Instead, from all that he’d gained in knowledge of that bastard, Douglas held no doubts that that man had punished her many a time before she’d had Madeleine. ‘Twas a miracle itself that Madeleine was born, knowing what Wynton would have done to Anne.
Two days later, they saw smoke from afar. A river was nearby.
“Must be it. Setting the keep ablaze and running anew.”
Douglas snorted. “I’ll follow him to hell if I have need to, but he will take his last breath with my hands around his neck.”
They approach the keep with caution, and saw something they’d not seen at any of the other keeps.
Servants.
They were running about, attempting to stop the conflagration. Douglas grabbed one by the shirt and brought him closer.
“Where is Wynton?”
The servant swallowed several times before he answered. “Left. There’s a passageway in the dungeons that leads him out.”
“When?”
“At first light when a scout arrived telling him of your impending arrival.”
“We werena attempting to hide it.” Finlay growled. “We welcome a battle with that bastard.”
The servant swallowed again. “Many of his men have abandoned him. He has few now.” He looked at Douglas’ contingency. “Well, looks as if he still has more men than ye.”
“Then ‘twould be a fair fight,” Douglas snapped.
“The fire is moving quickly, and it’s near reached the dungeon.”
Douglas gave a curt nod.
“I need ‘elp!”
Another servant called out to the one Douglas held. He pushed him away.
“Go.”
Douglas motioned for his men to gather.
“We’re close! Keep moving! If ye find him,” he paused looking at each men, “Doona kill him. That honor is mine and mine alone!”
They roared.
“I will take with me ten and see where the passageway leads. Then I will have two of them return for the rest of ye.”
They raised their swords, eagerness on their faces. Once Douglas and Finlay selected ten, they began walking towards the burning structure.
“Nay, Finlay. Remain with them.”
Finlay shook his head. “I doona wish to countermand ye, Douglas, but I will be accompanying ye. Leave Tamhas in charge of them. This be our last fight, I shall fight alongside ye.”
Douglas pursed his lips in anger. “I willna argue because I doona wish to lose time. Verra well, stubborn arse. Men, grab a cloth and wet with yer waterskin. Hold it over yer noses as we go in if the smoke has permeated the air. Let’s go on then.”
They marched into the keep and took the stairs quickly down. Their coughing began immediately and they covered their noses and mouths with the wet cloths.
“Hurry!”
Douglas heard the fire sweeping through the keep, devouring all above them. While it had not yet reached the dungeon, the smoke was strong there.
“Here!”
They turned through the main space where metal poles formed several smaller enclosures. Douglas thought they must have housed the poor souls Wynton had punished here for Lord only knew what reasons, justified or unjustified. Larger areas of the stone walls had filthy chains dangling down.
“There are servants here!”
Douglas and his men hurried over to a grouping of seven men and women. One was coughing hoarsely.
“These two are dead, Laird!”
Douglas spared a glance at one of his men, who took blankets and covered the two dead servants. Of the five remaining, two were upright, and the other three were prone and unmoving on the dirty floor.
“Help those two out of here!”
“Wait! She needs help. She’s close to death.”
Douglas looked where the woman pointed. He nodded and swept his hands to reinforce his order for them to leave. Without speaking so as not to breathe in more smoky air than necessary, he pointed to two of his men to carry two of the three out. Douglas bent down and picked up the woman who the servant had called attention to. He couldn’t see any of her features, her hair was in such disarray, but from the shallow and barely perceptible breathing, this lady was near death.
Douglas and his men hurried down a long pathway, the one he hoped was the secret passageway the servant had mentioned. After what seemed like an interminable stretch made worse by the choking smoke, Douglas exited through a concealed door. Once outside, he greedily breathed in clean fresh air. One of his men came over to take the woman from his arms and lay her down. Douglas watched from where he was bent over, breathing deeply and coughing, as his man felt for a pulse.
“She willna live, Laird. Her breathing is barely perceptible, and her pulse is too faint.”
“Let us attempt to save them.” He looked at Rory. “Take one other with ye and bring Tamhas and the remaining men here. Thereafter, we’ll find that bastard.”
Rory nodded. “Aye, Laird.”
Once Douglas felt that he was breathing normally, he walked over to the servants on the ground.
“They’re all near death, Laird.”
“Press their chests as if they’re drowning. Let us force into them some fresh air.”
He watched as his men did just that.
Douglas wasn’t certain whether staying behind to care for unknown servants was an intelligent decision, but it was a most moral one. He walked over to the woman who was near death. Douglas sunk to his knees besides the frail woman. He could see the bones in her hands. The dress she wore was many inches too large for her frame. Her hair was brittle and looked like a bird’s nest. He looked over to the others who were slowly recovering. They all looked like they’d been through an ordeal.
Douglas began chest compressions as he’d ordered his men to do on the others. He was taking care not to use too much of his strength on the fragile woman. As he began his motions, his hands were bothered by a small, circular, hard disc he presumed was metal, at the woman’s bosom. There was no chain that he took notice of, and there was no obvious pocket. When he felt that the woman was breathing easier, he took a closer look at her clothing, determined to find the circular piece of metal.
