by Fiona Faris
He was honestly not sure what the right course of action to take was. On the one side, he was possibly placing Elizabeth in danger. On the other side, he was risking the safety of his own people, though arguably they were already in danger by the shipwreck washing up on their shores with or without Elizabeth. Elizabeth’s presence simply added to the intensity of it. Either way, he feared that whatever choice he made, she would be hurt by it.
When he reached the castle, William awaited him at the gate. “They have deployed a dinghy.” James met his eye in alarm, and the two of them climbed to the top of the castle walls to gaze out upon what felt like their impending doom rowing to shore. “I have instructed for all those aware o’ the Sassenach’s presence tae nae say anythin’ tae anyone without yer word.”
“Aye, that is best ‘til we ascertain what it is they want and who or what they are comin’ here tae find. Nae one is tae say anythin’ ‘til we have taken the measure o’ the situation.”
William nodded. “They approach quickly.”
“Aye. Let us go forth and greet our guests.”
William set his jaw in determination, his hand ready on his sword hilt. “Aye.”
Descending the stairs, they exited the castle and made their way down to the shoreline to greet the dinghy. The men who rowed the dinghy were not dressed as soldiers but sailors. “Ho the shore!” one of them called out. James raised his hand in greeting, and they took the last rows to run ashore. The sailors jumped out of the boat and drug it up onshore. The man who sat in the center of the boat stood and climbed out, walking up to face James who stood at the head of his men.
The man was dressed in clothes made of good quality, normally reserved for the wealthy. He carried himself with an aristocratic air, looking down upon all those around him as if from a lofty height. James did not like the look of the man, and if William tightening the hold on his sword was any indication, neither did he. “Who is in charge here?” the man demanded to know, the hint of an Irish accent tinging his words.
“That would be me, James Alexander MacDonald, Laird o’ Knock Castle. And ye are?”
“Declan Carr, Earl o’ Shae.”
James knew that the proper thing for him to have done was bow, greeting the man by his title, but the haughty glint in the man’s eyes caused him to defy such traditional conventions. “And what brings ye tae our shores?”
“I seek word o’ my intended. She was to have arrived some weeks past on our Irish shores and yet she did not. I thought it prudent to make inquiries along the route she was to take to ensure that naught ran amiss on her journey. I seek an English noblewoman, Lady Elizabeth Dawson, daughter of the Earl of Bierely.”
“Ye must love the lass dearly tae have come all o’ this way,” James remarked, attempting to get a better sense of the man.
“’Tis naught but a business arrangement, an alliance between our two noble families. I admit that she is a woman o’ unparalleled beauty and grace, but unruly and reckless with her tongue; speaking her mind when she should not. Her father applied the lash with little result, but I shall see that her youthful abandon is left behind her and in its place the adoration of a dutiful wife. Her father was sending her to me in hopes that I might be able to tame the filly before the wedding day,” the Irishman chuckled apparently finding the idea to be quite amusing.
It took everything in James’ power not to punch the man square in the face. “We Scots like our lassies spirited. Dinnae the Irish feel the same?”
“Many o’ my countrymen do; however, there is no place for such behavior within a noble household. Something I would not expect a Scot to understand.”
“Indeed,” James agreed, for he did not understand in the slightest why any man would wish to dampen such spirit.
“Have ye seen any lost English women who fit such a description?”
“I cannae say that I have,” James answered. He chose his wording carefully so as not to lie, but not to reveal the truth either. He did not say that he had not seen her; simply that he could not say whether he had or had not. The corner of William’s mouth twitched in amusement at the answer.
“I see.” The Irish Earl looked more inconvenienced than disappointed. “Might I prevail upon you to offer up hospitality to me and my men while I make inquiries of the rest o’ the island’s inhabitants?”
“O’ course,” James agreed, feeling it better that he keep an eye on the man rather than have him roaming about the island unattended and stumbling across Elizabeth. “I will have my own men dispatched on yer behalf with a message o’ inquiry tae all the lairds o’ the island for yer missin’ lass.”
“That is most kind o’ ye, MacDonald. I will o’ course require accommodations befitting my station, food of the best quality, and a willing whore if ye have one, an unwilling one if ye do not.”
“We dinnae have such women here on the Isle o’ Skye.” William made a low growling sound in his throat, but was stayed by James’ hand. It was a lie to be sure, as James knew naught of a single community of any size within all of Scotland that did not boast a whore or two, and William was well acquainted with them all. “Nor do we hold tae rape.”
“Pity,” the Earl remarked, eyeing the warriors before him suspiciously.
“Were ye born in Ireland or are ye from an English noble family awarded lands in Ireland as so many have been?” James asked, attempting to turn the subject of the conversation.
“I was born in Ireland to English paternity.”
“That would explain the lack o’ manners,” William mumbled under his breath for only James to hear as they turned toward the castle. “At least an Irishman would have kenned better than tae behave in such o’ fashion.”
