by Hyman, F. S.
“I wonder why the men from Dunwiche waited to attack her. Eilidh said they were to wait in ambush for her,” Aster said looking into the distance toward Dunwiche.
“Because it looks like she would have to cross through Dunwiche land to get to Kinloch,” Laird Breac stated.
“Aye, they only had to wait for her to cross into McInnis territory,” Jace agreed.
Derek cursed again. He had watched Eilidh walk toward the wall gate as she left the keep. She had turned to him with pleading eyes. She had nowhere to go, and it would be harsh for her all alone, but Derek was not in the mood to care. He let all his anger and hatred creep into his expression. She sobbed and continued on her way. There was a sense of finality when the gate closed behind her. Now his goal was to find his wife and pray that no harm had come to her or their child.
When his mother revealed that Annabelle was with child, it left him speechless. He turned to look at Eilidh, and she looked just as surprised as him. More than ever, he wanted to hurt Eilidh for what she had done, but instead, he turned and left the keep. He walked to the loch and back, trying to clear his head and manage the pain in his heart. He had arrived back at the keep in time to see Eilidh departing.
Colm met him at the door and told him that they planned to leave immediately for Dunwiche. Derek nodded, but he still felt real fear, because it had already been a sennight since Annabelle had been gone.
“At least we ken where they took her. Let us just hope whoever has her has nae harmed her,” Laird Breac said glancing at his son and then urging his horse forward.
Derek emitted a low growl and followed. Even if whoever had her had not harmed Annabelle, Derek was going to harm him for touching her in the first place.
§
Annabelle watched as the servant placed a trencher of stale bread and hard cheese on the table. It was the same meal she had since she been there. There was no meat or fruit. The woman looked over tired and her clothes were dirty and ragged. Annabelle did not remember Dunwiche being in such disrepair. The parts of the keep that she was able to see before being locked in this solar looked exactly as unkempt as this woman.
“Why am I being held here? Who is in charge?” she demanded of the woman again.
The woman never responded, but she would look at her with pity. Annabelle was determined to get the woman to talk to her this time.
“I demand ye answer me!” she advanced on the woman.
The woman gasped in surprise and turned to leave the solar. Annabelle beat her to the door and blocked her in.
“What has happened here? Dunwiche is nae how I remember it.”
The woman just looked at her with rounded eyes.
Annabelle grabbed the woman by her thin shoulders and shook her.
“Answer me!” she demanded again.
“I am sorry, Mistress. We were instructed nae to speak to ye,” the woman said breathlessly.
“What is yer name?”
“Ceit,” she whispered.
“Weel, Ceit. What is going on here? Why have ye been instructed nae to speak to me?” Annabelle asked, releasing her grip on her.
Ceit clearly looked uncomfortable, but Annabelle saw her make up her mind to talk.
“Our Laird was murdered over a month ago. His nephew, Julian, is now laird of the keep. We thought ye had died also,” the girl said.
Annabelle frowned. That was what Eilidh had told her, but she did not say that she was assumed dead.
“Dead? Why would ye think I was dead?” she asked Ceit.
“Weel, ye fled the keep. My mither said that she saw ye drink some of the ale. We sent men to look fer ye, but they couldnae find ye. They even went to neighboring keeps to inquire after ye, but no one had seen ye,” the girl said.
Annabelle stared at the girl. They had been looking for her? Had they gone to Dunkirk? If so, who had told them that she was not there? Had Derek? Why?
“What of my parents? Did they die also?” she asked the girl. She was afraid of the answer but she had to know if her parents were alive or dead.
“I doona ken. There was so much chaos and so many perished. We lost so many and so did the MacAlpins,” the girl replied sadly.
Annabelle wondered if she would ever find out what happened to her parents. She still had no idea why she was being held at Dunwiche. What possible motive could her captor have? If Laird Harold was dead and there was no issue from the marriage, then her captor had nothing to worry about. She would not stand in his way. She just wanted to know if her family was alright.
