A Wee Highland Predicament

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A Wee Highland Predicament Page 7

by Ceci Giltenan


  Nina looked exasperated. “Emily, really.”

  “Ye can’t deny it, Nina.”

  Nina shook her head in exasperation. “That’s enough now. I think we need a change of subject. Ailsa will need some clean clothing. I fear she’d be lost in anything of mine. Do ye have some things ye might loan her?”

  “Oh, aye, of course I do. In fact, I have several things I can’t wear anymore.” She rested her hand on the top of her belly.

  “Excellent. I would greatly appreciate it if ye would gather them and give all but one outfit to Hannah. She can put them in the chamber that’s being prepared. Then bring the other one to the bathing room so Ailsa has something to wear after her bath.”

  “I’d be happy to. I won’t be a trice.” Emily flashed Ailsa a warm smile before rushing out of the kitchen again.

  When she’d gone, Nina smiled, shaking her head. “The truth be told, I wasn’t looking forward to Emily Chattan coming here when she married Robert, but she grows on ye.”

  After eating her fill, having a hot bath, and changing into clean clothes, Ailsa was beginning to feel a bit more hopeful. The Grants were not at all what she expected and she couldn’t help but like both Nina and Emily.

  “Now, Ailsa,” said Nina, “I expect ye’re exhausted after this whole ordeal. I’ll show ye to yer room and ye can have a rest this afternoon.”

  Ailsa supposed the compassionate woman didn’t want to come right out and say, it’s time to lock ye in the tower. The Grant women had been so kind to her, until that moment she’d almost forgotten that she was a captive. But climbing the stairs to the fourth floor of the tower, followed closely by a dour guard was more than enough of a reminder. When she heard the lock click after Nina had left, despair washed over Ailsa again.

  She tried to tell herself she wouldn’t be here long. She was sure Fingal would pay the ransom as soon as possible.

  But how soon was possible?

  She thought about this as she combed and braided her hair. If Laird Grant sent a messenger to Brathanead tomorrow maybe it would only be a day or so before Gillian paid the ransom and another day for Ailsa to travel to Brathanead.

  She might be home in three or four days.

  But what if he sends the message to Brathanead and Gillian can’t arrange for the ransom to be paid without Fingal? Or Laird Grant decides to send the message to Fingal in Edinburgh?

  That would take an additional four or five days. So nine days at most before she was home.

  But what if takes longer than a day for Fingal to get the funds needed?

  That might add a few more days. Fine. It might be a fortnight before she was home.

  But what if Fingal has to return to Brathanead before he can see that the ransom is paid. Or what if he has to raise the money first. Or what if the weather is foul, slowing everything down?

  She sighed. She might be home in three or four days, but it could be a good deal longer. That thought brought on a fresh wave of tears. Ailsa buried her face in her pillow and sobbed until exhaustion overcame her and she slept.

  She woke hours later when her guard knocked on the door and entered.

  “The evening meal is being served. Ye’re to come downstairs with me now.”

  “Aye, just give me a moment to wash my face and freshen up.” She started to walk to the wash stand and he strode across the room, grabbing her by her elbow.

  “I said, ye’re expected downstairs, now.” He led her none too gently towards the door.

  She jerked her elbow out of his grasp. “Ye’re hurting me.”

  He grabbed her elbow again, and bent down until his face was inches from hers. “Ye’re a prisoner and ye’ll do as ye’re told. Do ye understand me?”

  “Aye,” she said, frightened.

  He pulled her towards the door, out of the room and down the stairs.

  It was all she could do to keep from stumbling as they went.

  When they reached the great hall, he continued to drag her past the trestle tables towards the head table where Laird Grant and his family were taking their seats.

  Lucas wasn’t there, but before they reached the table she heard his voice behind them practically bellow, “Archie! What in the hell are ye doing?”

  Her guard stopped and turned to face him.

  “I was told to bring the prisoner to the hall for dinner.”

  Lucas had reached them by this time. “It isn’t necessary to be so rough with her.” He pulled Ailsa’s elbow from Archie’s grip.