“Aye,” James agreed softly. “The man may speak with the tones of an Irishman, but he is an English popinjay tae be sure.”
“He is nae worthy o’ the lass. As much as I wish tae be rid o’ her and the danger she brings, I must admit that I dinnae care for the idea o’ this man havin’ her tae his bed.”
“Nor do I.” James clenched his hand around his sword hilt as they walked. It took all his self-control not to run the man through. The Earl could do no damage as he was surrounded by James’ men, but it did not stop him from wishing to lop the man’s head off where he stood to prevent such misbehavior.
“If I catch him layin’ a single hand on any o’ our lassies, I’ll lob off his cock and feed it tae the sea,” William threatened.
“I wouldnae have it any other way.” James clapped William on the shoulder in gratitude as they walked back through the castle gates. “See tae it that our guests are properly cared for,” he instructed the castle steward who met them in the courtyard. “Come find me when ye have finished.”
“Aye, Me Laird.” The Steward led the Earl and his men into the castle to see to their accommodations.
Turning to William, James laid out a plan. “We must make a show o’ at least appearin’ tae send out messengers in search o’ the lass. I want ye tae send a rider out tae Andrew MacDonald’s and inform him that he must keep Elizabeth there until the Earl has departed for the mainland.”
“What do ye make o’ his story that he is followin’ the route that her ship would have taken? The storm that night would have blown the lasses’ ship well off course. The man kens more than he is sayin’.”
“Aye, I agree. We must keep eyes on him at all times. I dinnae want any o’ the clanswoman tae go anywhere near the man. We will have only the men tend tae his needs until his departure.”
“A thing that will nae come soon enough, I fear.”
“A sentiment that I share, tae be sure; but we cannae appear tae be hidin’ anythin’, and tae rush him would be cause for suspicion. He must appear tae be treated as our honored guest, but ne’er tae be left tae himself.” James stopped speaking as the sailors from the ship approached.
“We are to report back to our ship.”
“William, please see our guests tae their ship.”
“Aye
, Laird. I will see that it is so.” William bowed his head in submission as a show to the Sassenach sailors, then turned and led the men down to their dinghy. When he returned, James still awaited him in the courtyard. “They have returned tae the ship, and I have set guards to watch their every move. They’ll nae step foot on our shores without our kennin’ it.”
“Ye have done well, William. Now let us see ourselves through this without incident. I would hate tae have tae kill the cuddie afore we can rid ourselves o’ him in any better way.”
“But would ye, hate it?” William asked a knowing gleam in his eyes.
“Only in as much as it would be dangerous tae me fellow clansmen.”
“’Tis as I thought, then. Ye have nae intentions o’ lettin’ the Sassenach lass go with him.”
“Would ye place her in the arms o’ such a man?”
“Nae, I wouldnae. But is it nae her choice tae make?”
“Aye,” James sighed. “But she does nae ken enough about herself or this man tae keep herself safe from harm. She is me responsibility, and as such, I cannae release her intae the care o’ such a man.”
“She cannae remain here or the English will come lookin’ for her.”
“Nae, she cannae, but now we ken her surname, and her faither’s. We will be able tae learn more about her now. When we have found a safe place for her tae go, where she will be cared for as we would care for her, then I will let her go.”
“And if she loves the bastard Irishman?”
“Then the choice is removed from me hands.”
“Aye, that it is.”
“Until then, Elizabeth will remain secreted away at Andrew MacDonald’s until I say otherwise.”
“Aye, Laird,” William agreed, but James could tell that his Keeper’s concerns had not been alleviated.
He knew that he risked much by refusing to present Elizabeth to the Irishman, but he could not help how he felt about her or the idea of the man’s hands upon her body where James had so recently been. I would sooner kill the bastard, then allow him tae lay a single finger on the lass. The image of Elizabeth’s naked form moving beneath him flashed through his mind, and he ached with the need of her. Were that she could be mine, always.
“Do ye love the lass?” William asked studying his laird’s face.
“Aye, I do, but there is nae for it.”
William laid a hand on James’ shoulder. “Ye will soon take comfort in the lovein’ arms o’ a good Scottish wife o’ yer own, and all such thoughts o’ Sassenach lassies will flee.”
“Let us hope that ye are right.” James very much doubted that he was, but he had thought himself incapable of loving anyone but Marra until he had met Elizabeth. Perhaps he would be wrong again.
“Perhaps when this is o’er, ye could invite yer intended tae stay with ye here at Knock Castle tae become better acquainted. Would it nae be best tae remove any further temptation toward the Sassenach lassie?”
“I would have me betrothed well clear o’ any o’ this sordid business. She is but a mere alliance for the safety o’ our people, and nae more than that. ‘Twould nae be prudent tae have her here until Elizabeth is gone and away from our shores.”
“Is that the true reason, or do ye simply wish for yer cock tae remain unfettered?”
