by Mary Wine
The thought of blood being spilled sickened her.
She reached up and ran her fingers over her cheek. Maybe she was thinner; she wasn’t sure. Well, she would have to begin eating more. She’d never see the outside of Strome tower if Kagan continued to suspect that Quinton might want her back.
But do ye still want to go to serve the queen?
Deirdre didn’t care for how much she disliked that idea. She had risked everything for it, and now, she dreaded it. She shook off the feeling and forced herself to recall that honor was a thing easily preserved.
She’d made her choice, and she would be content.
***
Summer grew warmer, and still Kagan held her inside his fortress. They had more visitors, and one morning, Deirdre arose to find the kitchens in a frenzy. Wagons were hauling fresh meat and other stores up into the yard, while the cook shouted at her staff. Maids scurried to please her, but she only continued to snap her fingers and call out more orders.
“What goes on here?” Deirdre asked Peg.
“Archibald Douglas, the lieutenant general himself, was sighted on the road. He sent a missive up to the laird that he’s going to be joining us for supper. The cook is running mad with preparations for it.”
The smell of roasting pork floated through the hall, and Deirdre suddenly gagged. She clamped a hand over her mouth and ran toward the garderobe. Her belly heaved, refusing to be quieted until every bit of food she’d eaten was lost.
“Ye don’t care for roasted pork? Pity that, it will be a fine treat, I’m thinking,” Peg informed her when she returned. “Still, there will be plenty of other things to enjoy. But I fear we’ll have to suffer this day first.”
The hours flew too quickly and yet not fast enough, for Deirdre watched for the approach of the promised visitors with eager anticipation. She fought to conceal her growing excitement but couldn’t help but smile as she thought about how many people would be moving in and out of the gate.
It was the opportunity that she had longed for. The waiting felt impossible to bear now that she could feel an end nearing. The sun seemed frozen in position for hours at a time. At last the bells began to ring, and she ran up the stairs of the tower to look out the windows with the other Hay women.
Archibald, Earl of Douglas, seemed to enjoy making a large impression. His men held long pikes with banners flying the earl’s colors. The sound of trumpets and drums floated to her as he rode closer.
She had to resist the urge to laugh, for Quinton would have been in the yard before anyone heard him coming. That was the way of a Highlander. They masked their movements, blending into the pace of life around them so they might be more effective in defending their land.
For all that Archibald Douglas was also a Highlander, it was obvious he preferred the ways of court.
Kagan greeted the earl in the yard while servants hurried to bring a huge chair into the hall. Deirdre descended to the kitchen with the rest of the maids to discover the earl’s men poking their fingers into everything the kitchen staff had labored so hard to produce throughout the day. The earl’s men broke pieces of pastry off pies and tasted them, ruining the delicate shapes that were constructed to please the eye before the food was tasted.
They sniffed and licked and chewed mouthfuls of stews and sauces while armed retainers stood watching suspiciously. Every maid was lined up against the wall while the earl’s men ran through the kitchen, and the cook began to cry.
At last, the oldest man among them grunted. “I am satisfied, no poison,” he announced and turned to walk away, leaving them the task of salvaging the feast for his master. Deirdre began to carry plates of fresh fruits out to the banquet tables with the other girls, but she ran into two of Kagan’s retainers.
“The laird says ye’re to come with us.”
“I’ve been given a task to do.” She brushed around them, the sight of the people streaming in and out of the hall beckoning to her.
But the retainers followed her. One reached out and hooked her upper arm the moment she sat her platter down.
“Do nae be making a fuss. Being Chattan’s daughter will nae gain ye any favor with me.”
“Unhand me. I’ve work to do. Ask the cook. She needs all of us now,” Deirdre insisted.
“She’ll make do with the good Hay lasses. Ye are to be locked abovestairs so that ye do nae slip past the gate during the upheaval of the earl’s visit.” The retainer began to pull her across the stone floor toward a side doorway. “That is what me laird says, so it will be so.”