“There it is,” he whispered. He was hesitant to get the object, not wanting to offend the rules of propriety, especially considering that the woman was not conscious. Curiosity pushing him forward, he found the hidden pocket in the inside of her bodice, near the top of the neckline. The woman’s chest bones were easily seen underneath her thin skin.
“No woman should ever be treated in such an ill manner, lass.” He sighed. “My apologies for this liberty, but I must see what ye hid here.”
He easily broke through the light threading sewing it closed and reached in for the small trinket with only a finger; the opening was meant for the small hands of a woman. It wasn’t a disc, but a ring. When he looked at his hand where the ring rested, his breath caught.
His world stilled.
His head spun.
He stopped breathing.
Douglas reached and gently parted the woman’s hair from her face, and sat back, transfixed.
“Nay…”
His whisper was hoarse. He felt at once cold and hot, confused and clear-headed.
“Canna be.”
He blinked, believing he was seeing an apparition.
Douglas’ heart seemed to beat when it wanted to, taking a rest twice as long as one beat took.
“Will Lady Anne live?”
The servant’s rusty voice seemed to shake Douglas out of his stupor. The sound Douglas emitted from his throat was inhuman in its pain. He looked at the ring in his hand.
His family’s ring.
The wedding ring he’d intended for her to have for his heart would never belong to another.
Douglas hurriedly felt for her pulse. It was too faint, and in any one else, he’d give up hope that they would live.
In his Anne?
He’d conjure the devil and broker an agreement to save her
life in forfeit of his soul.
“Anne?”
That one name, one word, uttered from his very lips held all of his world’s hope, longing, and fear.
She couldn’t die now.
Not when he’d found her!
Not when the Lord saw fit to reunite them while they were on this plane and not on the next.
It was truly a miracle.
His prayers had been answered, even if they were nearly two and a half decades late.
His Anne was here.
And she was alive.
Barely.
He began chest compressions anew.
“Please, my heart. Come back to me.”
Douglas leaned over her and breathed some air into her, as the wise healers in his clan had taught him long ago was a method to help those who’d swallowed water when nearly drowning.
He hoped it would also be fruitful for those caught in the perils of smoke.
Finlay walked over to him.
“Douglas…is aught wrong? D’ye wish for me to bury her? It doesna seem that she will survive.”
Douglas ignored his words, choosing only to growl in denial.
“Fock, fock, fock!”
Her pulse was still very faint, as was her breathing.
“Give her time, Laird. Mayhap fresh air will enter her slowly and awaken her.”
Finlay knew his laird always attempted to save innocents, but his attentions to this particular woman were highly unusual.
“Douglas…”. Finlay began to truly worry about him.
Had something addled his mind?
Douglas looked up, eyes darkened with hope and fear. “‘Tis Anne.”
Finley’s eyes rounded. “Lady Anne?” He took a closer look at the disheveled woman.
Douglas spared a nod before beginning his ministrations anew. Several long moments stretched and all who watched were certain that Lady Anne would not regain her life.
But from one moment to the next, she inhaled so sharply and began a fit of coughs. He quickly sat her up. Douglas, for want of doing something and not knowing what, took his waterskin and brought it to her lips. Anne drank greedily but began coughing violently, choking.
“Slowly, Love. Slowly.”
Douglas was choking on his words, for other reasons. He saw Anne pause at his words and suddenly looked up at him. Frustratedly moving hair out of her face, her eyes teared and rounded when she saw him.
“Douglas?”
Her whisper was faint, both hopeful and pained. Another coughing fit did not prevent her from lifting her hand. Uncertainty reflected in her gaze and she let her hand fall back on her lap without touching him. Douglas stared at it, wide-eyed. He reached her hand and gently held it, bringing it up to his cheek where it had intended to go.
“Ohhh.”
Anne closed her eyes and began crying. She coughed in between, her throat scratchy. Her words were low and gravelly.
“Can it be? Or did I at long last die and am now in the Lord’s embrace with an apparition of my love?”
Douglas chuckled, but it was low. He’d only ever cried once. When he’d been told of Lady Anne’s death after the birth of a bairn he didn’t know was his, he’d fallen onto his knees and very nearly took the roof off the top of the keep with his bellows of raw anguish.
He’d been inconsolable for days, fortnights, months.
He’d been in the midst of finalizing courses of action to retrieve her.
And now, looking upon the face he only ever thought he’d see again in the afterlife- he cried. Tears of relief, of joy, and of anger for all they’d had to live through.
But they were here.
Together.
A miracle he thought would never be.
Douglas grabbed her arm and she cried out in pain. Horrified, he looked down.
“It hadn’t been set right.”
Breathing heavily through his mouth, he easily pushed up the sleeve of the large gown and saw bruises on her arms. Her arm bent unnaturally.
Douglas’ eyes met hers, and then he looked down again as he pushed the sleeve of the arm up. More bruises marred her delicate skin. He looked closely at her throat and saw that they had not been rings of shadows, but bruises from choking.
“He did this.”
