Temptation in a Kilt

by Victoria Roberts

  Cousin?

  “I spoke to ye as such. Ye merely had to listen.” Beathag held out her hand in front of him. “I expect the coin that was promised to me, Archie.”

  He laughed and patted her hand. “Ye donna get it that easily, my dear. I believe the deal was for the MacGregor.”

  Beathag huffed. Her coolness was evidence she was not amused. “And it will only be a matter of time before he storms your gates.”

  Ignoring Beathag, the Campbell took another step toward Rosalia, and his dark eyes examined her from head to toe. She held her breath under his silent scrutiny and did not dare look in his direction. “I think ye are losing your touch, Cousin. I wonder why the MacGregor chose her instead of ye? She is nay great beauty.” He smirked, placing his hand over Rosalia’s breast. “Mayhap she services him better than ye did,” he said with a wolfish-grin.

  Aisling jerked to her feet. “Leave her be!”

  “And what have we here?” he said, taking predatory steps toward Aisling. He tapped his finger over his lip as he studied her.

  “’Tis the second MacGregor’s wife. The whelp belongs to her,” said Beathag.

  “Mmm… I only intended on capturing his woman,” he said, gesturing toward Rosalia. He turned back to Aisling and took another predatory step closer. “How fortunate for me I find ye within my walls as well.”

  Aisling looked away hastily.

  “Ye will look at me when I speak to ye,” the Campbell ordered, his mouth twisted into a threat. Aisling glared at him, and he laughed with subtle amusement. “Och, I do love a challenge, and I love my women with some spirit. I think ye will be both.”

  Rosalia turned her head away. She could not let this happen. She had to do something. She silently prayed Ciaran would storm the gates and kill them all.

  When Teàrlach’s wails echoed through the great hall, the Campbell made a dismissive gesture with his hands. “Take the bairn out and kill him.” The man left with Teàrlach, and a woman with tresses as black as the night followed him out of the hall. Rosalia watched helplessly as Aisling dropped to the floor and sobbed with such a sound of loss that her cries tore through Rosalia’s heart like a dagger—one that she would gladly put through the Campbell’s black heart.

  “Take her to my chamber,” ordered the Campbell.

  Aisling no longer fought, and the men had to lift her up and drag her away. Rosalia knew Aisling had just given up hope. She would do everything in her power not to let that happen to herself.

  Everything in the hall went quiet.

  The Campbell strode away from Rosalia, shouting, “Throw her in the dungeon.” She was roughly pulled to her feet and escorted down a stone staircase. Upon their descent, the remaining light faded and the change in temperature made her shiver. One of the guards lit a torch and escorted her to the last door.

  The guard pushed the door open with his foot and smiled with a toothless grin. “Your chamber, MacGregor whore,” he spat, shoving her into the room.

  She glanced around her small prison, seeing only a dirty, worn blanket thrown into the corner.

  The guard slid the latch, barring the door, and Rosalia was embraced by darkness. She sat with her back against the wall, folding her arms over her knees. She prayed the gods would watch over Teàrlach.

  Her eyes were playing tricks on her as light appeared to be coming closer to her prison. She wiped her tears and stood. She did not imagine it. The same guard escorted Aisling to the door. Unlatching the door, he opened it and shoved her inside.

  Aisling fell to her knees and Rosalia embraced her. “Och, Aisling,” she said, pushing her hair back from her face. “Please tell me ye are unharmed.” The door slammed shut and the light again faded until they were in complete darkness. She pulled her close and rubbed her hands over her back. “Och, Aisling. Ye are freezing. There is a blanket in the corner. I will get it for ye.”

  She rose and carefully slid her foot toward the other wall. The only sound coming from their prison was the sound of her sliding foot. Aisling did not make a single sound or utter a single word. When Rosalia reached the wall, she felt for the blanket with her foot. Picking it up, she shook it out, praying there was nothing in it. It was probably fortunate they were in the dark. At least they could not see the muck.

  Carefully making her way back to Aisling, she placed the blanket over her shoulders. “Och, Aisling. Please speak to me. Are ye hurt?” The only answer Rosalia received was a sniffle, and she repeated the question.