“What is amiss there?”
The hall fell silent. The retainer pulling on her froze as everyone turned to look at them.
“Can’t yer men wait until after supper to toss the skirts of yer serving lasses?”
Kagan tried to reply, but Deirdre snarled, her temper gaining the upper hand.
“Take yer hands off me.” She grabbed a plate off the table and used it as a club against the man holding her arm. He released her with a growl.
“Chattan bitch,” he cursed as he raised his hand to slap her.
“Hold!”
The Earl of Douglas’s voice bounced off the walls, and the retainer lowered his hand. Deirdre felt tension tighten along her shoulders as Archibald Douglas stood up and braced his hands on the table in front of him.
“Bring her here.”
Deirdre stepped forward, avoiding the hand the Hay retainer tried to hook around her upper arm once more. She kept her chin level as she moved up the center aisle. Kagan sat next to the earl, a dark look on his face. She refused to lower herself before the man.
The earl narrowed his eyes. “Ye are either foolish or simple to risk offending me, girl.”
“The Douglas have never dealt honestly with me.” Rage edged her words, but there was no fear. If the man wanted to have her hanged, so be it. She’d still spit in his eye and tell him the truth about his kin. Melor Douglas had lied to her and shamed her.
The earl should have taken offense. Instead he began to chuckle. The men sitting beside him all grinned.
“Ye must be Deirdre Chattan,” Archibald Douglas declared. It wasn’t really a question, but Deirdre tossed her head and answered, “I am, and yer nephew is a liar. He broke his word, which he swore on the honor of yer colors. So I will nae lower myself before any man wearing them, because there were men with him when he did it, and no retribution was made to my father. That is nae worthy of me respect, so ye shall no’ have it.”
There was a rumble from the Douglas retainers, but the earl held up his hand, and it ceased.
“Well now. I agree that every man should be upholding the honor of his clan. I’ll be seeing me nephew soon, and he’ll be accounting for that. If the man is going to seduce maidens, he’ll have to do it without dishonoring me colors.”
There were snickers in response, but Deirdre maintained her stance. She stared straight at Douglas, refusing to be broken by his bluntness.
“He was making war against Connor Lindsey through me. Do nae think I’m so naive no’ to know that now. Such knowledge only deepens my disgust.”
The earl frowned, the amusement leaving his eyes. “I might find myself agreeing with ye, except for the fact that Connor Lindsey just used yer sister to take something from me that I treasured. Young Brina used the robes of the church to deceive me men, so I believe that evens out anything I owe yer father for me nephew’s actions.” The earl sat down and contemplated her as a king might. “It seems that Robert Chattan raised daughters who are surprising in their courage. I can only imagine how the church is faring with yer sister serving it. The penitences must be increasing daily.”
Kagan grinned, but Deirdre wasn’t in the mood to savor the compliment. There was something gleaming in the earl’s eyes that made her wary. The man was plotting. He was king in everything but name, ruling through the young James. Except that the king was not with the earl, and that meant something important had drawn him away from wherever the boy was. Archibald Do
uglas wouldn’t risk losing control of the boy for just anything.
“How is His Majesty?”
The earl growled softly, “His Majesty is safely residing in Edinburgh. Something I intend to make sure remains the same. William Crichton is calling his men in, and I’m here to crush him before he threatens the king.”
There was a flurry of whispers behind her. The news of possible fighting wasn’t welcome. Mothers looked at their sons with fear in their eyes, while wives moved closer to their husbands. The men couldn’t show their fear, but she saw more than one man reach down to ruffle his child’s hair in an attempt to stay close to life.
The earl grunted, regaining everyone’s attention.
“Ye are another matter, Deirdre Chattan. Yer sister Brina took something of mine—”
“Connor Lindsey’s sister is a person, no’ a belonging, and she belongs on her father’s land as sure as any child does,” Deirdre interrupted him. Kagan made a slashing motion with his hand, but she refused to heed the warning.
