Tall, Dark, and Medieval

by Barbara Devlin

  Effie had made it back to her bedchamber just in time before she’d emptied the contents of her stomach into an empty pitcher sitting next to her nightstand. Maggie rushed to her and held her hair back. When Effie came up for air, Maggie noticed tears streaming from her eyes. “Here, come sit down.” The chambermaid motioned for Effie to sit on the bed while she fetched a cloth and water.

  This all had to be an awful nightmare. Conall being locked away in a dungeon accused of murder seemed so surreal, yet she had seen him with her very own eyes, even heard his voice calling out to her in some desperate cry for help. To add to her dismay, her family for the last five years had attack her home? This cannot be true. Tears continued to well up, her heart pounded against her ribcage, and she just knew she was going to fall ill again.

  “Here mistress, take this.” Maggie handed Effie a cold, wet cloth and tied her unruly red curls back away from her face. “Is there anything I can do for ye?”

  Effie shook her head no and hastily grabbed the pitcher. There was nothing anyone could do to ease the hurt and betrayal she felt. It squeezed at her chest as if someone had torn her heart out.

  Why did he do this to her? All the years past, she would have never believed that the man she loved could be so depraved. Finally asking for her hand in marriage, then killing her father and attacking her home as if it were some cruel way of showing his profound love for her. Nay, she did not know that man in the dungeon.

  Weak and emotionally drained, Effie lay down to rest. Why was this happening to her? Why was fate being so cruel again? She was right back at the very same place she’d vowed never to return to. With her father dead, no one was here to protect her and it wouldn’t be long now before Tavish would conjure up some dastardly deed for her to fulfill. Effie sobbed into her pillow, releasing all her fears.

  She should have known better than to run from her past. No matter how far you lead in the race the past always catches up and wins in the end.

  Pulling a fur over Effie’s body, Maggie tucked the top of the fur under her chin. “I’ll leave ye to yer rest.” Maggie began to step away until Effie grabbed her wrist.

  “Please, stay. I dinnae want to be alone.” Effie scooted over, tapping her hand next to her. “Please.” Maggie slipped her shoes off and crawled into bed. Effie cuddled next to her. “When I was a wee girl me ma used to cuddle with me when I was sick.”

  “Aye, mistress—“

  “Please call me Effie.”

  “Aye. There’s nothing like a mother’s love when ye’re sick.”

  “Are ye close wi’ yer ma?” Effie asked.

  “Aye, I visit with her every day when I get a break.”

  Effie smiled, remembering a time when her ma would crawl into bed with her and tell her tales about auld folklore of magical fairies. Or they would talk about the mischievous lads and their stubborn ways. There had always been a lad or two trying to gain her attention and breaking her heart along the way. To cheer her up, her ma knew all the right words to say at the right time. Effie swallowed back the tears; she really needed her ma right now.

  “Me ma died when I was young,” Effie confessed.

  “Me deepest apologies.” Maggie stroked Effie’s hair.

  “’Twas a sad day for all of us. She was beautiful, graceful, and headstrong.” Effie smiled sadly. “I remember a time when I came home filthy dirty from doing me chores. I was so mad at her for making me help the stable hand clean stalls. I stomped up to me room to find me ma waiting for me. She was sad. Me da had betrayed her but she wouldn’t say what had happened.”

  Maggie fell silent, allowing Effie to reminisce.

  “Have ye ever been betrayed before...by someone ye loved?” It was difficult for Effie to comprehend that the man who she thought she knew and loved had deceived her.

  “Effie, sometimes ’tis not the person who has betrayed, but the situation they are in that could verra well be misleading.”

  Effie paused for a moment. Aye, the events that had taken place over the last few days left many questions unanswered. Still having a difficult time believing that Laird Douglas would order such drastic measures in attacking an allied clan, Effie needed to know exactly what had occurred. In addition her heart still wasn’t ready to accept the fact that Conall was a murderer.

  After settling her queasy stomach, she sat up in bed. “Maggie, do ye know much about the attack on the north tower?”