  “It doesnae matter. My bairn is dead. He killed my Teàrlach!” cried Aisling, sounding unnatural.

  Rosalia placed her arms around Aisling and held her tight while Aisling’s body rocked as she sobbed. “My bairn… my Teàrlach, my Teàrlach,” she cried over and over.

  Blinking back her tears, Rosalia choked with emotion. She needed to be strong for them both or they would never survive. “Shh… Aisling. I am here with ye. We will get through this.”

  “Teàrlach is dead. Why didnae the gods take me? Why, Rosalia? I would have given my life for his! I donna understand why they wouldnae take me! Teàrlach was an innocent bairn!”

  Rosalia rubbed her hand over Aisling’s tresses in an attempt to soothe her. “We donna know why the gods do what they do, but I do know it wasnae your time, Aisling. They still have a plan for ye. I am sure the gods watch over Teàrlach.”

  “I hope Aiden kills every last one of those bloody Campbells,” said Aisling through gritted teeth.

  “I know, Aisling. Come…” Assisting Aisling to the far wall, Rosalia held her well into the night. Aisling would sleep and then wake up screaming for Teàrlach, but Rosalia tried to console her friend as best as she could. She must have fallen asleep for a short time because something pulled her from her sleep. It sounded as if something had fallen outside the door. Shuffling noises came from the other side.

  “My lady.”

  Thinking she heard someone whisper from outside the door, she quickly banished the thought. It was probably her mind playing tricks on her. Listening for another moment, she did not hear anything and shook her head for clarity. The last thing she needed was to lose her wits.

  “My lady,” a woman’s voice said louder.

  This time she did hear something. “Aye?” Rosalia whispered in return.

  “Please come to the door. I brought some blankets.”

  Aisling stirred and started crying out for Teàrlach. “Shh… Aisling,” Rosalia murmured.

  “Rosalia, where are ye going?” she cried with panic in her voice.

  “A woman is here with some blankets.” She attempted to rise, but Aisling hastily grabbed her skirts.

  “Donna trust her! She will kill ye when ye reach the door! Donna!” She clung to Rosalia’s legs.

  “My lady, please be quiet. Donna wake the guards,” the woman pleaded.

  “Aisling, I only travel to the door.” When Rosalia felt Aisling release her hold, she shuffled her feet and held her hands out in front of her, feeling her way to the door. “Who are ye?”

  There was a heavy silence.

  “Someone who doesnae agree with the ways of men,” the woman simply stated.

  Aisling bumped into her from behind and pushed her to the side. “Ye killed my son. I pray my husband slays every last one of ye bloody Campbells,” she said through gritted teeth. “Take your blankets and shove them up your arse.”

  There was a brief silence before the woman spoke again.

  “Your son isnae dead,” the woman whispered.

  Aisling cried out. “Ye tell untruths! Why would ye do this to me? Rosalia, donna believe her. We heard the Campbell order Teàrlach’s death. She speaks untruths to make us only further suffer!”

  “My lady, please lower your voice. I donna have much time, and the guards will be making their rounds soon. Ye have
my solemn vow your son is safe.”

  “Aye, the solemn vow of a Campbell,” Aisling bit out.

  “I am handing ye the blankets through the slits in the door,” said the woman.

  Rosalia fumbled her way, pulling them through the bars. “Why are ye helping us?”

  The woman gave a strong sigh. “If I can avoid the laird, I will bring your son late on the morrow. I must take my leave now,” said the woman quickly, avoiding the question.

  “Wait!” Aisling called out. “Are ye the one that helped me?”

  “Helped ye?” Rosalia countered.

  “Aye,” the woman answered. “I will speak with ye on the morrow. Speak of this to nay one.”

  Rosalia heard muffling sounds in the opposite direction of the guards. Interesting… there must be another passage out of the dungeon.

  Aisling sat back down next to Rosalia against the wall. “What did ye mean when ye spoke the woman helped ye?” asked Rosalia.

