* * *
Hours turned into days, and I started to fear that my placement here was not a temporary arrangement made out of his initial anger at finding me in Arran’s embrace. By my count at least four days had passed. A total of eight meals, two a day, had been brought, as well as plenty of blankets. Someone had come to empty my chamber pot three times daily, and I always had plenty of water to drink.
It could have been much worse, and I was certain that for anyone else who had ever been placed here, it had been. Still, I was accustomed to central heating and air, at least three meals a day, and regular showers. Not to mention a daily dose of television…and toilet paper. As far as I was concerned, my pleasant, fantastical coma dream had turned to the worst kind of nightmare. A nightmare that I now firmly believed was not a dream at all, but a state of reality I couldn’t begin to understand.
Always an over-thinker, I had learned through the years that it was best if I kept busy. Limiting my time spent analyzing and thinking about things too much helped me to stay content with work and a home life spent entirely alone.
Once the initial shock of being tossed into the dungeon had worn off and I realized that Eoin wasn’t coming back to get me, I was left with nothing else to do but think. The dizzying emotional highs and lows, the elusive mentions of Blaire that I didn’t understand, everything was far too complicated for me to dream up on my own.
These oddities alone should have been sufficient, but it was the events leading to my imprisonment that finally forced me to face the truth. More than once, I had been awakened from a light sleep, which means, I had been sleeping. The first time, I’d put it off to medication, but it seemed impossible that I would enter some sort of coma dream, dreaming the same thing, over and over again.
I truly was in 1645 Scotland. Truly in the castle and surrounded by the people my mother had spent her entire life studying. Every time I had felt panic begin to take over, every time some unpleasant thought had tugged at the back of my brain, it had been this realization trying to break through. I had given my greatest effort to push it away. Even the wildest imaginary scenarios seemed more favorable than this startling reality.
If I believed I was in a coma, there was hope of escape. Hope of returning to my life, my home, my students. Hope of seeing my mother again. Without that hope, I couldn’t begin to comprehend what was happening, how I had ended up here, and what the rest of my life would look like.
However irrational, I was completely unwilling to give up that hope. Coma or no coma, I would escape from this prison and find a way to get back home. I knew it had something to do with the portrait I’d found when Mom and I were excavating the secret basement room. It had been my portrait, and the words below it must have been some sort of spell. If the contents of that room were powerful enough to pull me backward through time, surely there was something that could send me forward.
But first, I had to find a way out of this cell.
Chapter 14
“Leave it at the door, Mary. The same as I’ve been asking ye to do for days, now.”
The knocking stopped, but the voice that came through the doorway had Eoin on his feet in an instant, fists trembling with the anger he’d been struggling to contain for days.
“Eoin! Ye know we must talk,” Arran demanded. “What are ye doing to her? Ye canna keep her captive in yer bedchamber forever, and ye can no continue to ignore me either.”
“Go away. I’ve no more use for either one of ye. Unless ye want me to beat yer head in, ye best get away from the door.”
“What have ye done to her, Eoin? I swear if ye hurt her I’ll kill ye myself, even if ye are me brother! Open the door!”
It had been four days. Four days locked up in his bedchamber, stewing over his anger and disappointment, trying to make everyone in the castle believe he was honeymooning with his new bride. Four days of imagining his brother touching and caressing Blaire, while she sank into him, moaning and moving in response.
The knocking turned to pounding as a large object made contact with the other side of the door. If Eoin didn’t stop him, he was sure to draw attention from other parts of the castle, which was the last thing he wanted while his new bride was locked away.
“Stop it, ye fool!” He yanked the door open and stepped away as the post Arran was holding zoomed past his head.
Arran threw down the rod and pushed his way into the room. “Where is she, Eoin? No one has seen either one of ye since the wedding, which would be fine if I dinna know how angry ye are.” He walked quickly through the room, looking behind curtains, turning over tables, looking for Blaire. “What have ye done with her?”
