by B. J. Scott
“True, but you’re na married yet, and much can happen between now and the day of your union. Do you love Lord Sinclair?”
Roslyn wished she had never mentioned Ian to Fiona. The lass was like a deerhound with a bone. Once she got ahold of something, she’d not let go. “I dinna know the man. Of course I dinna love him. And while I find the idea of marrying Gordon Sinclair less than appealing, my father arranged this union before he died. An alliance with Clan Sinclair will be most beneficial to our clan, so I dinna see a way out of it. Perhaps in time I’ll grow to—” Nay, she could not bring herself to say love. She could never love a man like Gordon Sinclair.
Fiona clucked her tongue. “That may be, but if you find yourself drawn to another, it would be a shame na to see where those feelings might lead.”
Roslyn wrapped her arms around her middle and lowered her gaze. “Even if I did find Ian Forbes attractive, which I am na saying I do,” she quickly added, “my brother would never condone a relationship between me and a man with no land or title. A servant no less.”
“Roslyn!” Roderick’s voice echoed in the hall. “I know you’re there and demand you let me in. Now!”
“Speaking of the devil,” Fiona said as she moved to the door and glanced at Roslyn.
“Best you open it before he breaks it down.” Roslyn dreaded a confrontation with her brother, but if she refused to let him in, it would only feed his anger.
Fiona opened the door. “Lord Morgan.” She curtsied.
“Get out,” Roderick demanded. He entered the room, glaring at his sister as he spoke to Fiona. “I need to speak with Lady Roslyn. Privately.”
Fiona nodded, then peered over her shoulder at her mistress. “If you need anything, please summon me, m’lady.” With that, she sidestepped the laird and scurried down the hall.
“Why was she here? Did I na order you to select a different lady’s maid?” Roderick growled. “I should have banished her from the castle as soon as I became chieftain.”
“On what grounds?” Roslyn raised her chin in defiance. “Fiona has done naught to warrant your hatred. You have no right to send her away.”
“I’m laird of Clan Morgan. I dinna need a reason for anything I do. There are plenty other woman you can choose to tend to your needs.”
“She is na just my maid, Fiona is my friend.”
“Exactly the reason I dinna wish you to spend any time with her. She is a servant, Roslyn, and far beneath your status.” Roderick’s expression darkened as he took a menacing step in her direction. “How do you expect to gain the respect of our clan and that of your future husband, if you associate with those you rule? Instead of turning a blind eye and allowing things to go as far as they did, Father should have put an end to it when you were a bairn.”
“How can you rule if you dinna know or have compassion for the people you govern?” Roslyn countered. “Seems to me the more familiar you are with your clan members and the better you treat them, the more effective you will be as a leader.”
“I dinna ask for your advice,” Roderick snapped. “But I willna have to worry about how you conduct yourself for much longer. Once you marry Sinclair, I can wash my hands of you. Speaking of which, he is the reason I have come to your chamber.”
“Then say what you must and leave.” Roslyn knew she was risking her brother’s wrath, but she just wanted him to go.
“How dare you sneak out of the great hall without asking my permission? Showing disrespect to me and to your future husband is na acceptable.”
“I needed some air and dinna think it mattered if I was there or not,” Roslyn replied. “The two of you were so engrossed in your discussion and too busy imbibing in spirits to pay me any mind.”
“You humiliated me in front of my guest and had no right to leave until you were excused.” Roderick staggered forward, closing the gap between them. “I’ve a mind to teach you a much needed lesson.” He slammed a balled fist against his open palm.
Heart pounding, Roslyn held her ground—Roderick standing so close, she could smell the overpowering stench of whisky on his breath. “You’re drunk. If your guest drank even half as much as you, I’m sure he’ll awakens in the morn with a terrible headache and no memory of what happened during or after the meal. If he does remember, I dinna care if he thinks me rude. If he departs without marrying me, I would be most pleased. I dinna wish to wed a man I dinna love.”
