The Highland Captive

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The Highland Captive Page 6

by Johanna Maas


  Blake closed his eyes as he concentrated on breathing deeply and controlling his rage, stunned by the realization of what must have been her life. Now he realized he had unknowingly taken her from some dark sordid existence with the Macnab. And now, while he was quite thankful he had found Lizbeth and could release her from all her misery, he realized he had simply no idea what he was expected to do with her.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Cait sat with Lizbeth for a long while providing her the silent comfort she had obviously been craving. Beyond the words she had spoken upon entering the chamber, she had said no more and had simply allowed the tears to flow. And Cait would never press her.

  Into the darkening evening and when the tears finally began to subside, Cait provided a sleeping dress for her and assisted her out of her well traveled gown. She ensured Lizbeth ate a small portion of food that was on the tray and only considered leaving her chamber when she was in the bed and finally fast asleep.

  Long minutes after Lizbeth's breathing turned deep and even, Cait stood and watched the slight woman with sadness. With a distressing sigh, she finally moved silently from Lizbeth's room, ensuring the fire was large in the hearth and a tiny taper was lit upon the wall in case she stirred during the night. Cait did not wish for her to awaken to the darkness and have cause for any further fear.

  Cait entered the great hall and moved directly to the head table to where her father and two brothers sat.

  "Who is this poor woman?"

  Blake said sadly, "I truly have no idea. As I was telling father, we raided the castle as the Macnab were absent, looting and marking the great hall as was our plan. I then went above to the upper chambers and found one room unlike the rest, for it was locked. I knocked down the door to see what the Macnab could possibly be hiding inside…"

  Blake looked back to his father and to his sister as he continued. "I found her there and all alone. I asked her name and all she replied with was simply 'Lizbeth'. She did not offer any more of an explanation as to who she was or from where she had come. I asked her if she was a Macnab and she simply replied she was intended for the eldest, Garret and was to be wed soon. I also asked her if she was being held against her will and to that she did not reply. She would not respond, but by the look of fear upon her face…"

  Blake gazed over at his brother, hoping he would speak in his defense and corroborate his story, but he said nothing.

  So Blake continued. "I asked her to come with me and she did not argue nor resist. She simply followed me out of the door and onto my horse without question."

  The Laird Campbell looked to his son Lucas, wanting confirmation or any more clarification to the story. All Lucas could do was sadly nod and concur with all that his brother had said.

  Blake continued, "She never really spoke the whole of the way home. I asked, believe me I tried to engage her in conversation. She just chose not to speak nor to answer any of my questions. I know no more of her than you do. And I just did not have the heart to press her further for the sadness and the fear always present within her eyes..."

  They all stared knowingly at Blake, each lost in their own thoughts as they tried to reason and understand the secrets and mystery surrounding her.

  It was the great laird who spoke with a skepticism in his eye. His years of being a hardened chieftain continually controlled his thoughts.

  "We must be very wary with this unknown Highland lass until we can ascertain her true heart. For until her alliances have been truly revealed, this one could be placing us all in danger."

  Blake stared back at his father with doubt but showed no emotion upon his face. He would not argue his father's thoughts for he understood his laird all too well. In Blake's mind, it was clear he had no true understanding of the one who now slept in the rooms above. But he kept silent for there was no telling him and no swaying of his mind. If he had attempted, his father would become angry and his words would just fall upon unyielding ears. Ever since his mother had been taken from their family, that was the way of it always.

  *****

  Lizbeth woke to the morning light and became immediately aware of her surroundings with a start. She sat up in bed and gazed around as she attempted to gain her bearings and her remembrances of how she had come to this end. She looked towards the single window upon the wall and noticed the sun was entirely up in the sky. The light was filtering in brilliantly and upon the wall. The small tapers had been extinguished and the hearth had long since grown cold as she felt the cool and refreshing air within her lungs.

  She looked quietly at the room around her. The large bed which Lizbeth still sat within had white and heavily embroidered linens as a darkened wood beautifully adorned its four large posters. A sizeable wardrobe stood in the corner of the chamber opposite the door with a matching trunk at the end of the bed. The unfinished tray of food from last evening still sat upon the side table near the door. Two chairs flanked the hearth, one of which held her worn and clearly dust filled gown and the other a slight pillow.

  She wrapped a covering around her chilled body as she moved from the massive bed and over in the direction of the wardrobe. Lizbeth grasped the large and single handle adorning its front and pulled, surprisingly viewing a variety of colorful dresses hanging within. She reached up tentatively, touching the softness of the material and looked over her shoulder sadly to her worn and tattered gown lying pitifully across the chair.

  She pulled a lovely light pink dress down and held it before her. It was the most beautiful one she had ever seen and nothing like she had ever recently owned. Its soft material and ivory lace trim felt smooth under her light touch as she held the gown tightly to her front. She closed her eyes for a moment, imagining how the softness and light material might feel upon her body with its glorious and flowing cloth caressing her form. Her own dresses while practical enough, were never of this quality and never sported such vast material nor intricate stitchings.