Annabelle had been locked in this solar since she was brought to Dunwiche over a week ago. If Julian was now acting as laird, she wondered what he would want with her. He was Laird Harold’s heir. It was natural that he would ascend to laird of the keep.
“Do ye ken what happened? Who did this?”
“Nay, we doona ken. Broc says that he asked the MacDougal clan fer help in finding out. There were only a few of us left after the wedding. Broc and a few of our retainers were away that day. When they returned, there was hardly anyone left. He went immediately to the MacDougals to ask fer help,” she answered.
Annabelle was shocked. So Derek did know about what happened at Dunwiche and that she had married Laird Harold, but she did not understand why he did not tell them that she was at Dunkirk.
“Is Julian good to ye?” she asked, although she could tell by the state of the keep and its inhabitants that he was not a very good laird.
Ceit hesitated. Annabelle could tell that she did not want to reveal too much. She had said too much already.
“I must go, Mistress,” Ceit said and slipped past Annabelle out of the door. Annabelle heard the lock turn.
Annabelle walked over and picked up the cheese and began to nibble on it. She had to eat because of the baby. She was relieved to know that her tumultuous ride to Dunwiche had not harmed the baby in any way. She walked over to the only window in the room. It looked out at the back of the keep. The only thing in view were some distant mountains. The solar was on the second floor, and the window had no ledge so that if she were to try to jump, she would go straight down into a pile of rocks at the bottom of the keep.
She looked out at the mountains and watched as the sun began to bath the landscape in its light. She turned over everything that Ceit had revealed to her. She had known that Derek knew who she was from the beginning. Eilidh had told her that, but what she wanted to know is why keep her stay at Dunkirk a secret. Whoever had poisoned the wedding feast was probably long gone. But would they be? Were they still at Dunwiche acting as laird? Annabelle remembered the cryptic remark Julian had made before the chaos began. Had he known what was about to happen? Did he plan for it?
She walked back over to the table and drank some ale. If he had attained his goal, what could she provide him? She was no threat to him. There had been no time for her to begat an heir for Dunwiche, so why hunt her down? She put her mug down and sat in a chair by the fireplace. She looked around. This chamber had been beautiful once. She remembered being brought here when they arrived at Dunwiche. She could tell that a woman had lived in the keep at one time. There had been beautiful hand woven rugs lain over the floor, and artistically crafted tapestries hung on the walls. Each chair and chaise had a handmade throw upon it. There had been three vases of flowers dispersed throughout the room. Now there were no flowers. The throws, tapestries, and rugs were either gone or in disrepair. She did not understand how this could happen in such a short time.
She started when she heard the key in the lock. She stood expecting to see Ceit returning for her breakfast things, but she was surprised to see the man who had captured her opening the door.
“What do ye want?” she asked, imbuing as much defiance and steel in her voice as she could muster.
The man grunted, but said nothing more. He walked up to her and stared into her face. She fought not to shrink back, but instead lifted her chin a little higher. A slight smile graced the man’s lips.
�
�Ye are wanted in the study,” he growled as he turned toward the door, expecting her to follow.
Annabelle stood where she was. She watched as the man stopped at the threshold of the door and turned.
“Do I need to carry ye again?” he asked her gruffly with a frown on his face.
“Nay, but I willnae go until ye tell me what this is all about,” she said obstinately.
The man just stared at her and then he began to laugh. The sound was deep and rich. Annabelle looked at him in confusion.
“What do ye find so humorous? I doona recall saying anything remotely laughable,” she said indignantly.
The man finished his laugh and then he walked back into the solar.
“The new laird wishes to speak to ye in the study. What he wants with ye, I doona ken, but I wish I could be a fixture on the wall to hear yer conversation,” he smiled.
Annabelle begrudgingly smiled back at him.
“Let us be off before he sends another lad after ye,” he said and turned again to leave the solar.