“You’ll do as you’re told.” Roderick lunged forward, wrapped his fingers around her throat, then shoved her backward, her head slamming against the wall. “Defy me again and I’ll show you who is laird of this castle.”
Roslyn saw stars, but refused to cower before her brother.
“I could snap your neck,” Roderick warned.
“And lose your bargaining token with Clan Sinclair?” she challenged. “Do with me as you wish, but remember, if you leave any bruises or scars, Lord Sinclair may na want me.”
Roderick released his grip. “Mark my words, you will marry Sinclair, and willna do anything else to insult him. I order you to be downstairs for the morning meal, and expect you to apologize to your betrothed.”
Roslyn hesitated for a moment, weighting her words carefully. “I will do as you request, but only if you’ll do something for me in exchange.” While she knew offering her brother an ultimatum was futile, she had to try.
“And what might that be, sister?”
“I’ll marry Gordon Sinclair if you let Quinn return to his mother,” Roslyn said. “Forget this nonsense about making him your heir, and let the lad go home to his family where he longs to be.”
Roderick threw back his head and laughed. “You canna be serious? Why would I do that?”
“Because it is the right thing to do. Quinn doesna belong here and he wants to go home to his mother.”
“The lad is my son and I intend to keep him. Nothing you do or say can make me change my mind. So best you prepare for your wedding.” Roderick spun around, then stomped toward the door. As he reached for the latch, he hesitated and glared at Roslyn. “Remember what I said. Be downstairs at dawn and make sure you are looking your best. Apologize to Sinclair and I’ll spare the lash. Defy me and not only will I punish you, I’ll punish the lad as well. And he’ll have you to thank.”
“I’ve known you to do some cruel and unjust things in your life, but I canna believe you would hurt your son to get back at me.”
“Watch me. The choice is yours,” Roderick snarled left the room, slamming the door behind him.
Roslyn crumpled to her knees and cradled her face in her hands, sobbing. She couldn’t marry Sinclair, but if she defied Roderick, he might make good on his threat to harm Quinn. She was not a violent person and had never struck out at anyone in anger, but at this moment, she was seriously considering the idea of sneaking into Roderick’s chamber as he slept and plunging a dagger into his heart. If he indeed had a heart.
Chapter 6
Ian made his way through the bracken and bushes outside the curtain wall, using the full moon to light his way. To reduce the risk of being spotted by the guards patrolling the parapets, he’d decided to wait until after dark to leave the keep. He also chose to depart after midnight, a time when most of the castle occupants were asleep. Now that he’d accomplished his goal of locating Quinn, he’d report to the members of the rescue party, then return before sunrise and anyone notice he was missing.
“Halt,” a deep voice rumbled, stopping Ian in his tracks. “Dinna move a muscle, or I’ll run you through.”
Unarmed, Ian raised his hands above his head, then slowly turned and faced the man. “If you do, I canna tell you what I’ve found out about Quinn.”
Alasdair lowered his blade and extended his arm. “You’ve been gone so long, we were beginning to think you’d been captured.” He grasped Ian’s wrist, the two men exchanged a hardy shake, then he thumped Ian on the back. “Good to see you, cousin.”
“It’s good to see you too. I’m afraid it took a lit
tle longer than planned to locate Quinn, but I found him and the lad is well.” Ian nervously glanced around the woods surrounding them. “I dinna have much time and am not sure this is a good place to talk. I need to report my finding to the others and return to the castle before dawn.”
“You’re going back?” Alasdair asked. “I thought the whole idea of you sneaking into Morgan Castle was to find Quinn so we knew how best to rescue him.”
“It was, but I gave Quinn my word that I would return.”
“Follow me, Lazarus will be anxious to hear what you have to say. He’s been as restless as a cornered wildcat since you left. About as ornery too,” Alasdair said as he led the way to a clearing where the others were sleeping on the ground near a low-burning fire.
“Were you na afraid the smoke would give you away?” Ian asked.