“She’s no here, Arran.” Eoin stood still in the doorway, watching as his brother tore through his room. “What the hell do ye think ye are doing? She’s my wife, and an unfaithful whore at that, and ye dare ask me what I’ve done with her?”
“Where is she?” Arran pounded his fist against the wall and whirled toward Eoin. “It was my fault. I was drunk, Eoin. I thought that I was coming into me own room, and it turned out to be yers. She heard me outside the door and helped me back to my room. I could hardly stand up.”
“Hardly stand? God Arran, ye were about to take her in the middle of the hallway. I doona care whose fault it is. I’ll have nothing to do with the both of ye. Now get out of my chambers!” Eoin moved to place his hands on Arran’s shoulders, but Arran quickly moved out of his way.
“I’m no going anywhere until ye tell me where she’s gone. Did ye send her back home, Eoin? To disgrace her father and territory? Surely, ye could no be so cruel. Ye have already wed her.”
“That didn’t stop the two of ye from betraying me, did it? I willna listen to this from ye. Ye have to grow up, Arran, and stop taking everything ye want!”
“I wasn’t trying to take her, Eoin. It was a mistake, and I’m sorry for it. She had little say in what happened.”
“I don’t care what ye have to say, Arran, the wee bitch is staying where I put her, and ye won’t be seeing her again.”
“Like hell I won’t! I won’t touch Blaire again. She’s yer wife, and I’m sorry for what happened. But I will see her and make sure that ye have no harmed her.”
“Do ye really think I’d harm her? I haven’t even hurt ye, and ye deserve a beating far more than she does. How could ye do it? The one person that was forbidden to ye!”
“It was an accident. She was kind enough to help me to me room, and I took advantage of her. But to answer ye, I doona know what ye would do right now, brother! I’ve never seen ye so angry. If ye dinna harm her or send her away, then where is she?” Arran stepped forward and hesitantly placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder.
Eoin flinched at the touch and tightened his fists to keep from striking his brother. “She’s down below where she belongs. Where ye belong too!” He stepped away so that he could better see Arran’s face and gauge his reaction. He was looking for an excuse to hit him, and he hoped that his brother would give him the opportunity.
“Down below? Tell me ye dinna put her in the dungeon! No one has been kept there since before we were born.”
“That’s where I put her, and that’s where she’ll stay. If ye want to join her, ye are more than welcome.”
In a flash Arran’s fist hit the side of his face. It pushed his body sideways, but Eoin quickly recovered, charging toward his brother as Arran screamed at him between blows.
“What the hell is wrong with ye? I would no leave a dog down there. I will no let ye leave her down there to rot.”
Pent-up rage erupted as Eoin slammed into his brother, sending them both to the floor in a whirl of kicking legs and surging fists.
“I doona think ye have much say in the matter, brother. Ye may be sleeping with her, but I’m laird. She’s my wife. I’ll do with the lass as I please.”
The sudden sound of Mary’s voice in the doorway caused both men to freeze in their entangled mess.
“Oh me God! What is the matter wit
h the two of ye? Why, ye are both grown men and ye are acting like a couple of bairns, and in front of the new lady too! Why, I’m ashamed of the both of ye! And yer father would be too!”
Both men guiltily untangled themselves and faced Mary, who stood in the doorway with both hands on her hips, no less formidable to them than she’d been when they were children.
Silence hung in the air, and both brothers knew Mary wouldn’t budge until an explanation was given.
Arran broke the silence first. “We were no fighting in front of Blaire. She’s not here. Eoin has her locked away in the dungeon.”
Eoin and Arran watched as Mary’s face turned ghostly white, only to be followed by a shade of scarlet rushing up into her cheeks.
“Forgive me? I know old Mary’s hearing things now. Where did ye say the lass is?”
Arran turned to Eoin who continued to stare blankly ahead at Mary, anger flaring in his eyes.
“No, Mary. Ye heard me right. The bastard’s locked her away. That’s where she’s been since the night of the wedding.”
Mary leaned back against the doorway, fanning herself dramatically. “Oh, me God. Ye boys are going to be the death o’ me! What in the blethering hell is he talking about, Eoin?”