Annabelle followed slowly behind him. He stopped before a door in which she assumed led into the study. He tapped on the door once and she heard a voice bid them to enter. She recognized it as Julian’s. She had never been in this room when she was here before, but she could tell that it had been rundown also. It was dimly lit with only one candle burning and a little light streaming through the grimy windows. There were papers all over the desk and some on the floor. There were also plates with old food still on them on a side table.
Annabelle had to hold her breath so that she did not vomit right on the floor. The man led her forward. At first she did not see Julian, but as they got closer to the desk, she could finally see the silhouette sitting in the chair.
Annabelle held back a gasp when Julian moved into the candlelight. He looked haggard and thin. The scar that ran down his face was more pronounced and it gave him a sinister look. His eyes were hollow and there were dark smudges underneath them.
“So ye live, Annabelle? I had thought it couldnae be true, but ye stand here before me,” he said sneering at her.
Annabelle resisted the urge to step back. She did not want to show cowardice in front of Julian. She was aware that her captor was still in the room. Julian’s eyes suddenly shifted to the man.
“Leave us, Broc” he demanded his eyes going back to Annabelle.
Broc grunted and turned to leave. Annabelle felt some hesitation on his part, but the door closed behind him.
Julian’s eyes never left her face as he slowly stood behind the desk. Annabelle lifted her chin and stared back at him. She would not let him intimidate her.
Julian chuckled but there was no mirth in the sound. Annabelle noticed that his eyes were void of all emotion.
“Bested by a wee lass!” Julian growled.
Annabelle fought to keep from trembling. Julian’s appearance was disheveled at best. His once shiny hair was now as dull as his eyes. His clothing had seen better days also.
“What do ye want with me?” she demanded, relieved that her voice was steady.
Julian stepped from behind the desk and advanced toward her. She took an involuntary step back. He smiled at her, but stopped before he reached her.
“Weel, it is kind of complicated. I thought I wanted ye dead, and I had hoped that ye had died. It took great planning to kill off my uncle and those who would defend his life. I had to appear to be just as much a victim as he was. I tried to talk him out of marrying ye, but he wouldnae listen,” he said, anger clouding his words.
Annabelle did not reply. She tried to covertly look for something she could use as a weapon if the need arose.
“When ye ran out of the keep, I was sure they would find yer body outside, but they didnae find it. I saw ye drink the poisoned ale, so I kenned ye couldnae have made it far. But when my men couldnae find yer body, I thought wild animals had taken ye. That made it all the better fer me. But since ye are alive, I am at a dilemma as to what I want to do with ye. I could marry ye and begat heirs on ye,” he said running his eyes along her body.
Annabelle felt dirty, but she held her ground and did not cower before him. She darted her eyes quickly around as his eyes ran slowly down her body. The only thing she could use as a weapon was the candlestick. She had to figure out a way to get near it. It was to the right of Julian and behind him. Her eyes went back to his face.
“I am beginning to think that may be the better option, but I could also finish what I started and kill ye, then I would have no opposition to my position. Yer Da couldnae lay claim to Dunwiche if ye are dead,” he sneered.
“Why wait, ye coward? Decide now,” Annabelle taunted.
Julian’s head snapped back up and his eyes pierced her. She held her head up at a defiant angle. Julian raised his eyebrow.
“Flattery will get ye nowhere, Annabelle,” he scoffed. His gaunt face held a sinister grin.
Annabelle swallowed. She had to get to that candlestick if she had any chance of escaping. She did not want either fate.
“So what are ye going to do?” she asked with a confidence she did not feel. She put her hands on her hips to still their shaking.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. I want it to be a surprise,” he said, the words sounding like the hiss of a snake.
“I doona like surprises so I’ll have ye tell me now,” she said seeping authority into her words.
Julian only chuckled and advanced slowly toward her. It took all the strength she had not to retreat.
“I love yer spirit, Annabelle. It excites me. I am nae sure my cousin would have been able to handle ye. I am sure that spirit surfaces in other places too. I may just sample it before yer fate is sealed,” he said, still advancing on her.