  Maggie sat up. “Nay, I was visiting me ma when it happened. Tavish held a gathering after the attack stating that Clan Douglas was behind the attack and Sir Henry and his garrison came to our aid.”

  Confused, Effie sat at the edge of the bed slipping on her shoes. “Why would the English come to our aid, knowing my father supports King Robert?”

  Maggie shrugged her shoulders. “I’m sorry, but I dinnae know.”

  Something was terribly amiss here. She needed to find Neil, for he would tell her the truth and frankly he was the only one she trusted. “Please excuse me, Maggie. I must leave.”

  “Aye, I must be getting back to work meself.” Maggie smiled.

  With a quick splash of water to her face, Effie patted her face dry and began to leave the bedchamber, then she turned to Maggie and said, “Thank ye for being me friend.”

  Maggie grinned shyly.

  ~~~~~

  Before Effie knew where she was going her feet had led her straight to her father’s solar where he had conducted business. To her surprise the door was left unlocked. Opening it so she could peek in, she realized no one was around.

  She went inside. Her father’s huge wooden desk still stood there, just like she remembered. When she was a wee child, sitting on her father’s lap watching as he was buried in clan business was the highlight of her day. Charters for land needed to be signed, tax figures needed reviewing, and disputes needed to be settled. Not to mention the farmers’ complaints of unhealthy oxen not being able to plow properly.

  But even after a long day’s work as a clan’s chief, Sir Herbert always made time for her. Some of her favorite time spent with her father was when he was teaching her how to read and write. As Effie looked around the solar, she saw a tall bookcase which lined one of the walls, stacked with books of all kinds. As she passed the case, the sun shined in through a small window and reflected off her father’s sword. Moving toward the glare, Effie admired the sword and oak leather-covered Highland targe hung honorably above the hearth. Aye, her father was a great warrior of Scotland and their clan. Now that he was gone, who would take his place, she pondered. Who could possibly lead Clan Maxwell as proudly and honorably as her father had done?

  Voices from outside the solar brought Effie’s attention to the door. Aye, a man’s voice, it was certain. Effie walked to the solar door and placed her ear to it. Two men were talking, but about what she couldn’t quite make out. Their tone was low and their footsteps were heavy. As she listened intently at the door, her body stiffened as one of the voices came clear. Tavish? Of course it was him. How could she not recognize that deep, sinister baritone of his? For the longest time and even now when old wounds would resurface, she could hear him haunting her sleep, calling her a whore.

  Quickly she wondered where she could hide. Taking in all the obvious places to disappear, she made a hasty decision and scurried behind the huge wooden desk and pleaded for the men to walk on by.

  ~~~~~

  “Me sister looked verra bonny this morn, what say ye?” Tavish walled with pride, as he and Sir Henry made their way down the empty corridor to his father’s solar.

  “Indeed, Tavish.”

  Tavish could sense the tension swirling around them. Sir Henry didn’t fully trust him yet, but he would make sure before long that Henry had an ally here in Dumfries.

  “Does me plan not fare ye well?” Tavish questioned.

  “Your plan had better work,” Sir Henry demanded with his deep English timbre.

  “Aye, I have me sister under control.”

  “Need I rem
ind you of our agreement? I’ve ceased my attack on the north tower and allowed your filthy Scotsmen to stay here at Caerlaverock.” Sir Henry paused. “A fool I must be. You know what I want in return for the mercy I’ve showed your people.”

  Tavish stopped short just outside the solar. He placed a firm hand on Henry’s shoulder. “Nay, my lord I need no reminding. Rest assured ye will receive yer wish.”

  Henry looked down at the hand that squeezed his shoulder with disgust as if the mere thought of a Scotsmen touching him made him sick. Shrugging out of Tavish’s grip, the knight continued walking with an authoritative stride.

  Quickly trying to redeem himself, Tavish asked, “Shall we discuss our further plans over a dram?” He opened the door to the solar and motioned for Henry to step in.

  In shock at the mention of her name, Effie bumped her head on the desk from underneath. Oh for the love of saints! She closed her eyes trying to force back a cry of pain. How could she have been so stupid? But then again she wasn’t expecting Tavish and Henry to be talking about her.