  “She’s a MacLennan,” said Archie, sounding genuinely confused.

  “Aye, but she’s also just a lass. We can afford to show her kindness.”

  Archie looked surprised but didn’t argue.

  Lucas gave an irritated huff. “I’ll take her from here.” He put his hand in the small of her back and guided her towards the table. “I’m sorry about that. Did he hurt ye?”

  Ailsa shook her head. “Nay, not really.”

  “I think he saw ye only as a MacLennan prisoner. I’ll make sure no one makes that mistake again.”

  Ailsa’s heart ached. It was small, kind gestures like this that had made her fall in love with him in the first place. But it was all an act. His brother had called him a charming devil and that is all this was—Lucas being charming. He didn’t care a whit about her.

  Before he could guide her into a chair, a squeal erupted from the other side of the room. “Uncle Lucas! Ye’re back.” A lass of about six ran towards him as fast as her legs could carry her. Close on her heels was a younger lass and a lad who was perhaps a little younger still.

  “Isobel, Maisie, Drew, mind yer manners,” called a nursemaid who held two toddlers by the hand.

  But Isobel had thrown all sense of propriety out the window as she hurtled towards her uncle. Lucas went down on one knee and hugged her as she reached him, only to nearly topple over when hit by the force of both Maisie and Drew.

  “Children, ye’re behaving like heathens,” called their nursemaid.

  “’Tis all right, Ida,” said Lucas. “I’ve missed them too.”

  Even the littlest ones stretched their arms out for a hug from their uncle when Ida reached the table with them.

  As the children chatted happily with Lucas, Nina touched Ailsa’s arm. “Are ye feeling a bit better? More rested?”

  Better? Nay. But she had rested. “Aye, thank ye, my lady. Are these all yer children?” Ailsa asked, wanting to change the subject.

  “Good heavens, no. Isobel is our oldest, she just turned six and Maisie is four. The smallest lad is Noah, he’ll be three in a month. The other two are Robert and Emily’s. Drew is five and Flora will also be three next month. Noah is only two days older than Flora. Do ye like children? I believe ye have nieces and nephews too?”

  “Aye. Four nieces and three nephews. The oldest ones are five and the youngest was born in June.” They would have greeted her the same way. Right now, she wanted those hugs more than anything in the world. She blinked and swallowed hard to keep tears at bay.

  “Well, they do love their Uncle Lucas. I’ve always heard it said that dogs and children are the best judges of character.”

  Ailsa frowned. “I’ve heard that too.” I think they’re wrong this time, was on the tip of her tongue but she didn’t say it. There was no point in antagonizing the Grants.

  Chapter 6

  William Grant stood looking out the window of his bedchamber as his wife readied herself for sleep. So lost in thought was he, he hadn’t realized she’d finished and crossed the room to him, until her arms wrapped around him from behind.

  “What are ye brooding about, my love?” she asked.

  “Lucas.”

  She chuckled. “I thought as much.”

  “What am I going to do? We nearly live hand to mouth as it is. I need for him to marry well. A sizable dowry would get us enough ahead to ensure the prosperity of the clan.”

  “I know it would. But did ye really expect him to marry Moira MacNaughton?”<
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  William snorted. “I don’t see why not. He’s not the sort to be satisfied with one woman anyway. He’ll surely keep mistresses on the side. Why does it matter who he marries?”

  “I think ye underestimate him, William.”

  He snorted. “I don’t think so. He’s twenty-six and takes nothing seriously. I suspect he’ll view marriage as a minor inconvenience.”

  “Nay, ye’re wrong. I know he enjoys a good tumble with a willing lass now and then. But honestly, I don’t think he’d continue to do that after marrying. In fact, I think that is exactly why he doesn’t want to get married, or at least hasn’t so far. Even though ye don’t think so, he does have a serious side and he is surprisingly kind. Just look at the way he treats the children. If he were married, I don’t think he would willingly do anything to hurt his wife.”