  “The men took me to the Campbell’s chamber. He was going to rape me,” she choked out. “As he climbed upon the bed to perform the deed, a woman walked in and said he couldnae touch me for if he did, he would be cursed for all of eternity. He quickly rose and dismissed me to the guard.”

  “So ye werenae…”

  “Nay.”

  “Thank the gods! I worried about ye so. I didnae know if ye were hurt,” Rosalia choked out, barely able to get the words past her throat.

  Aisling rested her hand on her shoulder. “His stench still lingers upon my body, but he didnae have me.”

  “Praise the saints for sending the woman.” She remembered something from the great hall. “What color were her tresses?”

  “’Tis odd ye ask me of that because even though I only remember parts, I do remember her tresses being as black as a raven.”

  “I thought as much. When we were in the great hall, I saw such a woman watching us with such a look of regret or sadness upon her face. I am joyful I didnae imagine it.”

  They were silent for a few moments.

  “I am afraid to ask, but do ye think my Teàrlach lives?” Aisling could barely get the words to come out of her mouth before she choked on them.

  She placed her arm over Aisling’s shoulders and pulled her close. “I am verra hopeful. It doesnae make sense that she brings ye blankets and then would speak untruths about Teàrlach. I am thinking mayhap we have an ally.”

  “Rosalia, I cannae live without my son. I am his mother. I was to protect him.”

  “Aisling, ye are a wonderful mother and there was naught ye could have done. The Campbell is a black-hearted, cruel man. He finds joy in the misery of others. Let us hope he doesnae make us suffer further. Even if we stay in the dungeon, I think ’tis better than what he would place upon us. We have to do whatever we must to survive and pray Ciaran and Aiden come quickly.”

  It was difficult to tell what time of day it was since there was nothing but total blackness. It seemed they had been held in their prison for several long hours. Rosalia guessed it might be around mid-morning.

  The sound of approaching voices reached their door, and the guards appeared with torches in hand. A guard unlatched the door and shoved the light through it. “Get up,” the man ordered. “The laird wants to see ye.”

  Stepping out into the corridor, Rosalia glanced to the left and stared at a blank wall. She wondered where the entrance to the passage was located. A man pushed her firmly down the corridor and up the stone staircase. When they reached the top, they placed their hands over their brows to block out the sun. After being surrounded by darkness for so long, the blinding light took a toll on their sight.

  Approaching the great hall, Rosalia heard voices raised in a heated discussion. “Why, Cousin? Ye claimed to know him well. Why doesnae he storm the gates? My men await for naught!” the Campbell bellowed.

  “I donna know why he doesnae storm the gates, Archie. Mayhap he hasnae yet seen his brother,” replied Beathag in exasperation.

  “Then ye didnae complete your task now, did ye? Ye willnae receive coin from me,” he said curtly.

  “Donna ye go back on your word, Archie! We have an agreement.”

  “We had an agreement if the MacGregor doesnae storm my gates,” he said tersely.

  Upon their entrance to the great hall, the Campbell silenced Beathag with a glare. “Bring them forward,” he said, gesturing with his hand. He started to pace. “I want to know why the MacGregor doesnae come for ye.” He took a step closer toward Rosalia. “Are ye the MacGregor’s wife?”

  From the conversation Rosalia had overheard, Beathag was not currently in the Campbell’s favor. Perhaps she could draw a wedge further between them. It was worth a try. Rosalia pointed to Aisling. “She is the MacGregor’s wife.”

  The Campbell huffed. “She is the second MacGregor’s wife,” he said impatiently. “Are ye wed to the MacGregor or nae?”

  “Declan?” She tried to squeak convincingly. “Declan is nae wed.”

  He grunted. “Are all women daft?” He slapped his hand to his head. “Nae the third MacGregor, ye daft woman. Are ye wed to the laird?”

  Rosalia rolled her eyes as if she now understood his question. “Why didnae ye just ask me if I was wed to Ciaran? Nay, I am nae wed to him. Ye think he would take me to wife?” she said, gesturing to her body.

  The Campbell looked at her in disgust. “Ye are his leman. Are ye nae?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest.

  She purposefully looked offended. “Leman? I assure ye I am nay leman.”