  She stood for long moments running her fingers lightly over the vast expanse of the skirting. She felt the softness of the material and wished she could own something such as this. Lizbeth was lost in her thoughts as the simple pleasure of this gown warmed her. She heard a slight knock upon the door and she gasped as she hastily tried to return the gown to its rightful place within the wardrobe before she could be discovered.

  Cait peered around the door as she saw the panic flash across Lizbeth's face while holding the gown in front of her. With sadness, she watched as Lizbeth attempted to quickly replace it from where it had previously hung.

  Cait immediately stepped forward and into the room as she spoke, "Lizbeth, please, do try it on."

  Lizbeth looked guardedly over her shoulder at this one called Cait who had entered her chamber. She stared at her hesitantly, not knowing if she could trust what she had just heard. But the soft smile upon the red haired beauty made Lizbeth's own heart warm for sincerity was reflected upon her face.

  Lizbeth released her breath slowly she had unknowingly held as she smiled softly and brought the gown back out of the wardrobe. Within minutes and after she had hurriedly shed her night clothes, she was feeling the softness of the vast material as it clung to her body.

  She ran her fingers hesitantly down over the bodice and across the snug waist as she felt of the expanse of the skirting below. She twisted side to side and smiled as the generous material flowed enticingly around her legs while barely touching the floor below. She felt truly beautiful for the first time in her life knowing the gown had made her so.

  Cait watched as Lizbeth donned one of her mother's gowns. She could see her face clearly exuded a sense of happiness for the simple pleasure of it. Cait felt a joy spread within her for she understood she had at least for the moment taken the sadness and fear away from her face. She was also gladdened for these gowns had hung within this wardrobe untouched these last few years now that her mother was gone.

  Cait moved over to the trunk at the end of the bed and took a brush from its top as she beg
an to methodically bring it through Lizbeth's hair. Bit by bit she worked out the tangles, bringing the long light tresses to a beautiful glow of luxurious waves. When she was prepared, Cait took both of Lizbeth's hands within her own as she gazed at the lovely maiden before her.

  Cait turned slightly, taking Lizbeth's hand within her own and started for the doorway speaking softly as she went, "Let us retire down to the great hall. There, we can find some refreshments for the nooning hour is quite upon us."

  Lizbeth gazed at her shyly with a slight smile upon her lips as she inarguably moved along with her. For the first time in a very long time, she felt a sense of peace and calmness about her. It was a feeling of contentment for the kindness she had been shown by this dear woman. It was a welcomed feeling for this was proving to be a small interruption from the constant fear that had always been within her life.

  And Lizbeth was truly thankful for the undeniable reprieve of it.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  It was midday and Blake had entered the keep's front doors not only hoping to appease his large appetite but eager to catch a glimpse of the beauty he had brought home the previous evening. Her reactions pressed heavily within him and he was concerned for her welfare. Lizbeth had been so forlorn when he last saw her and he wanted for nothing more than to relieve her of her fears.

  As he stood upon the landing inside of the doors, he noticed movement near the top of the stairs and glanced towards the family quarters above. He could only stare as his breath caught within his throat. For she was there.

  Lizbeth was wearing a gown of light pink. The material was shimmering in the light of the room and caused her skin to take on a delightful glow around it. It had a deep neckline that enticingly exposed the tops of her breasts as the material gently hugged her very slim waist. Her lightly colored hair had been brushed and it drifted prettily around her lovely face where it fell enticingly down her back. He could see her large indigo eyes as they eagerly scanned the hall below and his heartbeat quickened for she captivated him so.

  Lizbeth moved her eyes across the nearly barren hall and over to the landing by the massive doors leading to the courtyard below. He was there. Her powerful warrior stood tall and gazing directly at her with a strange look in his eyes as his mouth was slightly gaping open. A sudden warmth filled her body as a blush rose upon her cheeks for his obvious appraisal of her.

  "Blake!"

  Lizbeth realized Cait had noticed his presence upon the stairs and had called out his name. And now Lizbeth also knew that…for it was Blake. 'What a noble and strong name…what a fitting name,' she thought to herself a she continued to look at the Highland warrior standing across the chamber from her.

  Blake was brought away from his heated appraisal of the exquisite woman when Cait cried his name across the hall. He moved forward and down the slight set of stairs extending from the entryway where he met the women within. Together they moved to the family table near the massive hearth.

  The three sat together with Cait in the middle as the nooning meal was presented before them within the nearly deserted hall. It was Cait who carried the conversation, cheerfully making light dialogue as she spoke of the keep and of the grounds and the state of the weather.

  During one of the infrequent silences, Lizbeth looked up at Cait and asked meekly, "May I inquire as to which clan you belong?"

  Cait's eyes opened wide as she presented her brother with an astonished stare. She had assumed he had disclosed that from almost the moment they had met.

  "I would have assumed my brother would have already relayed that very important piece of information to you. For as you must know in the Highlands, clans are important and clans are everything."

  Cait turned slightly to give a troubled look in her brother's direction as he guiltily stared back at her.

  "We are of the clan Campbell."

