by Fiona Faris
Only opening her eyes briefly, she looked at Amelia again. “Ye are nae Charlotte,” she said, “but ye look so verra much like her. Tell her I did what he asked.”
“Who, what who asked?”
“Pearson, I did what Pearson asked an’ sent th’ bairn away.”
“Where, where did you send the baby?” Amelia’s head spun. Pearson, her father. It was no coincidence. The sick woman spoke in a whispered hurry, and Amelia was afraid if she didn’t seize it, the moment would be lost forever. Tears began to stream down Amelia’s face in torrents; she could not control the emotions as they flooded her. She had been searching so far and for so long, and this woman seemed to hold the key to everything. “Where, my lady, please, where did you send the baby?”
“MacLeod. I sent him to his father. Tell Charlotte I will be with her soon.” MacLeod, MacLeod, why was that name so familiar? A flash of memory to the library at Cadney came to mind. Of course, the MacLeod clan. She had read about some of their history that morning, and Gavin had told her they were one of the oldest and most reclusive northern clans. Could they be one and the same?
“Please, tell me more. Which MacLeod?” Amelia didn’t want to over tax the ill woman, she was very pale, and her breathing had become very shallow. Perhaps they had spoken enough for this day. She took the cloth and ran it along her ladyship’s head again. This was her aunt; her mother’s sister. It was so difficult to believe, after so much searching, the answers to her questions had been so close all along.
The woman suddenly became agitated. Amelia tried to soothe her, but her body went rigid, and her limbs ceased to move. Amelia had seen this before, and she was filled with dread. The woman’s breathing stopped, and Amelia panicked.
“No, no, no, no, please!” She pounded on the woman, willing her to breathe, willing her body to stop seizing.
Her ladyship fell back to the bed, and with a final wheezing breath, and as quickly as her seizure began, it was over. She was gone. Amelia could scarcely believe what was happening.
Her flesh already starting to cool with death, it was no use. Amelia could no longer hold back her sobs. Laying before her was her mother’s sister, and she never knew family was so very close.
Amelia was lost. She had not only lost a patient but her aunt. They never had a chance to know each other. She never had a chance to meet Ella or the boys. So much death in their lives. She could not help but collapse, sobbing over the woman’s lifeless body. How was it over so fast? It had been days of no change, then suddenly she was gone.
Amelia didn’t know how much time had passed. It could have been minutes, hours, or days. It mattered not. The woman was dead. Amelia, overcome with grief, did not hear the chamber door open behind her.
“What hae ye done?” That voice, laced with madness, could only belong to one man. Amelia watched as horror dawned on the Laird’s face as he took in his wife’s lifeless body. Cold anger settled on him, and a chill ran down Amelia’s spine.
“What hae ye done tae her, witch! I kent ye couldnae be trusted. Ye killed her. Ye killed my lady wife.”
He pulled her up by her hair and dragged her to the door. There was no use in fighting him, but Amelia felt compelled to try. It was not her fault the fever took her aunt, but she knew she would not be able to speak reason to the Laird.
“I told ye, did I not? DID I NOT SAY if she died, so would ye!” Amelia flinched at the harshness in his tone and the violence in his words.
“My Laird, please, you must understand. I did everything I could. She was too weak! She was overcome!”
“YOU KILLED HER!” His rage would not be cooled.
“I didn’t, your lairdship. I did everything I could.” He continued to drag Amelia down the hall. She held strong to as much of her hair as she could, fighting him, worried the man would pull it right out of her scalp. The pain was unreal. Tears continued to fall, only now they were not being shed for her lost aunt, but rather because of the stinging pull of the violent laird. She tried desperately to keep her feet balanced on the stone, knowing if she lost any more of her balance, he would only hurt her more.
“My laird, I didn’t. I swear it. I tried to keep her well! You must listen.”
“WITCH! Ye will rot in th’ dungeons for this!”
As the Laird pulled her around the corner to the long staircase that led to the kitchens, and then what Amelia assumed was the dungeons, she caught sight of Derek.
He must be coming with more broth.
He didn’t know her ladyship had died. She didn’t want the lad to see her being treated thus, and then feel obligated to put himself in danger, but he was her only hope.
It appeared that the Laird still had not seen the lad, and Amelia took the opportunity to call out first.
“DEREK, RUN! GO NOW! TELL LUCAS! GET HELP!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, and Derek looked at her, almost frozen in fear as he registered the situation before him. She could tell he was torn between listening to her and attacking the Laird. She prayed he would listen and run. The Laird may be mad, but he was larger than the lad, and if they were both in the dungeon, all hope would be lost. Not missing another second of opportunity Derek nodded and took off. Amelia breathed a sigh of relief. If she could just stay alive until Lucas came for her.
The Laird pulled harder. “He’ll nay get far, lass, no-one is coming for you. MacGille will be glad tae be rid of ye, for sure!”
He forced her down a long dark staircase that Amelia knew could only lead to the dungeons.
