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The Bride Chooses a Highlander

Page 9

by Adrienne Basso


  “Aye, now ye understand why the McKennas sent her away,” Lachlan said.

  A few of the men grinned. Archibald instantly silenced their mirth with a frosty stare.

  “They should have put the strap to her back and taught her a proper humble attitude,” Archibald insisted. “Ye’d best make sure ye beat her well so she understands her place.”

  “I dinnae need any advice from ye on how to discipline my household servants,” Lachlan replied flatly.

  The undercurrent of strain between the two lairds grew. Katherine bit her lip, cursing her tart tongue. It had served her well growing up as the only female with several tough, willful brothers, yet now it could prove to be her downfall.

  She should have kept her mouth shut and her eyes lowered, remembering that was how most servants acted among their masters. Thanks to the kindness and compassion of her mother, those who worked at McKenna Castle were treated far better than most, though they quickly learned to stay out of her father’s way when his temper flared.

  “Well, if she becomes too much fer ye to handle, MacTavish, send her to Fraser Castle. I’m sure I can find something to do with her,” Archibald proclaimed with a lewd smirk.

  There was another chorus of laughter from his men. Katherine could feel the blood pounding in her head as Archibald’s chilling words rang in her ears. Every instinct in her bones was screaming at her to kick her heels into the horse’s belly and urge the animal to break into a gallop.

  “Aye, ye’ll be the first one I contact,” Lachlan said with a laugh.

  Katherine turned her head and caught a glimpse of Lachlan’s smile. She sucked in a breath, her heart racing frantically.

  He is only jesting, she told herself, knowing any other explanation was simply too terrifying to contemplate.

  With a desperate sigh of relief, Katherine felt the horse pivot and move in the opposite direction, away from Fraser and his men. The tension around her heart gradually eased, though the flutters in her stomach would not leave.

  “Archibald would have paid good coin fer me,” Katherine finally said in a trembling voice.

  “I dinnae want his money.” Lachlan let out an exasperated sigh.

  His voice sounded gruff, but she wasn’t frightened. The encounter with Archibald had shown her the face of a real enemy.

  “How far must we head in this direction before turning back?” she asked ten minutes later.

  “They’ll be no turning back. It’s not safe. Fraser and his men will be watching us.”

  “How will we get to the convent?”

  “We willnae be going to the convent.”

  Katherine frowned. “Shall we return to the hut?”

  “Nay. We ride fer MacTavish Keep.”

  Katherine’s brows knit together with worry. “Will Aiden be there?”

  Lachlan shrugged. “’Tis his home.”

  Lachlan spurred his mount up a steep hill, leaving no chance for further conversation. Katherine found herself shaking when they reached the summit, uncertain if her distress was caused by the unpleasant encounter with Archibald Fraser or the prospect of once again coming face to face with Aiden MacTavish.

  Chapter Eight

  The sun was setting when they finally arrived, coloring the sky with streaks of red and gold, casting shadows on the looming structure ahead. It was a single, square stone tower of significant height, with an old-fashioned thatched roof. The outer curtain wall was constructed from both wood and stone, surrounded by a narrow moat filled with water.

  The moat surface was frozen solid, indicating it didn’t run very deep. As they drew closer, Katherine’s eyes moved upward, noting that four men stood at the ramparts surrounding the front gate. They were a motley group, with gray beards and stooped shoulders, dressed in padded vests instead of proper protection and clan colors.

  There were no archers in view, no eager young men patrolling the wall in hopes of impressing their laird. Even to Katherine’s untrained eye, the defenses seemed insufficient.

  As they entered the bailey, men, women, and children scrambled forward to greet their returning laird. A young lad took hold of Lachlan’s horse while one of the soldiers came to Katherine’s side and extended his hand to her.

  The smile of thanks she readily offered immediately faded when she caught a glimpse of the man’s features. Aiden! Pulling back as if scalded, Katherine pointedly refused his assistance and began dismounting on her own. Her legs felt unsteady once she reached the ground and she swayed slightly. A strong arm caught her by the waist. Peevishly, Katherine raised her hand to bat it away and then realized ’twas Lachlan who held her so securely.