“I caught the two of them kissing only hours after the wedding. I could no be near her, and I dinna want the entire castle learning what she’d done.”
“Ach Eoin, if ye dinna stand several feet over me, I’d be knocking that pretty nose of yers back up into yer skull.”
Eoin raised his eyebrows and Arran grinned slightly as Mary continued.
“I doona care if ye walked in on the lass lifting her skirts for the entire village. Ye know very well it is unacceptable for ye to leave her down there.” She squinted her eyes at Eoin, each circle of gray saying more than her tongue ever could, and stepped to the right so that she was in front of Arran.
“And as for ye, boy! Ye better explain this situation to Mary right fast before I keel over at the stupidity of ye both!”
Arran cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably on his feet before answering. “Well, truthfully, I canna say for sure what happened. I’m ashamed to say I was too drunk to properly tell which way was up or down, and I wound up at Eoin’s bedchamber door, thinking it was me own.”
“Eck hmm…” Mary cleared her throat disapprovingly and motioned with her hand for him to continue.
“Blaire must have heard me outside the door. She opened it, and I fell in on top of her. She could see I would no make it to me room without help. She helped me and I kissed her, I’m no too sure about the details.”
Mary briefly rolled her eyes before shooting Arran another disapproving look, then slid back over to stand in front of Eoin once more.
“I’ll no be letting that poor girl stay down there, Eoin. I doona care if ye never sleep in the same room, or if ye are never seen together except in public for the rest of yer life. Ye have to know she canna stay there!”
Properly beaten and ashamed, Eoin slowly nodded, trying to swallow his anger at the situation.
“I’ll no be letting ye retrieve her from the dungeon either, Eoin. I’m sure the poor lass is scared to death of ye after being down there for days. I want ye to leave. Right now. Go for a ride, clear yer head, and only come back when ye are ready to apologize and make whatever peace ye want to with the lass. But there will be peace, do ye understand? I’ll no have shouting day in and day out just because yer father is no here to keep the two of ye in line.” She quickly marched around Eoin and gave him a hard shove in the back. “Get on with ye. Now. Ye can find the lass in the lavender room, later.”
“What about him?” Eoin jerked his elbows in Arran’s direction, suddenly feeling as if he was eight years old once again, and not understanding why his punishment differed from his brother’s.
Mary shifted her gaze back and forth between both brothers before continuing. “I doona see why it’s any concern of yers, but just so ye will both be satisfied, Arran is going to leave for a few days. Ride out with Kip to pick up a few more horses for the stables. He’s leaving now, aren’t ye, Arran?”
Arran lowered his head and made his way to the door, only pausing to address both Mary and Eoin. “Aye, Mary. I’ll go. And Eoin, I am sorry, brother. Doona take it out on Blaire. The blame is mine.”
Eoin turned, intent on making it to the stables before his brother left to meet Kip. “Aye. I’m sure ye put the lass in a difficult situation, but she should no have behaved as she did. I’ll speak to ye when ye return, Arran. Safe travels.”
With that, he turned and was gone. Arran and Mary following silently behind him.
* * *
A familiar voice caused me to stir from the restless and—thankfully—dreamless sleep I’d fallen into after hours of unsuccessfully trying to figure a way out of this hellhole.
Exhausted, filthy, and most of all frightened, it took me a moment to realize that the voice belonged to Mary. I swallowed a hard lump that rose in the back of my throat, bringing with it tears of joy, which came from the almost certain knowledge that she would not let them leave me down here.
“Ach, lassie! Ye sure have managed to upset the men around here. One’s yearning for ye so much he has no stayed sober in days, and the other’s calling ye a whore, and that’s the nicest of it! Now, stand up! I’ve sent both of the boys away for a bit. I’ll bring ye back up and place ye in his late mother’s chambers, and ye can get yerself cleaned up. I expect ye’ll have some time alone. It will take the lads a wee bit o’ time to calm down and realize how foolish they’ve both been.”