  Lizbeth stared blankly back at the two for she had never heard of the clan name and knew nothing of their family or of their history. But that did not surprise her for in her solitary life she only knew of the clan to whom she had been sired and the clan she had been with these last seven years. Other than the name Sutherland, she had not been privy to too many others except those names she had chance to overhear in the great hall of the Macnab. And to her recollection, Campbell had not been one of them.

  Cait gazed back at the petite woman sitting beside her and asked boldly as she took the opportunity to inquire, "And what clan do you hail from?"

  Lizbeth gazed at the two of them with a fear in her heart. While she knew they had been kind to her and appeared to be treating her as one of their own, the threats of the Macnab played heavily upon her heart. She was still unsure of her family's fate and completely unaware of the Campbell clan's true alliances. Lizbeth only knew of her duty. So she spoke as she had been trained over the last seven years as her fears played heavily upon her mind.

  "I come from the clan Sutherland."

  A long silence ensued for she said no more and offered further explanation.

  Blake immediately felt the uncomfortable pause and understood her silence. Sadly he conceded he had experienced it much over the previous days they had been together. He knew she would not expand upon her answer, so he decided to speak next in an attempt to lighten the conversation and take away the awkward moment.

  He looked over at Cait and sincerely asked, "And what would you two be up to this fine afternoon? For the day is quite fair now that the rains of this morn have entirely abandoned us."

  Cait responded, "We had not yet decided." She turned to look at Lizbeth and asked warmly, "If you could spend the afternoon doing whatever your heart desired, what would you choose?"

  Lizbeth replied with no pretense for there was but one destination upon her mind. A slight twinkle came to her eye as a small smile washed across her face. "The stables. I would go to the stables."

  A sudden fear for her quick response flooded through her as she moved her gaze quickly to the eyes of Cait and Blake for they both showed a surprised looked upon their faces. So she hurriedly rushed on, "but I would be most happy to do whatever you command."

  Blake looked startled at her response then softened as he spoke, "Then the stables it is."

  Lizbeth looked back at the Highland warrior with a true surprise in her voice as she said, "Really? You will allow me to go to the stables?"

  It was Cait who spoke next with a firmness in her voice. "Yes, Lizbeth, for you are our guest here and you are welcome to go anywhere your heart desires. And I am sure my brother would be most happy to provide you with guidance for those beasts are his pride and joy."

  A small and reserved smile crossed Lizbeth's face for the knowing that he shared her love of horses, too. Without warning, a memory flashed through her mind of her own brother Macay who had also shared this passion with her. She pictured his kind loving face and the times they spent together. Lizbeth remembered sweetly how she sat upon her brother's shoulder as he instructed her. With a warmth for all she had previously known, she remembered kindly how he had tutored her in the animal's care and explained to her what made each one special.

  Just a very short time later, Lizbeth found herself within the stable walls alone with the Highlander. She gazed eagerly about while she admired the horseflesh and felt excitement for this simple pleasure. She began cautiously moving down the center of the path separating the stalls while feeling the cool dirt floor beneath her feet. She breathed deeply and smelt of the sweet hay and the other telling aromas emanating from the horses.

  She gazed longingly at the great stallions and mares in their stalls while studying them intently as she absorbed each detail. She found herself ascertaining each of the beast's strengths and their weaknesses as the long ago teachings of her brother welled up within her mind. With each passing step, she felt a renewed sense of independence and the frozen heart that had been her frequent companion these last years, began to slowly melt away.

  Lizbeth gazed over her shoulder at Blake who was
watching her carefully and followed her ever so close as they made their way down the pathway. She looked into his eyes and then pointed towards one of the large and noble gray mares. This one had immediately caught her eye for she understood this magnificent beast was special.

  Lizbeth inquired quietly, "May I?"

  Blake gazed at Lizbeth, approving of her choice knowing she had a good eye for horseflesh. He simply nodded his head and provided her the permission she needed to step forward and into the stall.

  She moved cautiously forward as to not frighten the animal. As she approached, Lizbeth reached up tentatively to feel of the beast, her slight fingers lovingly touching the warm coat as a pleasure filled her heart. She moved forward gaining more confidence as she gently rubbed the great mare's neck while speaking quietly and softly to the animal.

  The mare turned her head and nuzzled her gently while providing the whole of her nose for inspection. Lizbeth leaned in and rested herself upon the horse as she closed her eyes and scratched the underside of the muzzle. She was reveling in this cherished moment for the memories and the joy of being within the stables was quite overwhelming.

  Lizbeth did not realize her emotions were beginning to consume her as her eyes filled with unshed tears. The sweet memories of an earlier time and place had unknowingly risen. As she gently stroked the mare, they spilled over and began their leisurely descent down her ivory cheeks as the pleasure of the mood consumed her. She nuzzled the horse closer still while her heart burst with a joy she had never remembered knowing. It was a pleasure she had not had the chance to feel for a goodly number of years.

  Blake stood behind Lizbeth as she moved near the mare. He remained close by her side for he wanted only to make sure the beast did not spook nor bring her any harm. It suddenly became clear to him that whenever she was near, he had an overwhelming desire to protect her.

 

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