“We waited until after the sun had set to light the fire and will make sure it is out before dawn. They canna see smoke at night.” Alasdair held his hands over the flames and rubbed them together. “We needed it to cook and a means by which to stay warm.”
Connor leapt to his feet with his sword drawn. “Who goes there?”
“Relax, brother, it’s me, Alasdair, and Ian’s with me.”
Within seconds, everyone in camp was awake. After Lazarus made his way through the group, he reached out for Ian. “It’s good to have you back. What did you find out? Is Quinn—”
“The lad is fine. He misses you and Sheena and is anxious to go home, but he’s unharmed.” Ian saw no point in telling Lazarus that Roderick had struck the bairn.
“You actually spoke to him?” Lazarus asked.
“Aye. Disguised as a servant, I took a tray of food up to him. While there, I was able to let him know we are near and will get him out of there as soon as we can.”
“You told him we were here?” John asked. “Do you think that wise? What if he gets frightened and gives us away?”
“He’s a smart lad and knows it’s important to keep our presence a secret,” Ian reassured his brother.
“Aye. I can attest to that,” Lazarus added. “Quinn is wise beyond his years and I know from personal experience that he can be trusted to hold his tongue, even when he’s afraid.” He faced Ian. “Tell us how we can get him out and when we can make our move.”
Ian raked his fingers through his hair. “I wish it was that simple. Roderick is expecting us to come for the lad, so he has locked him away in the highest area of the castle. He has doubled the guard and willna relinquish Quinn without a fight.”
Bryce stepped forward. “Then we’ll send for reinforcements, and storm the castle. Dinna fash, Lazarus, we’ll get the lad back come hell or high water.”
“Roderick is as thrawn a man as I’ve ever known and as mean as a pit viper,” Ian interjected. “He is anticipating an attack, so I’m hoping if one doesna come, he may let down his guard. At which time we can sneak Quinn out.”
“What are you saying?” Connor asked.
“Quinn is sequestered in the south tower. Getting to him, then out again willna be an easy task,” Ian explained, then blew out a heavy sigh. “Besides, I wouldna put it past Roderick to harm the lad if pushed too far.”
“All the more reason to rescue him as soon as we can.” Lazarus began to pace.
“I think it best if I try to get him out alone,” Ian said. “It may take a little longer to do so, but the risk to Quinn will be greatly reduced.”
“And you think this is possible?” Connor asked.
“I believe it’s the only way,” Ian replied. “So far, I have been able to move freely about the castle and no one seems suspicious. There may also be a person willing to help me if I can gain her trust.” Roslyn came to mind. “At least it is worth a try.”
“How do you know you can trust this person?” Lazarus asked.
“I canna be certain. Na yet. But I intend to find out.” Ian rested his hand on Lazarus’s shoulder. “You know I would never do anything that might put Quinn in danger. But something tells me she wants to see the lad out of Roderick’s clutches as much as we do.”
“She?” Bryce wriggled a brow. “That would explain why it took you so long to get back to us.”
“It’s na what you think,” Ian snapped.
Connor cast his brother a glower of disapproval before addressing Ian. “Pay Bryce no mind. Who is this woman?”
“Roslyn is Roderick’s sister. She—”
“Morgan’s sister! The man’s gone daft.” Alasdair grumbled.
“Hear him out before you jump all over him.” Connor held up his hand, silencing his brothers, then spoke to Ian again. “What makes you think she can be helpful?”
“When I first made contact with Quinn, Roslyn was with him,” Ian said.
“Is she a comely lass?” Bryce asked, grinning.
“What has that got to do with anything?” Ian growled. “Do you want to hear this or na? If na, I’ll go back and see to Quinn’s escape on my own.”
“Hold your wheesht and let him finish,” Connor ordered. “Go on, Ian.”
Ian scowled at Bryce as he continued to speak. “Lady Roslyn was in Quinn’s chamber when I arrived with the tray of food. She was trying to comfort him and allay his fears. She also seemed quite disturbed when I found her there and she asked me not to tell her brother that I’d seen her.”