  He approached Beathag with a trace of annoyance upon his face. “Mayhap ye have it wrong, Cousin.”

  Beathag’s eyes flew wide open as if he had insulted her. She stormed over to Rosalia. “I donna have it wrong. Tell him ye care for Ciaran.”

  “I care for all of the MacGregors,” she stated simply.

  Beathag gritted her teeth. “Tell him ye are his leman,” she spat.

  “I am nay whore. That was your task, I do believe,” Rosalia said, folding her arms over her chest. When Beathag’s face reddened, Rosalia had the feeling she had better cease this game before it led to serious trouble.

  “It doesnae make sense. Even if he doesnae care for her, he would at least come to rescue his sister-by-marriage. Yet, Cousin, he doesnae. I wonder why that is.” His eyes narrowed at Beathag.

  “I donna know, Archie. Why donna ye send him a missive?” she offered.

  “And chance it being intercepted by King James’s men, ye stupid chit?” he bellowed, continuing to pace. “The MacGregor is loyal to a fault. He will come for his sister-by-marriage. We will wait, but my patience is growing thin. And ye better nae be wrong, Cousin.”

  Beathag paled.

  “Take them back to the dungeon,” the Campbell ordered. “I cannae stand the sight of MacGregors in my presence.”

  Rosalia and Aisling were escorted back to their prison and left again in total darkness. At least they were not made to suffer in the Campbell’s presence or to put up with his machinations.

  “Why were ye trying to provoke the Campbell?” asked Aisling.

  Rosalia sighed. “His ire is raised against Beathag and I thought to use it to our favor. If he was angry enough with her, he might err, and that could only help Ciaran and Aiden. I think I was able to raise some doubt in the faith he placed in Beathag. That can only help us.”

  “I hope she gets what she deserves. I cannae believe she plotted all this time with the bloody Campbell. It doesnae come as a surprise they are cousins. Both are black of heart,” said Aisling.

  They sat for hours. They would talk, fall asleep, and talk again, trying to do anything to keep their minds from going mad in the blackness. Another muffled sound came from outside the door and Rosalia rose. “Aisling, did ye hear that?”

&n
bsp; “Aye! ’Tis the raven with my Teàrlach,” she said, rising and shuffling her feet toward the door.

  “I brought some food and a wine sack for ye. ’Tisnae much, but it was all I could gather,” said the woman. “I am handing ye the food.”

  Rosalia fumbled her way to find the food and pulled it through the bars. “Ye have our thanks.”

  “Where is my son?” asked Aisling.

  “He is above stairs, my lady. I will try to bring him to ye late this eve, but he is well,” the woman assured.

  “If what ye speak is true, ye have my sincere thanks… er, I am nae sure what to call ye.”

  The woman paused. “Ye can call me Liadain, but donna share this with the laird lest I willnae be able to move about freely.”

  “We willnae speak of it,” said Aisling quickly.

  “Liadain, how did ye come to be with the Campbell?” asked Rosalia, wanting to put all of the pieces together.

  “I have spoken too freely already. I must take my leave.”

  “Nay. Please donna. I am sorry for my questions. Ye seem kind of heart, and I donna understand why ye are here, ’tis all,” Rosalia explained further.

  Liadain sighed. “Some days I wonder that as well. I will try to return this eve with your son.”

  “Ye have my thanks, Liadain,” Aisling choked out. They both stood at the door and waited until they heard her exit through the passage. “Och, Rosalia. I pray my Teàrlach is well. I need to hold him and feel that he is unhurt. Waiting is misery in itself.”

  “I know, Aisling. I think Liadain speaks the truth. Let us hope she brings Teàrlach this eve so we know he is well.”

  They continued to sit. Once they realized their backs suffered, they took turns as one of them would lay their head down on the other. The food and drink Liadain had brought was gone hours ago.

  Finally a shuffling sound made Rosalia spring to her feet. “I think Liadain is here.”

  “Liadain?” asked Aisling, making her way to the door.

  “Aye. Your son sleeps and I donna want to wake him for fear of the guards. I will place his head near the bars so ye can feel him. There. Reach through the bars and feel your son.”