  She opened her eyes and her heart began to thump against her breast bone. Tavish’s boots were in plain sight as he walked over to the desk. Panic-stricken, she realized that she had to come up with a plan and fast, for if her brother caught her, he would beat her senseless. Looking down at her clenched hands, she felt the ring that Conall had given her bite into her palm.

  Swiftly, she removed the ring and gathered all the confidence she could muster up before she made herself noticed, for facing Tavish was like meeting the devil himself.

  “Och, there ye are,” Effie announced and stood up from under the desk with the ring in her hand. “Oh!” she cried out in shock as she looked at Tavish and then to Sir Henry. “What are ye up to sneaking up on a lass like that?” With a surprised look on her face, Effie placed her hand on her chest as if she was startled. “I thought to be alone.”

  “Please pardon our intrusion, mistress.” Sir Henry nodded.

  Tavish was silent for a moment, not sure what to believe. “What are ye doing in here, Effie?”

  “I wanted to find a book to read and that’s when me ring slipped off my finger and rolled under the desk. I am lucky to have found it.” Effie was playing her part well and thought just maybe she would escape this situation without a beating.

  “Aye, I see. Well, since ye’re here we have some business to attend to.” Tavish looked over at Henry and nodded his head.

  By the way the two men glanced at each other, Effie knew they were up to mischief and prayed it had nothing to do with her. “Well then I’ll leave ye to yer business. ’Tis nice to see ye again, Sir Henry.” Effie grabbed a book and began to make her exit when Tavish stopped her.

  “Don’t scamper off quite yet, sister. This business concerns ye.”

  “Well, I dinnae understand why. After father’s funeral I’ll be heading back...”

  Effie stopped and realization hit her like a stone to the head; she couldn’t go back home. If the rumors were true, clan Douglas would not welcome her back.

  Tavish paced in front of the hearth with his hand behind his back while Effie stood in front of him motionless. “See Effie, dear sister, once our father is laid to rest, I will be appointed clan chief. And as acting chief me first call of duty is to arrange yer betrothal.”

  Effie took a step back and her heart raced.

  “Ye see, I believe it would suit clan Maxwell verra well to be in good favor with King Edward. Ye will marry Sir Henry of Lancaster to ensure our loyalty to England.”

  Before she could stop herself she blurted out, “Nay, I willnae do it.”

  Tavish advanced on Effie so quickly she didn’t have time to move away. His hands wrapped around her throat and squeezed. “Are ye defying yer chief’s orders?”

  Effie shook her head no, for she couldn’t speak.

  “I know all aboot yer dragon down in the dungeon,” he seethed into her ear. “He will be found guilty of murder and will be punished for his crime. Do ye understand me?”

  Effie frantically grabbed at his hands trying to free herself but it was no use. Her face was turning redder by the second.

  “Ye will do as I say or yer precious dragon will fall to the same fate as William.” Tavish stared deep into her eyes, telling her that what she’d feared had truly happened to William; he had murdered him. Effie could feel her body grow weightless as he squeezed harder.

  Sir Henry had stood by long enough. Aye, he was a killing beast of a knight but one thing he wouldn’t stand for was a man using his hand on a woman. Henry strode up to Tavish and shoved him away from Effie. She fell to the floor, gasping for air.

  Henry grabbed Tavish by the front of his tunic and shoved him up against the wall. “A true man shouldn’t have to lay his hand upon a woman. Heed my words and hear them well, do not lay another hand on your sister again. She’s mine now and I will not have her damaged.” The cold dark stare from Henry was enough to make any man wet himself.

  Henry released Tavish and began to straighten out the man’s rumpled tunic. Tavish tucked his tunic into his plaid and retreated from the solar but couldn’t resist one last scowl in Effie’s direction before he left.

  Sir Henry bent down in front of Effie. “He won’t touch you again, I assure you.”

  Still gasping for air Effie placed her hand on her throat and looked up into the knight’s light brown eyes, and whispered, “Thank ye.”

  Sir Henry cast her one of his handsome grins and helped her up off the floor. “We shall marry soon. I have some business to take care of and will need to return to Northumberland.”