“And that makes her trustworthy?” Alasdair shook his head. “It could all be for show.”
Ian shook his head. “I dinna think so. Besides, she has no reason to deceive the lad or anyone else. I’ve heard it bandied about the keep that her brother treats her disgracefully. Quinn told me she defended him against Roderick and the brute struck her and threatened to throw her in the dungeon if she went anywhere near his room again.”
“It sounds as if she needs rescuing from the bastard as much as Quinn does,” Lazarus said. “But I am not convinced we should trust her. If her brother warned her to stay away from Quinn, what makes you think she will go against his orders?”
“Because she has already,” Ian replied, “and more than once. She also promised Quinn she would return again, despite her brother’s threats. But until I get to know more about her and the situation between her and her brother, I plan to tread lightly.” Ian faced Connor. “What say you, cousin? The decision is yours.”
Connor in turn looked at Lazarus. “Na this time. What say you, brother? Quinn is your son. Do we storm the gates and take the lad by force as Bryce suggested or let Ian try his way?”
After taking a moment to ponder his options, Lazarus crossed himself as he glanced skyward. “Heaven help me,” he muttered and faced Ian. “Bring my son back to me hale and hardy, cousin. God’s speed.”
Ian offered a curt nod. “I’ll do my best. But I must get back before the sun rises.
“Remember, we’re here if you need us.” Connor slapped Ian on the back.
John stepped forward and pulled his brother into an embrace. “Be careful, Ian.”
“Aye,” Ian replied, then turned and sprinted toward the castle.
The sun was about to rise when he arrived outside the curtain wall. Wasting no time and doing his best to remain in the shadows, Ian made a dash for the postern gate. Getting out under the cloak of darkness had proved easy, and once he was back in the bailey, if seen, no one would think it odd. Praying his luck would hold and no guards would be patrolling on the opposite side of the gate, he sucked in a deep breath and pushed it open. Relieved to find no one around, he darted for the back door of the castle, entered the storage room, then slipped into the kitchen.
“There you are,” a woman said. “We’ve been looking of you.”
Ian spun around coming face-to-face with Martha, the head maid in the kitchen. “What is it you’d like?”
“You took a tray up to the south tower last night, did you na?”
Ian offered a hesitant nod. “Aye.”
“The laird wants the same person to make all the deliveries to that chamber.” Martha han
ded him a tray containing a bowl of porridge, oatcakes, a small crock of honey, and a mug. “His Lordship said it is a delicate matter and he doesna want more than one servant entering the room. Take this at once to the south tower and dinna dally.” She placed her hand on Ian’s forearm. “And the laird also said you’re to speak of this to no one.”
Things were falling into place nicely and Ian could not believe how fortunate he’d been so far. If his luck remained unchanged, he’d have Quinn out of here and home in no time. He hoped.
Ian climbed the stairs of the south tower, then raced down the hall, surprised to find a guard standing outside the door to his room.
“Halt and state your business,” the man said.
Ian glanced down at the tray. “As you can see, I am bringing the lad his breakfast. Let me pass.”
The guard shook his head, then reached for the tray. “Nay. I’ll give it to him.”
Ian took a step backward and glared at the sentry. “I received specific orders from Laird Morgan to deliver this personally. And I intend to do so. Please move aside.”
“Is there a problem?” Roslyn asked as she appeared at the top of the steps.
“I have orders na to let anyone into this chamber, Lady Roslyn,” the guard said.
“And I was given orders to deliver this tray of food personally,” Ian added.
“It appears we have quite a quandary.” Roslyn approached, laid her hand on the guard’s forearm, and glanced up at him, smiling. “You have known me since I was a wee lassie, Duncan. And you are also aware that I would never disobey my brother’s orders.”
“Aye, m’lady.” Duncan locked gazes with Roslyn. “I’m only doing as I was told.”
“I’ve no doubt you were given instructions to guard the door. But my brother must have forgotten to tell you there would be a servant bringing trays food from the kitchen, and that he is an exception to the rule.”