  William considered her words. He had to admit that as much as Lucas frustrated him, his brother also had very admirable qualities. He was an excellent warrior and yet never arrogant about it. And he was very kind. Even though he enjoyed tupping a willing lass, he hadn’t left a string of brokenhearted maids. He didn’t cajole them into his bed with promises he could never keep.

  William turned to face his wife, taking her in his arms. “Aye, now that I think about it, ye’re probably right. He is a good man, if a bit reckless and hardheaded at times. But the fact is, where he and I are concerned, his first instinct is to take the opposite view on anything. If I said go right, his mission in life would become going left.”

  She laughed. “He’s not that bad.”

  “Ye think not? Ye haven’t known him as long as I have.”

  “Nay, I haven’t. But I know he loves ye, William. I suspect the fact that ye’re his brother, but also became his laird when ye were fourteen and he was only seven, didn’t help yer relationship.”

  “I suppose not. And in fairness, by the time I was eighteen, I had become a bit self-important. I wanted to be the laird more that I wanted to be a good brother. Robert was away training then, so he experienced less of it. But Lucas hadn’t left yet. We had some God-awful rows that usually ended by me pulling rank like the lairdly arse I was. Every time it happened, Lucas begged Uncle Bede to send him away to train. Eventually, Uncle Bede gave up trying to mend the rift between us. When Lucas turned twelve, our uncle sent him to train with Laird MacPherson. Thank God, Bede was eventually able to rein me in a bit before I actually took control of the clan. Still, I suppose it’s too much to expect Lucas would forget all of that.”

  Her brow knitted. “I don’t think childhood hurts are what drive him. He just learned to be his own man and he’s young enough not to back down from that easily. He does want yer approval. After not getting the betrothal ye wanted, he brought Ailsa MacLennan to ye to ransom. If his only goal in life was to irritate ye, he could have taken her to MacLennan land and just let her go.”

  He nodded. “Aye, I suppose ye’re right about that. And the ransom will help for a little while.”

  “Speaking of our wee MacLennan guest, what do ye think of her?”

  Nina smiled. “She’s sweet. And very sad. I haven’t asked, but I suspect she had warm feelings for Lucas—before she found out who he was—and she feels betrayed. Hers may be the first heart he’s broken.”

  William knew that was true. “Oh, I’m certain she had a growing infatuation for him. But oddly enough, I think he was falling for her as well.”

  “What makes ye say that?”

  He shrugged. “Little things. He is uncharacteristically protective of her. In my solar, Lucas became cross with Robert when he snapped at her about something. And then there’s the fact that Lucas couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of her during dinner.”

  “Really? I’ll have to pay more attention.” She chuckled. “At first blush, she wouldn’t seem to be his type. She’s not like any of the women he’s usually attracted to. There’s an innocence about her that I would have thought at best he’d find amusing and at worst he’d disparage.”

  William chuckled. “Aye. But she is very pretty.”

  “Aye, well a bonny lass can turn any man’s head—at least for a moment. But it takes more than that to win someone’s heart. Moira MacNaughton is a prime example.”

  He nodded. “I can’t argue with that. Now I have to start working on another betrothal. Only this time, I won’t count on him to secure it.”

  “Aye, that was probably a mistake.” Her lips turned up in a sly grin. “Perhaps what ye need to do is find a suitable bride that ye think he might be happy with, then forbid him from marrying her. He’d surely handfast with her immediately.”

  William laughed. “No doubt.”

  Chapter 7

  When Lucas retired that evening he expected to fall asleep immediately. The journey had been hard and today had been the worst part of it. He was exhausted. He wanted to sink beneath the covers of his own bed and get a sound night’s sleep.

  But now he lay awake, staring at the canopy, thinking about Ailsa.

  For the last four nights he’d held her in his arms while she slept and he’d liked it.

  Of course he liked it. He always enjoyed sleeping with a woman in his arms. Maybe that’s all he needed now. He could go down to the tavern in the village. He never had trouble finding a willing partner. But the thought of seeking out someone else tonight didn’t stir him in the least. To his utter surprise, the only person he wanted in his arms was Ailsa MacLennan.