“Highlanders keep the women they steal, and that’s a fact too,” the earl snarled. “Laird Hay, why is she in yer tower?”
“I found her on the road wearing the Earl of Liddell’s arms on her clothing,” Kagan responded.
“So… ye were at Drumdeer.” The earl leaned forward. “What are ye to Quinton Cameron?”
Deirdre fought the urge to look at Kagan. For some reason, the man was keeping silent on the matter of what he’d learned about her. The earl snorted.
“It doesna matter. I’ll find out soon enough.” He snapped his fingers. “Ye are no longer a child, so I can keep ye, Deirdre Chattan, and maybe I’ll solve the problem of me nephew soiling the Douglas honor by having him wed ye. I warned Connor and yer father that they would nae be the only ones making alliances through marriage. Finding ye here is the turn of luck I need to restore balance.”
Horror flooded her. Her throat felt like it was swollen shut. Douglas retainers closed in on her quickly, hooking their hands around her arms and pulling her away. The thought of having Melor for her husband sickened her. She was firmly shut behind a solid door before she recovered enough of her wits to respond.
She cursed, words that should have made her blush, but instead all she felt was a sure sense of their being deserved.
***
The Douglas retainers took her to a small storage room close enough to the hall for her to hear a few scattered notes of music drifting under the door from the feast. The door was a sturdy one, and she heard a bar being lowered into place on the outside to lock her in.
The room itself was small. If she stood in the center, she could touch each wall with her fingertips when her arms were outstretched. That was comforting, because it was dark with the door closed. Some light came in from under the door, but it wasn’t enough to brighten the black corners.
She shivered and hugged her arms close. The hours of the night stretched out in front of her with the promise that they would be long ones. She listened, fearing the unknown and the possibility that there might be rats sharing the space with her.
She’d prefer that to having to wed Melor Douglas.
A soft snort echoed off the close walls. Truly, there was no pain worse than a broken heart, for she had nothing but scorn left in her for the man she had once believed herself in love with. He was a sniveling child who had used his bloodlines to gain what he wanted.
But the Earl of Douglas could wed her to him.
Sickness threatened to turn her stomach at the idea. Instead of Melor’s face, her memory offered up an image of Quinton. Without meaning to, she was comparing the two men and noticing all the reasons why Quinton was superior to Melor.
She shouldn’t.
But she couldn’t seem to stop herself from considering the way Quinton went after what he wanted without dishonesty. Oh, the man had run her to ground, there was no doubt about it, but he had done so without misrepresenting what he wanted. She’d known from the first time he kissed her in her father’s house that Quinton Cameron desired her—in his bed or anywhere else they found themselves consumed by passion. Her face warmed as she recalled just how much she had enjoyed being pressed up against the wall with his body against hers.
But she frowned, because she couldn’t stop the dread from following that memory with the warning that it might be the last time she ever touched Quinton. That turned her cold. Pain slashed its way across her heart.
She ordered herself to stop feeling so deeply.
She’d promised herself that she’d never allow a man to affect her in such a manner again. But her logic had failed her.
Muffled sounds came from outside the door. She couldn’t understand the words, but the tone was one of argument. A moment later the bar lifted, and the door was opened.
“Be quick,” one of the retainers barked.
Peg stood firm in the face of his gruffness. “As I told ye, lad, I’m an old woman, so I cannae understand what yer worry is.”
The retainer looked in at Deirdre. “Ye stay there, or I’ll deny ye the comforts yer friend has brought ye.”
Peg carried a lantern that cast its yellow light into the room. Deirdre stared at the single candle with longing, unable to dismiss just how welcome the light was. She stepped back, and the Douglas retainer grunted approval while he waved Peg through the door. Deirdre bit her lower lip when she realized how shiftily she had given her submission when faced with hardship. Ruth’s words rose from her memory.
There was a hook set into the stone wall, and Peg hung the lantern from it as she muttered.