  “Thank ye.” She nodded gratefully before stepping away.

  A middle-aged woman pushed herself through the crowd. “Thanks be to God, ye’ve returned at last. I’ve been so worried.”

  She pulled Lachlan into a tight embrace, which he returned. Then, as if remembering he had not arrived alone, he gently disengaged himself and pushed Katherine forward.

  “My mother, Lady Morag. This is Lady Katherine McKenna.”

  The older woman’s face paled as her eyebrows arched in surprise, yet her expression remained calm. “Our men have been searching near and far fer ye, Lady Katherine. I’m pleased to see that ye are safe.”

  She gave Katherine’s hand an awkward pat. Katherine forced a small smile, uncertain how to respond. Her upbringing would not allow her to be outwardly rude, yet what did one say to the mother of the man who had unceremoniously abducted her? Should she tell her to box Aiden’s ears?

  “Why have ye brought her here?” Aiden frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “Have ye changed yer mind about a ransom?”

  “Nay!” Lachlan pinned his brother with a hard look. “I had hoped to bring Lady Katherine to the Convent of the Sacred Heart, but we met Archibald Fraser on our journey and immediately had to change course.”

  Lady Morag stiffened. “How did ye manage to escape from him?”

  “With cunning,” Katherine replied sourly.

  “I cannae believe Fraser willingly let her slip through his grasp,” Aiden remarked, his frown deepening.

  “I concealed her true identity,” Lachlan explained. “And thus it must remain.”

  Heart pounding, Katherine wiped her damp hands down the sides of her cloak, her fear renewed at hearing Lachlan’s words. Archibald Fraser posed a true threat to her and the defenses of MacTavish Keep did not appear to offer the protection she needed from such a brutal enemy.

  “Gracious, what’s wrong with ye, lass?” Lady Morag looked nervously from her son to Katherine. “Ye’ve turned white as a cloud.”

  “She’s been ill with fever and a cough. Standing out here in the cold air must have weakened her and worsened her symptoms,” Lachlan said, a scowl twisting his lips. “She needs to be indoors. Please show her to my chamber and find her some warmer garments.”

  “Lachlan!” Lady Morag’s brows rose in scandalous shock and she cast an anxious eye toward Katherine. Those individuals close enough to hear his request also started muttering amongst themselves. “’Tis most unsuitable fer Lady Katherine to share yer bedchamber.”

  Lachlan’s brows drew together and he gave his mother a disgruntled look. “Ye misunderstand. I’ll sleep elsewhere. She’ll be staying there alone.”

  “’Tis not necessary fer ye to relinquish yer chamber,” Katherine protested. “I dinnae wish to be a nuisance.”

  “Ye need to fully recover from yer illness before ye can make the journey home,” Lachlan reminded her.

  Aiden snorted. “If ye hadn’t run off, Lady Katherine, we wouldn’t have to be making all these complicated arrangements,” he said in a surly tone.

  Katherine’s back stiffened. How dare he blame her for all that had occurred when ’twas his decision to kidnap her that started this long line of unfortunate events?

  “Shut up, Aiden,” Lachlan growled. “’Twas ye who put us on this road with yer foolish, impulsive actions.”
r />   While she appreciated Lachlan’s defense, she was surprised at his harsh tone and the undercurrent of aggression that existed between the two brothers. Her own brothers often had disagreements with each other but seemed to be able to resolve them without undue anger or open hostility.

  Katherine searched Aiden’s handsome features for a hint of remorse for her abduction, yet found none. Clearly, he had few regrets. Her mind started spinning. With Lachlan at her side she was in no immediate danger, however ’twas an important reminder that she needed to be on her guard whenever Aiden was near.

  Lady Morag hesitated, then clasped Katherine’s arm. “Come inside. I’ll show ye where ye may rest.”

  Katherine dutifully followed Lady Morag, trying to control the tremors that shook her body, worried that her illness was returning. They climbed many steep stone steps and Katherine swore she could feel the cold and dampness leeching from the walls that surrounded them.