Anne nodded her head. “Aye.”
He met her eyes. “I will kill him, my love. He will suffer for every hit, every bruise, and every violation against ye.”
She shook her head. “He has many men, Douglas.” She stopped when a fit of cough restricted her throat. After a moment, she continued.
“Please. Do not. I don’t want to lose you. We’ve just found one another.”
He brought her hand up and kissed it, closing his eyes.
“I vow to ye, my love. Ye willna lose me again.”
The grip on his hand belied the frailty of her hands.
“I promise. Ye will return with me, and ye shall meet Madeleine and our grandbairns.”
Douglas choked on his words, his emotions overpowering him. His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb smudging the tears falling from her eye.
“Madeleine?”
Her voice was a whisper. Fresh tears appeared in her eyes. She looked confused.
“The baby died. He told me.”
Douglas closed his eyes and rested his forehead on their joined hands.
He would make Wynton suffer. The desire to do just that was prickling his skin in awareness.
He looked up at the woman he’d loved for over two decades and found it difficult to tell her that the love child they’d created survived the birth.
“Madeleine is alive. I didna know that until more than three years back. I hadna known ye were with child when ye left or I would have never let him take ye and my child.”
She sighed. “I hadn’t known either. I discovered that soon after I arrived with him.” She looked away, tears falling from her face. “I had to think quickly, lest he know.” She swallowed thickly and couldn’t meet his eyes.
“I let him have his way with me. My only concern was protecting our baby.”
Douglas gently took her chin and upturned her face to him.
“Ye’ve nothing to be shamed of, Anne. Ye did what ye needed to do to survive him.”
She nodded, tears washing down her face. A smile broke through. “‘Twas a girl? He respected me in one wish- I wanted to name the babe Madeleine if ‘twas a girl.”
Douglas smiled. “I remember us discussing names once. We both loved that name verra much.”
“They told me that the babe was stillborn.” Anne cried softly.
“Then what?”
It was obvious to him that she didn’t know much of what had happened. Just how long had she been isolated?
“I don’t know. The birth was difficult for me. He didn’t allow anyone save for two to help me- my lady’s maid and a servant. They wouldn’t allow me to see the baby. She didn’t cry when she was born. They took her away.”
Anne had to stop, tears flooding her eyes. Douglas smoothed them over with his thumb.
“The bleeding wouldn’t stop. My lady’s maid sought the assistance of a healer, disobeying his orders. Had she not, I would have died. After much time waiting, I lost consciousness. When I awoke, I was in the dungeon here with only my lady’s maid and servant. I was very weak, and we all doubted that I would live.”
She rested her forehead on his chest.
“Truth was, I didn’t want to. If I had to live without you, at least I had the baby, but the baby had died.”
Douglas brought her within his arms and hugged her. He closed his eyes at the pleasure of holding her.
“My love.”
Douglas’ voice was rough, emotion overwhelming him. His fingers smoothed out the knots in her hair. She pulled back.
“I lived, and in the meanwhile, more servants had appeared. Every week, someone would bring food and water for us. We had to ration all of it. We feared that he would stop even that kindness. Once a month, he
would come to see me.”
She looked away, more tears gathering in her eyes.
“He collected what he called his due, for our debt, which was the food and water. If I didn’t do as he pleased, the food and water would stop.”
Her cheeks were red and she would not meet his eyes even when he tried to get her to.
“How bad did he hurt ye?”
Her breath was tremulous when she released it from her lips.
“Very bad.”
Her breathing was fast and she began coughing again.
“Did he force himself on ye?”
She nodded, still not meeting his gaze. “I️ would agree to allow him once, but…”
“Even the first occasion was duress. Rape. Ye didna want it, Anne. He manipulated ye in the worst of ways, holding yer verra livelihood and that of the servants at risk if ye didna submit. How many occasions?”
She didn’t answer.
“More then once?”
She nodded.
“Every month he appeared?”
Anne nodded again.
“He hit ye.”
Her nod was curt with her eyes closed. She was biting her lower lip. She squeezed her eyes closed tightly and finally opened them.
“Eventually, I accepted my burden. Without my cooperation, we would all die. I could not fail them no matter how badly I wished to die. I could not condemn them to that fate when all they’d done to earn his wrath was attempt to help me during my most vulnerable state.”
She sighed.
“After a few years, I realized I did not have to resign myself to that fate. He never would answer my questions as to what he wanted with us. I surmised that he simply wanted to punish me for my relations with you.”
Anne finally made eye contact with Douglas.
“He knew we had lain together. He knew that I loved you…that I continued to love you.”
Anne breathed deeply and began to cough. She attempted to breathe calmly, slowly, and the coughing subsided.
“The servants and I began plotting escapes.” She squeezed her eyes. “We failed many, many times. He took one with the intent of making an example with his murder. I offered myself instead.”
“Did he accept?”
She nodded silently.
“Did he beat ye?”
“Aye. And much, much worse. His violations of my body were… barbaric.” Her words finished on a whisper.
The Highlander Who Loved Me (Heart of a Highlander Collection Book 4) Page 19