Captured by a Laird (23 page)

“And?”

“He said one of our villages was attacked two nights ago.”

“Their cattle was taken?” David did not like losing cattle to raiders, but they had plenty and could replace what the villagers lost.

“Aye,” Brian said. “He couldn’t tell me who was responsible.”

Brian was not a man easily rattled. The loss of cattle did not explain the distraught look on his face.

“What else?” David asked.

“He said that several of the village men were murdered.” Brian struggled to get the words out. “And some of the lasses may have been raped.”

“God, no!” David clenched his hands in rage.

Stealing cattle was a respected skill, and stealing a lass to wed her, as David had done, was part of their way of life. But raping and killing innocent villagers violated the code.

Which of his enemies had committed this heinous act?

“What village was attacked?” David was anxious to be on his way.

“Eccles.”

That was the village where the lass Brian was courting lived with her grandfather. Brian had been working up the courage to ask for the lass’s hand for months.

“We’ll gather the men and ride to the village at once to lend what help we can,” David said, gripping Brian’s arm. “Then we’ll make whoever did this pay in blood.”

“We both know this was done to provoke ye,” Brian said. “They’ll expect ye to ride to the village in a rage. I’ll wager they’ve laid an ambush along the way.”

“Gather the men,” David said.

CHAPTER 29

“I know your blood is hot, laird, and so is mine,” Brian said. “But we’ve a better chance of slipping past an ambush if we wait until it’s full dark.”

Though David was usually the one with the cool head, he ground his teeth, impatient to act. The harm to the village, however, was already done.

“You’re right. ’Tis better we arrive a couple hours later than not arrive at all,” David said. “Have the men ready to ride as soon as night falls.”

As he turned to leave the hall, his gaze fell on Robbie. His brother would never again beg him to come along, but David could see the desperate hope in his eyes. The other men would come to view his brother as weak if David continued to coddle him.

“Ye can come,” David told him, “but stay close to me and do
exactly
as I say.”

“I will,” Robbie said, eyes shining. “I promise.”

David’s mind was on the attack on the village as he went upstairs. When he opened the bedchamber door, he found Alison dressed for bed in a thin robe with her shining black hair loose about her shoulders.

He had intended to gather his things and immediately return to the hall until he saw her. Before he faced the harshness of the night to come and the horror in the village, he needed to be surrounded by her softness, to breathe in her feminine smell, to lose himself in her sighs, to hear her say his name when he was deep inside her.

She had become his haven in this violent world.

***

When David appeared in the doorway, his face was so shadowed that Alison had to fight against the urge to comfort him.

“I thought ye might be too angry to sleep here tonight,” he said.

“I am still angry.”

She had been too upset to risk a confrontation in front of the household earlier, but she had nothing to gain by refusing to speak to him. Though he had the right to do what he did, she had expected greater consideration from him. He had hurt her badly.

“Having a wife is new to me,” he said. “I did what I thought best. Perhaps I should have let ye have your say before I contracted your daughters to Will and Robbie.”

Perhaps?
“Could I have changed your mind?”

“I’m trying to apologize, Alison.”

“But ye would have done it regardless,” she said, folding her arms. Still, his apology meant something. God knew, Blackadder had never apologized once for his abhorrent behavior, and she suspected it was a rarity for David.

“I care for Beatrix and Margaret,” he said. “I would die before I let any harm come to the wee lassies. Ye must know that.”

She did, but his failure to add that he also had feelings for her was salt in her wound. “Protecting my daughters from harm is not the same as caring for their happiness.”

“They must be safe before they can be happy.” He held out his arms. “Come, lass, let’s put this behind us.”

She longed to take the comfort he offered, but she held back.

“I need to know,” she said, “that you’ll consult me before making any other decisions about my daughters.”

“I will,” he said with no hesitation.

It was a small victory, but it was enough to allow her to step into his arms without sacrificing her pride. Her heart was already lost.

***

An hour later, David lay with Alison in his arms, dreading having to leave her.

It was good that he must go. He needed distance to clear his head. When he was in bed with her, he felt as if he was drowning in lust and desire—and he never wanted to come up for air.

Wanting her was one thing, needing her quite another.