  Weak light from the arrow slit windows did little to illuminate the way and she paid careful attention to every step to make certain she didn’t lose her footing.

  Katherine’s breathing was winded by the time they reached the landing, distressing proof that her illness still lingered. Unease etched on her face, Lady Morag opened the door to a bedchamber. Curious to learn more about Lachlan, Katherine stepped inside, and quickly realized that she would find no clues about him here.

  The furnishings were simple, almost crude, and well-worn. ’Twas easy to spot the many sections that were mended on the bed curtains, the floor lacked rugs, and the walls were devoid of tapestries that could have provided decoration and warmth.

  ’Twas difficult to believe this was the laird’s chamber, supposedly the best in the keep. With a bit of shock, Katherine realized that there were household servants at McKenna Castle living in greater luxury.

  “I’m sure ’tis not as grand as yer chambers at home,” the older woman said apologetically.

  “The room is most inviting and comfortable,” Katherine replied. She could feel Lady Morag watching her anxiously and she chose her words carefully, not wanting to cause any embarrassment. “’Twas kind of Lachlan to allow me the use of it.”

  Two servants entered the chamber. They filled the fireplace with peat and a few small pieces of wood, then struggled to start a fire.

  “I could see about arranging a bath,” Lady Morag said, tapping her finger nervously against her chin. “Though with yer recent illness, ’tis probably best not to get wet.”

  Katherine would have dearly loved the chance to soak in a hot tub and wash the grit and grim of the last few days from her body. However, she felt certain it would cause a great disruption to the household to have one prepared.

  “A basin of hot water, some soap, and a clean cloth are all that I need, Lady Morag,” Katherine said graciously.

  The older woman’s face relaxed. “We can manage that easily,” she said. “Och, Beth, stand aside. Ye’re never going to get wood that damp to catch.”

  Beth obediently moved away. The second servant, a tall, thin lad, took her place. He too struggled, but between the pair a meager fire was finally started. Katherine hoped when it burned brighter it would take some of the chill and dampness from the chamber.

  “I pray that ye are not overly distressed over this misunderstanding with my son Aiden,” Lady Morag said. “I fear yer kin will misjudge his actions, but ye must believe that he meant ye no harm.”

  Misunderstanding? Katherine opened her mouth to issue a sharp rebuke of that false assessment, but held her tongue when she glimpsed Lady Morag’s uneasy eyes.

  “Mayhap that is true, yet I cannae say how my father will react when he learns what Aiden did.”

  A shadow crossed Lady Morag’s features. “The reputation of the McKennas is fierce.”

  “Only toward our enemies,” Katherine replied.

  “We aren’t yer enemy,” Lady Morag whispered, wringing her hands. “We wish ye no harm.”

  “We can only hope that my father will see it that way,” Katherine replied, realizing that she meant it.

  The blame rested squarely with Aiden and his men. The others were innocent and she felt uncomfortable at the notion that her father’s wrath could fall upon them.

  Upon Lachlan.

  “There’s something else I’d like to ask ye.” Lady Morag’s anxious eyes met hers. “We’ve heard that my youngest son—Robbie—is being held prisoner by the McKennas. ’Tis said that he toils in the quarry. Can ye tell me anything of his fate?”

  The question stunned Katherine. For a few moments she could only stare at the older woman in disbelief and then the pieces suddenly began falling into place. Aye, when the opportunity had presented itself, Aiden had snatched her, but he had done so with a specific plan in mind.

  Her mind spun as the possible reasons for her abduction took on new meaning. Was it revenge that Aiden sought? A fine payment of ransom? Or had he taken her believing the McKenna would be forced to free Robbie in order to gain her freedom?

  She racked her brain, trying to remember if she had ever heard of any MacTavish men being taken prisoner by her family. However, none came to mind.

  “I know naught of such things,” Katherine finally answered, as kindly as possible. “Prisoners are men’s business.”

  The sadness in Lady Morag’s eyes intensified and Katherine felt a twinge of pity for her. ’Twas clear that she loved her son and understandable that she worried about him.