“You can’t keep me here. You will start a war!” She thought of Gavin. What if Gavin had returned? He will come for her, but surely there will be a battle. She thought back to the library at Cadney and how he had reacted to what he thought were the sounds of war. She couldn’t let him go through that again. She couldn’t be the reason he went back to that dark place. She sent up a silent prayer that Gavin would not yet have returned to Cadney, and that it would be Lucas Derek found. If for nothing else, but to spare Gavin anymore pain.
“If it’s a war the MacGilles want for ye, ye murderin’ witch, it’s a war they will get!” He pulled open the heavy bars of what looked to Amelia like a small closet, but which she knew would be her cell. He threw her against the wall, knocking any remaining air out of her. “Doona even try to scream for help, there will be no one comin’ for ye here!”
Chapter Twelve
Gavin arrived at Cadney long before noon, having made incredible time. He almost felt bad for pushing his horse to such limits, but the stallion loved to be ridden hard, and it had been a good week since the beast had been out.
Jumping down, he left the beast with the stable master and headed into the keep in search of Amelia. The whole ride, he went over his plan to engage Tristan for his help a million times. He knew how happy Amelia would be for the assistance.
The main hall of the keep was empty. Typically, the men and families took their noontime meal out of doors when the weather was nice, as it was this day. Gavin was in good spirits as he headed to the library. Surely this would be where he would find Amelia.
Entering the great room, he was greeted by little Angus. “Uncle Gavin, Uncle Gavin, do ye want tae see me new sword?” He couldn’t help but smile at the boy’s easy innocence and eagerness. He scooped him up high and delighted in his giggles.
“Aye, lad, I dae, but first can ye tell me where yer auntie is?”
“She’s nae here, Uncle.”
Gavin blinked. Wasn’t there? “What do ye mean, lad? Where is she?”
“Mum said she had tae go away for a few days tae help the sick, away from here.” Gavin wasn’t sure where the lad was saying Amelia was, but he had a sinking feeling that when he figured it out, he wasn’t going to like it.
“Where’s yer da?”
“He’s in the study. But uncle, Da said nay tae bother him. He has lots of work.”
“I willnae bother him, Angus, I promise.” He put the lad down and gave him a solid pat. “Now be a good
lad and go help yer Ma with yer brother. I’ll come see yer sword as soon as I talk to yer Da!”
Gavin watched the boy run off before leaving the library in search of his brother. He didn’t know where Amelia was, but Lucas did, and he was not going to relax until he found out.
* * *
“Ahh brother, I see ye’ve returned earlier than expected. Did ye finish yer barn?” Gavin entered the library to find his brother sitting behind the desk, where he so often was these days. Being laird seemed to mean mountains of correspondence. Gavin did not envy Lucas his work, that was for sure.
“Aye, th’ barn is complete, now it’s on tae the house. Tell me, Lucas, where is Amelia? I have something I wish tae discuss with her, and little Angus said she was helping the sick? Is there illness in th’ village?”
Lucas stood and walked over to a cupboard where Gavin knew their Da hid the good whisky. He poured a dram and offered it to Gavin. The vise in his chest tightened as he accepted the brown liquid. No good would come from this discussion, indeed.
Lucas let out a deep breath and swallowed back his drink before setting his hands down on the table. Gavin disliked his brother’s clear stalling.
“What’s goin’ on, brother? What are ye nae tellin’ me?”
“Not long after ye left, a messenger came from Cabduh,” he began. Gavin let out a curse. He knew exactly where this was going.
“The lass?”
“Aye, she insisted, Gav. I couldnae send me Ella, she’s too far gone with child. Amelia volunteered. I sent her with Derek tae be safe.”
“Derek!? He’s nae but a lad, ye ken how dangerous Liam Cabduh can be! What were ye thinkin’? The lass was under yer protection, ye gave me yer word, Luke!”
“Aye, and I didnae break it. Would ye have me allow another clan tae suffer when we have healers here willin’ tae go?”
“Lucas, ye doona understand. There is more at stake here than relations with Cabduh. She’s English, ye ken how th’ man hates th’ English.”
“What are ye not tellin’ me, Gavin? Ye wouldnae be this upset over a simple favor to an ally.” Lucas had always been able to tell if Gavin was holding back. Ever since they were lads, Lucas was the brother who kept Gavin honest. Laird or no, he should have never sent Amelia to Cabduh. It was not his story to tell, but he knew if he didn’t tell Lucas about the lass and why she would have been so eager to go to Cabduh Castle, then his brother would not see the need to get her out of there.
“Och, Luke, all is not as it seems with yer bonny sister-in-law. She may be in more danger than ye ken.” Gavin downed the whisky he was holding, slamming the glass down on Lucas’ desk. He went into the tale of Ella and Amelia’s missing baby brother, and their father’s deathbed confession. He told Lucas all, about Perth, the rumor of the babe being taken to Cabduh, and Amelia’s promise not to ask Lucas to secure her an invitation.
“And I would never have done,” Lucas said. “It’s a fool’s errand. No wonder the lass was so eager tae help. And ye saved her in Perth? That makes more sense as tae why yer insisting on courting her. God, Gavin, why did ye nae say earlier!?” Gavin glared at his brother.