“This is a storeroom for apples and other autumn-harvest foods. The cook keeps it clean, and it’s mostly empty now. So ye need no’ fear that the rats have been allowed to nest in the corners.”
Two girls followed Peg. One sat a rolled pallet on the floor before she left as quickly as she’d come. Peg snorted.
“There are those who somehow think the earl would care if ye are brought comforts.” She set a basket covered with a cloth on the table before pulling a heavy cloak off her arm. “As if the man is thinking about ye at all while the feast is being laid before him.”
“Out, woman. I said ye could bring the things, no’ stay and chatter,” the retainer said. “I’ve me orders from me laird, and I do nae plan on doing anything less than the duty I’ve been charged with. Out with ye.”
Peg nodded. A small shaft of panic went through her as Deirdre realized she was going to be shut in alone once more. It made the last moments with the older woman quite precious.
“I’m grateful, Peg, for the fact ye thought of my comfort.”
The older woman humphed beneath her breath. “Ye should nae have to be, but yer manners are pleasing.”
The door closed behind her, and the bar lowered into place once again. The lantern was suddenly a dear friend, its light almost cheerful.
Now that there was light, she could see what else the room offered. Along one side, there was a ledge that might be used for storing sacks of autumn apples. At the moment, there was only a single, half-full sack sitting on it from last year’s harvest. There were no windows, because it was built behind the hall. She picked up the pallet and unrolled it on top of the ledge. It was only a coarse sackcloth filled with chaff, but it would certainly be more welcoming than the stone.
She picked up the sack and looked inside. A dozen apples lay at the bottom of it, slightly overripe from the months that had passed since they were picked. She carried them to the table and sat on a stool. The basket held bread and cheese. A small gourd contained water, and there was a slice of the roast pork. She sat the gourd carefully on the table so that the water wouldn’t spill. Tension robbed her of her appetite, but she forced half the meal down.
Who knew what the next few days might offer her?
The music beyond the door played on. Deirdre discovered herself pacing the small confines of the cell until the music ended and the hall grew quiet. She resisted pinching out the candle but final
ly forced herself to lie down. Sleep didn’t come easily, and when it did, she dreamed of Quinton Cameron.
***
“A Highlander keeps the woman he takes.”
The Earl of Douglas lifted one silver eyebrow in response, but Kagan refused to be ignored. Deirdre Chattan appeared in his yard with Douglas retainers tugging her toward a mare.
“The Chattan woman is mine. I found her, and I brought her here. She stays,” he insisted.
“Do nae make me take her from ye by force, Laird Hay.” Archibald Douglas shot him a hard look. “Me men are inside yer fortress, so it will nae be too difficult.”
Kagan growled, and the earl chuckled in response.
“Ye do nae care for that, do ye?”
“Piss on ye,” Kagan snarled. “I’m beginning to understand what fired the lass up so much that she scorned ye there in front of all.”
“Ye think I lack honor like me nephew Melor?”
Kagan didn’t shrink in the face of the earl’s rising fury. “Ye rode through me gates as a guest. Threatening me is a violation of that trust, and taking any woman I consider mine is dishonorable.”
The earl surprised him by nodding. “Ye’re right about that. But ye’re a fool if ye think I have nae heard Quinton Cameron fancies the girl his mistress.”
Kagan stiffened, and the earl grinned.
“That makes it more of a matter between earls,” Archibald continued. “Ye’re also a fool if ye think I am nae keeping me eye on the fact that Robert Chattan has been making alliances that his eldest daughter might further by becoming Quinton Cameron’s mistress.”
“A mistress is no’ a wife. No laird goes to war over his mistress,” Kagan insisted.
The earl shook his head. “Ye do nae know Quinton Cameron very well. I do. The man has pride, more than his share. When that bride of his ran off before the wedding, it cut him deep. He’s never discussed the topic of taking another bride since, nor has he called any of his bed partners his mistress. This Chattan girl is important, and I will no’ be standing by while the Chattan, Lindsey, and Cameron make an alliance that can threaten the Douglas.”