Annabelle’s heart stuttered. Fear gripped her as she watched him draw slowly closer. She retreated to the left closer to the candlestick. Julian stopped his advance and stared at her.
“Why are ye doing this, Julian? I am nae a threat to ye,” she said trying to convince him.
Julian’s face darkened. His dark eyes became bottomless pits. He turned fully toward her and his breath came out in deep blows like a raging bull. Annabelle swallowed again. She glanced swiftly at the door. Broc hadn’t locked it. Maybe she could make run for it.
“If ye try it, I will cut ye down before yer hand touches the latch,” he said reading her mind.
Her eyes snapped back to his face. His expression hadn’t changed, even though Annabelle thought it was darker.
“Let me go, Julian. I am no threat to ye. I will go back to Kinloch and ye can have Dunwiche,” she said. Despite his warning, she inched her way toward the door forgetting about the candlestick. It was her only hope for she knew that Julian would actually kill her. She knew that was his intent.
Julian laughed. It was a very ugly sound. Annabelle cringed.
“Do ye think me a fool? Dunwiche is nae yers to give. I have claimed it because it nae longer has a laird. I am laird of Dunwiche, but the only thing ye are is a loose end. I intend to tie ye up,” he sneered. He had begun walking back and forth in front of her, never taking his eyes from her. She still took the chance to keep inching closer to the door.
“That fool, Harold, never should have married ye! I tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldnae listen to me. He said he wanted what was best for both clans, and his marriage was a step in the right direction. He had even spouted some drivel about being verra fond of ye,” he spat. “Such trash! I couldnae allow this to happen. I was next in line to be the laird, but when he wed he would produce his own heir and I would never inherit Dunwiche! Dunwiche is mine! Ever since he told me that I would inherit, I have worked toward that goal, and then yer father had to negotiate a marriage between ye! I thought ye had died that night because ye had drunk the ale also. If it had not been for that wench from Dunkirk telling my men that ye yet lived, I would have gone on thinking that everything was fine.”
“From Dunkirk?” Annabelle asked shocked. Who would have told h
im? Everyone had treated her with such kindness.
“Aye, some woman that was outside the gate gathering herbs. She told them that ye had been there all of the time. I sent Broc to intercept ye when ye crossed Dunwiche land to get to Kinloch,” he spat.
Annabelle stayed quiet. She could only think of one person who would want to be rid of her and do her harm. Eilidh. Now she understood why the woman had been so determined that she know of Derek’s duplicity and the baby she carried. Eilidh had constructed their entire meeting in the courtyard. She had conspired to deliver her to Dunwiche.
“As long as ye live, ye will be a thorn in my side! When ye marry, yer husband will try to take Dunwiche from me! I canna allow that to happen! Ye must be dealt with and soon! And, my dear Annabelle, today is that day!”
Annabelle ran the rest of the way to the door. She prayed she reached it before Julian grabbed her, but he beat her to the door and wrapped his arm around her neck.
“Nae fast enough. Ye shall die today,” he hissed, spittle landed on her cheek.
Annabelle fought to pull his arm from around her neck. She could not breathe. The more she struggled, the tighter his hold became.
“Doona fight it, Annabelle. It will be easier if ye doona fight it.”
Annabelle’s vision began to tunnel, but she continued to fight. She was going to die. Her lungs were burning straining to get the oxygen they needed. She could see less and less with her eyes. The darkness leeching away the light.
“That’s it. Let go,” Julian’s hot breath beat against her ears. She was losing the strength to fight. She thought of Derek and the time she had lost with him. She thought about the children they would never have, and the child she now carried. She wanted those things with Derek, so she renewed her attempt to free herself. She fought for their baby. She wished she still had Derek’s dirk.
“Stop yer struggles!” Julian commanded and his grip tightened around her neck.
Annabelle continued her feeble fight, knowing that it was a losing battle. She silently prayed that Derek would forgive her stubbornness. She did not care if he did not love her back; she just hoped he realized that she loved him, because she would never get the chance to tell him.