  Her throat burned but she began to protest. “I... will no’ go, nor marry ye.”

  Henry smirked and slightly chuckled as he marveled at the boldness and beauty of the redhead looking up at him. He bent and looked down at her. Taking her head in his hands, he forcefully craned her head back so she had to look up at him. “Mistress, you’ll find that I’m a tolerant man, for the most part.” He stroked her freckled cheek with his thumb. “But I must warn you, when I set my eyes on something I want,” he looked her up and down, “I will not be denied.”

  Effie swallowed hard as she felt the dominance of his authority radiate off of him. He most definitely was a powerful noble knight and it would behoove her to obey his orders, yet this was her life and she would not be told who to marry.

  “Yer an English high born, why would ye want to marry a Scottish lass?”

  “You see, my poppet, I have conquered castle after castle throughout Scotland and have always walked away victorious, yet no matter how many I have seized, the desire for more consumes me.” Henry strode back to the corner table and poured himself another dram. “It’s not until now that I have realized that it’s not the castles, nor the riches that I desire. I desire to conquer a Scottish lass.”

  Effie’s brows furrowed in disbelief. Did she actually hear him right? He only wanted to marry her in order to fulfill some arrogant quest. She fought down the bile rising in her throat as she stood dumbfounded. “Now, I suggest you get some rest and join me for the evening meal.” Henry escorted her out of the solar and helped her to her bedchamber.

  Effie’s world kept spinning. Emotionally she was drawn taut. In less than two days she had found out her father had been murdered by the man she loved and now she was to wed an English man and leave Scotland, her home. Nay, this had to be a nightmare, but when was she going to awaken?

  HIGHLAND STORM

  CHAPTER NINE

  The great hall of clan Maxwell buzzed with constant chatter as several hundred clansmen sat side by side along long wooden tables filled with the night’s feast of lamb, fish, and an array of vegetables. Sir Henry and a few of his elite men resided at the head table in front of the great hall overlooking the clan folk. They were surly, but on their best behavior. The gathering had begun.

  Sitting directly at the head of the table, Tavish grinned and ate his full, proud of this day’s accomplishments. Plans see
med to be going along well. Soon, very soon, he would be clan chief and his sister would marry into one of England’s wealthiest families. Not only would he gain a powerful ally; he would be rid of Effie and secure his future as chief. Dastardly deeds came with a hefty reward.

  Next to Sir Henry, Effie sat picking at her meal. Earlier it had been a difficult task for her and Maggie, trying to find a wide enough ribbon to hide the bruised marks that marred her neck. It was almost impossible. But as luck would have it, they found a dark forest-green ribbon that matched her gown perfectly. Added to that, the fact that she wore her hair down helped hide the marks even more.

  As she moved the carrots around her trencher, she was lost in thought about yesterday’s events. Most of the night had passed by with visions of how she was going to get herself out of this mess. Running away had been a short-lived plan. With the power that Henry and now her brother held, she would have been caught in no time. Moreover, with the uncertainty of her welcome if she returned to Clan Douglas, it seemed as though she was stuck here.

  Effie huffed in defeat as her eyes stayed focused down on the escaping vegetable. The longer she stayed here the more she could feel herself slipping back into that scared defenseless little girl she’d been years ago. This place most definitely was destined to be the cause of her death if she didn’t do something to change her fate.

  Sir Henry noticed Effie’s behavior. “’Tis rude to pick at your food,” he said as he wiped his mouth on a white linen cloth.

  It was apparent that her table manners were not to his liking. She met his scrutinizing glare. “Please forgive me, my laird.” She bit into the carrot spitefully.

  Leaning in close to her so only she could hear him he replied, “Spirited are we? I like that in a woman.” He slipped his hand under the table and placed it on Effie’s thigh. “I will only warn you once, when we’re in public you will be a proper wife of a noble knight. Do you understand me?” He squeezed her leg as Effie nodded her head. “For you will not like the repercussions of your disobedience.” He kissed her softly on the cheek. “I beg of you to not test my patience.”