  He sighed. How had he fallen for Ailsa MacLennan? He shook his head. Surely, he’d get over it eventually. He had to. She was a MacLennan and as soon as her ransom was paid he’d probably never see her again, much less hold her while she slept. He hadn’t wanted to leave her in William’s solar this afternoon. But it had probably been for the best. The sooner he exorcised her from his thoughts the better.

  Nay, the sad truth was, being separated from her hadn’t helped him stop thinking about her at all. She was on his mind throughout the afternoon. Initially, he’d told himself he was simply concerned about her wellbeing. But the voice deep within him—which always told the painful truth—laughed at that notion. He knew he had no reason whatsoever to be worried about her wellbeing. Nina and Emily would be kind and make her feel as comfortable as possible under the circumstances.

  It wasn’t concern he felt. That little voice knew she was on his mind because he missed her. He missed her sunny disposition. He missed holding her sweetly-curved body on his lap. He even missed her cheerful chatter. She was a bright light when she was happy.

  Again that awful voice spoke up. But she’s not happy now and that’s yer fault. Ye lied to her.

  “I didn’t lie,” he said to the empty room.

  Perhaps not technically, but ye intentionally misled her.

  Again, that voice told him the painful truth. He had intentionally misled her. He’d told himself it was for her safety, so that she would come willingly with him to Castle Grant. She’d have been miserable for a much longer time if he had told her the truth and then had to keep her bound.

  But ye didn’t have to hold her for ransom. Ye could have just taken her home.

  He sighed again. That was another painful truth. He wanted to believe that he was better than the Galbraiths. He hadn’t drugged her and stolen her away.

  But ye took advantage of the fact that they did.

  Damn. He really was as bad as the Galbraiths and it was all out of his hands now.

  His thoughts wandered to dinner. When he’d entered the hall and saw Archie all but dragging her to the table, white hot anger had flared within him. As he reached them and saw the fear in her eyes he wanted to pull the man’s arm from its socket.

  When he’d had the chance to calm down, he realized that most of the guardsmen and men-at-arms in the clan, would only see her as a hated MacLennan and a prisoner. If their hostage was a man, he wouldn’t have cared. After all, intimidating a captive was one way to keep them in line.

  But she was adorable, vivacious Ailsa.
They didn’t need to intimidate her—just being here did that. And they certainly shouldn’t hurt her. Lucas would talk to William about this in the morning. As laird, he needed to be the one to demand she be treated gently.

  With that resolved, perhaps he could get some sleep.

  ~ * ~

  Lucas was up early the next morning. Not surprisingly, he hadn’t slept well. He wanted to speak to William right away. Luckily, his brother was already at the table when Lucas reached the great hall. “Good morning, brother.”

  William looked up. “Good morning. I trust ye slept well after yer rather eventful journey.”

  “Aye, I did,” he lied. “And I’m glad ye brought up my journey because I’d like to talk to ye about something.”

  “What’s concerning ye?”

  “Well…uh…it’s about Ailsa.”

  “Put her out of yer mind, Lucas. Ye don’t need to worry about her anymore. We have her well in hand.”

  “Aye, but that’s just it. She’s being treated like a prisoner.”

  William snorted. “She is a prisoner. Ye were the one who took her captive in the first place.”

  “I know that, but last evening I saw Archie yanking her along by the elbow.”

  “And yer point is? We’ve already established that she’s a prisoner, not to mention a MacLennan.”

  “But she’s also a frightened lass who has never harmed any of us.”

  “She’s still a MacLennan.” He glared at Lucas for a moment before adding, “What do ye want me to do about it?”

  Lucas shook his head in exasperation. “Issue an order that she is to be treated gently, as they would a clanswoman.”

  “Lucas, she isn’t a clanswoman and hatred for the MacLennans runs deep. I saw Archie bring her into the hall. He didn’t seem to be hurting her—not really.”

  “She was terrified.”

  “It never hurts for a captive to be a little afraid. Ye know that. It makes them cautious and less likely to try to bolt.”

 

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