James turned hard eyes on his friend in challenge. “Dinnae think for one moment that I place the needs o’ me own heart and body o’er the needs o’ me people.”
William raised his hands in surrender. “I am sorry, James. I ken that well enough. I am only concerned for yer wellbein’ and that o’ those under yer care. Ye have yer hands full enough with the threats tae yer life, and schemes o’ blackmail whispered in dark corners threatenin’ tae be brought out in tae the light. I will nae see yer head parted from yer shoulders as long as I still draw breath, but the Sassenach’s presence makes that verra difficult.”
“Aye, I ken it well, as the proof lies with the cuddie above stairs.”
“I would just as soon slit him from cock tae throat as have him under the same roof as any o’ our lassies.”
James nodded. “See tae it that all o’ the women are removed from the keep durin’ our guest’s stay but those required in the kitchens. Place the kitchen under guard and report back tae me anythin’ amiss.”
“And what o’ the blackmailers?”
“I dinnae believe that the blackmailers will attempt anythin’ while the Earl is here. They are out tae end me, nae the clan itself. They will nae risk bringin’ the wrath o’ the English down upon us if they ken what is good for their own souls. God himself would strike them down were they tae serve as traitors tae their own people.”
“I hope ye are right and that they have the sense nae tae act any more foolishly than they already have.”
“I dinnae ken for certain that they will nae; but I must trust in their own desire tae live free o’ the English, e’en if they would prefer tae see me hanged.”
“Nae afore I see every last one o’ them fall at the end o’ me blade,” William promised.
“’Til then we will do what we must tae keep them at bay; but all further work tae that end must wait in favor o’ more pressin’ concerns.”
“Aye. As ye say.”
William went to do as instructed pertaining to the clanswoman of the keep, while James went to see that their unwanted guest had been properly seen to. Along the way he passed the castle steward looking quite distressed. “What has happened?”
“The Earl has proclaimed himself tae have certain needs and has gone about procurin’ them in a less than desirable fashion.” The steward looked pale, his muscles strained in displeasure.
“Where is he?”
“He is in the kale garden, Me Laird.”
James moved quickly through the kitchen looking for William but did not find him there. The cook was crying in the corner with several of the kitchen maids. “Are ye hurt?” The cook shook her head in denial. James moved on through the door into the kale garden. He found the Earl there, standing half-naked with William’s blade to his throat, and a kitchen maid lying upon the ground sobbing, her dress torn blood smeared between her legs.
Chapter Seventeen
“I will slit yer throat and leave ye tae the dogs!” William roared, shoving the Irishman to his knees.
“And ye will hang for it shortly thereafter,” the Earl sneered. “The girl is naught but a servant. Ye would allow yer neck to be stretched on account o’ a kitchen maid?”
“And who would see me hang? Is yer ghost goin’ tae see tae it from the grave?”
“My men will see to it that ye hang, whether by their hand, or by that o’ English soldiers; but it will happen.”
“Stay yer hand, William,” James ordered. He was loath to do so, as he wished very much to see the man dead upon the ground, but the Earl was right. If William slit the nobleman’s throat, they would be swarming with Englishmen before they could do aught to stop it. Moving to stand in front of the Earl, James looked down into his face. “Look at me,” he demanded angrily, sticking his blade up under the man’s chin. “Ye have violated the lass and for this ye must pay. I would gladly see ye dead upon the ground for what ye have done, but I ken well enough what such a thing would bring. Ye will leave this castle and return tae yer ship. Ye will pay compensation tae the lasses’ family for the loss o’ her maidenhead, enough tae provide for the lass should she nae find a husband. Ye will nae step foot on this land e’er again. If we find word o’ yer betrothed, we will send it tae yer ship.”
“Ye cannot keep me from searching an entire island.”
James nudged the sword further until it nicked the skin causing blood to flow. “Aye, I can, and I will. I will spread word throughout the Isle o’ Skye o’ yer deeds here, and nae laird will allow ye entry. Ye have abused me hospitality and must pay the price.” Looking up to William he ordered, “Get this man out o’ me sight.”
“Aye, Laird,” William jerked the man up and dragged him down to the shore
line throwing him into the water. The ship immediately sent their dinghy out to return to shore.
James turned from the sight, knowing that William had it well in hand. He moved over to the side of the kitchen maid and knelt beside her. “Ye cannae let that evil man take the Lady Elizabeth, e’en if she is a Sassenach. Nae lass deserves tae be treated this way.” The girl’s entire body trembled in fear and revulsion. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she turned her head to vomit in the dirt. “Och, lass,” James held her hair back away from her face. When she was done expelling the contents of her stomach, he lifted her into his arms and carried her into the keep.
When he entered the kitchen, the cook rushed forward. “Ye poor, wee lass. Give her here tae me. Ye had best go and tell her family that she will be stayin’ here at the castle this night.”