I stood a little more shakily than was warranted. Physically, I was fine. Mentally, I was so confused and pissed off that the effort it took to stand seemed almost too much. My voice cracked when I spoke. “Mary, I need to know exactly what’s going on here. You have to tell me what you know.”
“What did ye say, dearie? Wait until we get ye settled in yer new room, and the two of us will have a nice, long talk.” Mary motioned to the guard standing at the end of the passageway, who obviously knew better than to question her. He retrieved the cell key from his belt before he made his way to the door and obediently opened the lock.
Now released from my cell, I gladly followed her into a beautiful bedroom directly across from Eoin’s. Mary left after depositing me in the room, but within minutes she returned with a trail of servants carrying steaming pitchers of water to fill the tub. After laying out some fresh clothes, she sat down on the edge of the bed and crossed her arms, resting them on the fullness of her stomach. She waited until the tub was filled with steaming water and the servants had retreated before she spoke.
“Alright, dearie. I know ye must be scared to death after the last few days ye’ve had here. I apologize for no explaining what I knew before the wedding, but there just was no time. And believe me, dear, I dinna know where Eoin had placed ye. If I had, I would’ve retrieved ye immediately.”
I smiled gently and stood watching her intently. “I know, Mary. Thank you. But, please, tell me what’s going on. How did I end up here?”
Mary uncomfortably crossed her arms, only to cross them once again as I watched her struggle to find the right words.
“Well, the truth of it is, dearie, that I doona know all that much. Before Alasdair’s death, he told me a long story, but at the time I put most of it up to his injuries. But then, I saw ye, strange as ye could be, and as ignorant as a wee lamb, and I knew everything he’d said was true.”
“What did he say?”
“He said that his sister—she was a witch, ye see—placed a spell and someday soon a young lass in the likeness of Blaire would be brought into our lives. He begged me to watch over ye and to help ye in any way that I could. He said that ye would save us all from something horrible. What he meant by that, I’ll never know. I expect more answers could be found in Morna’s basement, but I canna read myself and never thought to look.”
“Morna’s basement? Where is that, Mary? I
need to go and look immediately. I have to find a way home.”
“Ach, dearie. I doona expect ye’d find anything to help ye do that. There was a reason Morna wanted ye here. I doubt she would make it easy for ye to leave. If ye want to look, I’ll help ye anyway I can. But no tonight, lass. Right now, ye are to get yerself into that tub immediately and relax until Old Mary brings ye something to eat, do ye understand? Come morning, I’ll show ye to Morna’s room.”
She gave me no opportunity to argue, and as I watched the steam rise from the tub I found myself less anxious to explore Morna’s spell room. I could smell myself, even standing still, and knew I was in desperate need of a bath.
Once stripped, I sunk graciously into the tub, bending my knees so that the water came up to my chin and only my head and kneecaps breached the surface of the water. The water had clearly just been taken off the fire. It was almost too hot, but I was too tired and dirty to care.
It seemed odd to go from watched prisoner to complete solitude so quickly. It occurred to me briefly that I should jump out of the tub and flee the castle immediately, but I knew there was nowhere better for me to go. I wasn’t likely to find any answers outside of these walls, and at least Mary seemed to know where I might find them, even if she did a lousy job of explaining it.
I hadn’t realized how tense I was until the heat from the water slowly worked its way over my body, forcing my muscles to relinquish their tight grip. I breathed deeply, relishing the feeling of my nails against my skin as I scrubbed away the dirt on my ankles and arms.
With the tips of my fingers and toes wrinkled to prunes and my skin red from both the heat of the water and the thorough scrub-down I’d just given myself, I lay my head against the back of the tub and threw my hair over the side, allowing it to dry.
The steam from the water quickly receded, and as my skin tightened in response to the cooling water I turned my head toward the fireplace and stared into the flames. The brilliant amber beams danced over the wood, and as I followed their movement the cooling water seemed warm once more.
Morna's Legacy: Box Set #1 Page 9