  “Forgive me fer asking.” Lady Morag wet her lips nervously. “I should not have troubled ye with such a question, especially when ye are unwell. Ye must rest now. When it’s time fer the evening meal, I’ll have one of the maids bring ye clean garments so that ye can change and stay warm.”

  And before Katherine could think of anything else to say, Lady Morag was gone.

  * * *

  All eyes were upon Katherine when she entered the great hall. She felt awkward dressed in garments that were not her own. The soft wool gown stretched tightly across her breast and the hem exposed her ankles. It clung to her narrow waist and hips in an almost provocative manner.

  In all likelihood it was one of the older woman’s best gowns and Katherine felt strange wearing it. But the garment was indeed clean and warm and she would not insult Lady Morag by refusing her generosity.

  Lachlan motioned to her and Katherine came to the dais and took the seat at his side, trying to ignore the whispers that followed her.

  Lady Morag flanked Lachlan on the other side, and next to her sat Aiden. Katherine was pleased to have some distance from her kidnapper, as his presence made her uneasy. Each time he glanced at her, Katherine’s flesh prickled uncomfortably with awareness.

  Platters of food were placed in front of them. Lachlan courteously served her first. Eagerly, Katherine selected several large pieces of what she assumed was either beef or venison and placed them on the trencher they shared.

  Using the sharp eating knife Lachlan offered, she stabbed a morsel and popped it into her mouth. The outside was charred to perfection, the inside tender and juicy. Savoring the taste, she reached for another, then sipped from her goblet.

  Her face twisted in a grimace. Instead of wine, ’twas filled with a watery ale that had an unpleasant, bitter aftertaste. It caused her mouth to pucker and her eyes to water when she swallowed.

  “Is our local brew not to yer liking, Lady Katherine?” Aiden asked with a sneer. “Shall we beg yer pardon fer not breaking out our best French wine to celebrate yer arrival?”

  Katherine slowly placed her goblet on the table, aware of the many pairs of avid eyes that were turned upon her. “The ale is unique. Alas, the soreness of my throat prevents me from drinking too much of it.”

  Aiden cast her a second glance; this one cold enough to chill her blood. Katherine tossed her head as though she had not a care in the world, and she flickered her eyes over the people gathered in the hall.

  ’Twas oddly quiet. Used to the loud merriment and c
omradery of the McKenna great hall, she was startled to discover that conversations were few. Indeed, most had their attention on the food that was rapidly disappearing.

  Striving to be polite, Katherine left the remaining pieces of meat on the trencher for Lachlan. She looked with hungry interest at the other bowls and platters on the table, dismayed at the sparsity of the offerings.

  There were some boiled turnips and cabbage, stewed onions that gave off a pungent odor, a few small pieces of fish, and slices of thick, hard brown bread. There was no roasted fowl, no thick stews, no cheese or dried fruit, no confections of any kind.

  Stomach rumbling, Katherine ate another piece of the meat, then forced down a boiled turnip. She looked hopefully toward the servants standing near the entrance to the great hall, but disappointingly, no additional platters of food appeared.

  A serving lad approached the dais and Katherine’s chin lifted with interest. Alas, he held only a pitcher, which she assumed contained more of the bitter-tasting ale.

  With a kind smile, Katherine refused a refill, then watched the lad carefully fill Lachlan’s tankard. The laird nodded his thanks, then leaned back in his chair.

  “I find that I am unable to eat another bite,” he said, slowly pushing the trencher toward the child.

  Katherine nearly reached out to snatch another piece of meat, hesitating only when she took a close look at the lad. He had a gaunt appearance, his arms and legs visibly thin beneath the fraying tunic he wore. Her heart twisted with pity.

  “Father Joseph says ’tis a sin to waste food,” the lad said wistfully.

  “Then ye best eat some of it, so we dinnae offend him—or the good Lord,” Lachlan said gently.

  There was no mistaking the excitement in the lad’s eyes as he reached for the food and began eating. His eyes closed in bliss as he chewed. The moment he was gone, a second child took his place. This time ’twas a lass of no more than four or five years. At Lachlan’s bidding, she took the remaining pieces of meat and stuffed them into her mouth so quickly Katherine feared she might choke.

 

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