“”Twas why I asked ye tae keep yer eye out, Luke, but didnae want tae reveal the lass’ secret, nor worry Ella.” If any harm came to Amelia, Gavin would have to live with the consequences of his actions. But he also knew her as a cunning lass, and she would not look down an opportunity.
“How can I get in at Cabduh? What is th’ illness?”
“Gavin, I have nay heard from Amelia since she left. I doona ken what th’ illness is, but ye ken ye canna just ride up tae th’ gates.”
“Aye, I can, and I will.” Gavin clenched his fists at his side. He knew he had to get to her and quickly. The door to study burst open and Magnus was standing there with Derek.
“Sorry for bargin’ in with nae notice Laird, but we hae a problem ye should ken about,” Magnus said, his eyes downcast.
Gavin looked back from the men at the door to his brother. Lucas had just said Derek was with Amelia, what the devil was the lad doing back at Cadney? Had Gavin been worried for nothing? Amelia was surely right behind him; the lad was young, but he had proven himself smart, he would not leave the laird’s sister-in-law to fend for herself. Would he? Was that the problem that Magnus spoke of?
“Magnus, what is it? And Derek, lad, why are ye here?”
Derek looked as if he had just lost a puppy in the loch.
“Where is Amelia?” Gavin interrupted. He didn’t want to waste time in the study listening to a blow by blow of the illness at Cabduh when he could be with Amelia.
“That’s just it, Laird, I doona ken what exactly went wrong, but she’s been taken.”
Lucas looked up, rage simmering just below the surface. “Taken?”
“Aye, Laird, I saw it with me own eyes. One minute I was gatherin’ herbs for the Lady Amelia. We were tryin’ tae help. The clan was in a bad way, so many ill with fever, but we had just gotten it under control when the Lady of the keep took a turn. Amelia sent me for more comfry, She aimed tae make a poultice for the fever.” Derek shuffled from foot to foot, and Gavin grew impatient.
“Get on with it, boy, what happened!”
“Och,” Derek continued, refusing to look up and meet either Lucas’ eye or Gavin’s. Any other time Gavin would have felt sorry for the lad. It was clear he was pained by what had happened on his watch. But as it stood, Gavin was going to throttle the man if he didn’t get on with it. “I was only gone an hour, mayhap two, and on my way back up tae th’ chamber where her ladyship was, I saw Lady Amelia being dragged by Laird Cabduh. I moved to attack, but she screamed for me to hold back, and instead run. She said, run back here and get help, and that’s what I did. The man was mad, ye could see it in his eyes. I think he meant to take her tae th’ dungeons. I heard a servant say Lady Amelia murdered her ladyship, but that canna be true. She was tryin’ hard tae help, my laird. She wouldnae hae harmed th’ woman. She was bad off, Lady Amelia was only tryin’ tae help.”
“Of course, it isnae true, lad,” Lucas said, trying to calm the young man. “You did right by comin’ here. We will leave now and get our lass back.”
“We go now!” Gavin said, giving the men a stiff nod.
“An’ how do ye propose we approach this? Are we gonna storm the Cabduh castle, start a clan war?” Magnus spoke up, he had been quiet for the duration of Derek’s telling, and Gavin knew his oversized cousin would only speak out against him or Lucas if he was sure they were wrong.
“Nay, Magnus, dinnae worry, I’ve a friend in Cabduh. We will get Amelia back using diplomacy first. But mark my words cousin, if that doesnae work, I will storm the castle.” He would rip the old laird, and every Cabduh he saw apart limb by limb if so much as a hair on Amelia’s golden head was harmed.
Chapter Thirteen
The dirt under her nails would be enough to make Amelia cringe, but truly it was the occasional clicking and scampering across the dark, dungeon floor that she was sure was some type of rodent that was her true undoing.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been in the dark, but she had no food, no water, and she had been forced to relieve herself in the corner of her already dank, filthy cell. At least she wasn’t in chains. She thought of Gavin, and how much he must have suffered in a cell not much different from this one, for years. Her heart ached for him. She didn’t know how long her sanity would hold up under such circumstances.
Oh, Derek, lad, I hope you made it back to Cadney. She was overcome with a desperate need to go home. Home. It was funny how quickly she had come to think of Scotland, the highlands, and Cadney as home.
“Are ye hungry, lass?” Amelia looked up, surprised to see a man standing at the bars to her cell. She hadn’t heard him approach. He looked frail, tall and lean, with deep-set dark eyes. Even though he didn’t look robust or particularly healthy, Amelia could tell right away he was not afflicted with the illness that had affected so many others in the castle.
“I am,” she replied, keeping her voice low and timid. Her survival instincts were kicking in. She was not sure if this visitor was friend or foe. It was best to play innocent and demure.
He slid a plate under the bars, on it was bread and small bits of cheese. Amelia grabbed at the plate and devoured the food without speaking as he watched. She did not care. It was more food than she had eaten in what felt like days.
“Easy, lass. I ken it’s nay much but go slow, or ye’ll give yerself a bellyache.”
Amelia took the man’s advice to heed, slowing herself and allowing her eyes to adjust further to the darkness. She could now make out his form. He paced back and forth in front of her cell, and Amelia saw a distinct limp in his left leg.