word to anyone.” There you go, plead with him.
He strode purposefully over to her. “Do ye think I’m daft?”
She shook her head, her eyes never leaving his face.
“If I was to let ye go, then my purpose for having ye here would not matter.” He shook his head, a smile increasing on his face tenfold.
He stared off over her shoulder with a dreamy look in his eyes. This confused her. He appeared to be excited about something.
“No, I think I’ll keep ye here and wait.”
She let out a deep breath. “Wait for what?”
When he didn’t answer, it grated on her nerves even more than the pacing did. She growled, kicked at the dirt floor, and clenched her fists, which caused shards of pain to shoot up her arm. “What the hell are we doing here?” She screamed at him. “What does this have to do with me?”
She was tired of being threatened, tired of being afraid, and tired of not having control of her life. She wanted to curse the heavens and ask what she had done to deserve the last two months.
He turned suddenly at her outburst. His eyes narrowed in annoyance at the commotion but his mood seemed to change with the wind and he threw his head back, slapped his thigh, and laughed. “Ye are a feisty one, I dare say.” He strode purposefully toward her, slowly as if he had all the time in the world. He studied her and it caused her to shift on the bale of hay.
Leaning over, he was close enough that his breath tickled her face and stank of fish and wine. It made her stomach roll.
His eyes searched hers. He raised his hand and using a knuckle, he brushed a few strands of hair out of her face. “I see now why Hamish took ye.” He walked over to the other side of the aisle and sat on a bale of hay.
She shirked back and furrowed her brows in confusion. “Hamish never took me. I came here on my own accord.”
Nothing, he just stared at her.
“I came here to visit Marlana, my friend.” Keep him talking Gillian. The longer he’s occupied, the longer you stay alive.
“Regardless who ye came to see, ye left with him to go to the castle and there ye have stayed with him.” He tilted his head as he studied her. “Are ye his whore?”
She gritted her teeth. “I am no one’s whore,” she bit out.
“All women are.”
“That’s not true.” Her voice softened. She would plead to his gentler side. “What about your mother? I imagine she was a wonderful lady.”
His lips tightened into a thin line and fury blazed from his eyes that she swore she could feel the heat. His moods changed so quickly. He stood abruptly and ran the short distance to her. She leaned back to get out of his way. Before she knew what was happening, he backhanded her across the face, causing her to lose her balance. She fell off the bale of hay and landed on the barn floor, hitting her face. The metallic taste of blood touched her tongue and began to pool in her mouth. She rolled to her side and spit.
Her hands were tied behind her back so sitting up proved quite difficult. She couldn’t wipe her face and blood trailed down her chin from her busted lip and where she had bitten the inside of her mouth when he hit her. Her cheek felt as if it was on fire. Twice now, she’d been hit in such a manner and though it angered her at being treated this way, fear was a more rational emotion at the moment for not knowing what he would do next.
The man walked over to her and unceremoniously yanked her up by her arms. He shook her. “All women are whores, even my own mother.”
The last word came out in an angry spray of spit. It landed on her nose and eyes and she closed them, wishing she had her hands to wipe herself clean.
He pushed her back down on the hay bale and walked briskly over to a wooden box that was against one of the stalls. She hadn’t noticed it before, having either been lost in her thoughts or watching him.
He pulled a brown, earthen jug out and popped a cork from the top. He turned, frowning at her though she wasn’t sure he saw her. There was a faraway look in his gaze. He began walking around the barn pouring the liquid in the jug onto the ground and into the stalls. Fumes began to penetrate her nose and she coughed. It was whiskey and he practically poured it over anything that stood still. That’s when he turned to stare at her.
He took the last bottle out of the box and walked over to her. He stood for just a moment before he uncorked it and poured the contents over her head. She ducked and weaved, but he followed her. She tried to stand and get away, slipping on the wet floor as she did so, almost falling. Her eyes darted back and forth in panic, looking for a way out. She began to run toward the main barn doors when she heard horses; lots of horses, so she screamed.
The devil himself walked up behind her, grabbed her, and placed his dirk to her neck. “Shh, shh, come now. Let’s see who our guests are.”
Slowly, he opened the door.
Seventeen horses stood in a line with James, their breath coming out as white smoke on the cold day. Their riders sat, motionless as they stared at the empty house.
Hamish, Alexander, the fifteen guardsmen, and himself had ridden straight for Archibald’s house, for sure that this is where they would find him and Gillian. But they had been wrong. No smoke rolled out of the chimney. He’d sent a scout to check out the house and he’d come back reporting it empty.
One of the guards leaned forward in his saddle, the leather creaking as he did so. “Any idea of where he might have gone with her?”
The snow had stopped falling twenty minutes into the ride and he was thankful. Any tracks left behind now would be spotted and not filled in with fresh snow. As it was, there were no tracks to be found.
He turned in his saddle to search the area. Where could they have gone? Think, damn it. He had to find her. He had to see that she was safe.
Glancing over at his brother, Hamish, he could see the turmoil on his face and knew he worried. He may not love her like Hamish did, but they were engaged and he did care for her.
Reaching out, Hamish grasped his forearm. James turned to look at him.
“We’ll find her.”
He smiled briefly and glanced down at the ground, nodding. “Aye, I know we will.” Looking back at his brother, he asked, “And ye, are ye doing all right?”
The others had gotten off of their horses and walked them toward the barn. They’d decided to stay within its walls to keep themselves a little warmer while they tried to figure out their next move. He held his brother back.
“Hamish, I know how ye feel about her.”
“Aye, well, it doesna matter. She belongs to ye.”
He watched the others as they walked toward the barn. “Aye, she does.” He turned to look at Hamish. “But ye love her and this thing with Archibald is between ye and him.”
He placed his hand on his knee and leaned over toward his brother. “Ye alone have the most at stake here. Do ye have yer head on straight?”
Hamish’s expression turned bitter, which surprised him.
“Aye. Doona worry, brother. We’ll get ye fiancé back safely.”
James reached out and grabbed the reins before his brother could ride off. “That’s not what I meant and ye know it.” When Hamish kept quiet, he went on. “I worry about her, too, but I also have ye to worry about. Archibald is going to test ye, he’s going to use her against us. I’ve lost a sister, aye, I doona want to lose a brother as well.”
Hamish stilled. He turned to look at him, then nodded. After a moment, he
spoke. “Best we get to the barn with the others. The men— “he stopped dead in the middle of the sentence, staring straight ahead.
He looked between Hamish and the barn. “What is it?”
“I think I know where they are.” He turned to peer at him. “I think Archibald and Gillian are at my barn.”
“Yer barn, are ye sure?”
“Where else could they be and it would be fitting, aye?” Hamish kicked his horse and galloped toward the barn with him in pursuit. They spoke to the men about Hamish’s theory. Whiskey flasks were passed around and the horses neighed outside, protesting at having to stand in the cold.
“It makes sense. He would have presumed that we would go here first.” Athol started walking out of the barn. “Let’s ride.”
Everyone jogged to their horses, mounted, and rode for Hamish’s property. They spread out, darting through the trees and crossing the small stream that ran through it. The moon was full and shone on the snow, turning everything in its path a florescent light-blue.
As they approached the barn, he was completely ignorant of the path this evening would take and he didn’t like it one bit. They pulled their horses to a stop and he glanced between his two brothers. Hamish sat on one side and Alexander on the other.
They dismounted and James called out to them. “Remember our vow.”
“Aye,” they both said in unison.