He could not afford weakness. Too many lives depended upon him to act wisely on their behalf and not be ruled by his own needs and desires.

He forced himself to get up, pull on his breeks, and look for his boots.

“You’re leaving?” Alison’s voice behind him was sleepy.

“Aye.”

David stole a glance at her over his shoulder. When he saw her sitting on the edge of the bed with her hair tumbled down, all he wanted to do was climb back under the warm bedclothes with her.

“But it’s late,” she said.

“Aye.” It was nearly full dark— time to leave. He found his chainmail shirt and put it on.

“Where are ye going at this hour?”

He shook his head at her and proceeded to gather his weapons. Though Alison seemed too innocent to scheme against him, it was far too early to trust her.

He had already made one costly error in judgment. By not flogging his brother, he had shown indecision at best, and weakness at worst. He could not help but wonder if that perceived weakness had led to the attack on the village. Though he could not regret releasing his brother from his punishment, he should have foreseen the trouble and dealt with Robbie’s anger earlier. He could not afford another mistake.

“How long will ye be gone?”

“Can’t say,” he said as he slid a dirk inside his boot. Would she not leave it alone?

“Can’t or won’t?”

When he did not answer, she got out of bed, wrapped her robe around herself, and stood between him and the door.

“Why can’t I know?” she asked, folding her arms. “I’m your wife.”

“There’s no need for ye to know.” Even if he’d been certain he could trust her, he would not want to burden her with the tale of raped and murdered villagers.

“No need?” she said. “So ye just came up here to use me and leave?”

Use her? Why in the hell would she say that?

“Does this mean nothing to ye?” she asked, waving her hand toward the bed. “After all that’s passed between us, ye still don’t trust me?”

It meant too much to him.
She
meant too much.

“Ye enjoy what I do in bed,” he said, letting his gaze travel over her body with deliberate meaning.

“Pleasuring me is not enough,” she said. “I could find another man to do that.”

His vision blurred with rage. “Find another man to pleasure ye?”

Instead of backing up in fright as she should have, she rolled her eyes.

“It shouldn’t be difficult,” she said, lifting one delicate shoulder.

She was baiting him! He clenched his hands to keep from shaking her.

“So long as I draw breath, there will never be another man.” His head felt as if it would explode.

“I want a man who respects me,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “In and out of bed.”

“Ye can’t accuse me of failing in that,” he said. “Unlike Blackadder, I insist that every member of my household accord ye the respect due you as my wife and the lady of the castle.”

“Not
every
member of your household,” she said.

“Name one who has failed to respect you, and I’ll have him killed, if that’s your wish,” he said. “Ye know I will.”

“Ye make a great fuss—”

“I am laird and chieftain,” he ground out. “I do not make fusses.”

“Ye fuss about how everyone else must give me respect, but you…” Her cool veneer finally cracked.

“But I what?” he said, standing over her with his hands on his hips.

When she looked up, there were unshed tears in her violet eyes. “But you give me none.”

“Laird,” someone shouted through the door. “The men are ready. Nightfall is upon us.”

***

With David away, Alison felt unsettled as she got into bed. Odd, how quickly she had come to feel safe when he was in the castle. She slept in fits and starts, waking with every rustle of wind outside her window and every creak inside the keep, thinking David had returned.

The chamber was still dark when she was awakened by a light rap on the chamber door.
David is home
. A burst of relief coursed through her before she remembered she was angry with him. The chamber was freezing, so she pulled on a robe as she rushed to unbar the door for him.

When she swung it open, her relief fled, and fear crept up the back of her neck. The torch in the wall sconce outside her door cast an eerie light over the form of a man in a monk’s brown habit. His hood was pulled low, obscuring his face in darkness and making him look like the angel of death. She quickly closed the door most of the way.

“Who are you?” she asked, peeking through the crack. “And how did ye get in?”

“I come from the abbey,” the monk said in a gravelly voice, then paused to glance over his shoulder. “I have a message for ye.”

“A message? From whom?”

“I was told you’d recognize the seal.”

He reached inside his sleeve and handed her a folded parchment of fine quality. As soon as she turned it over, she recognized the seal: a cross superimposed over the flames of the Douglas crest. The message was from her uncle, the bishop, a man of considerable power in the church as well as her clan.

After all this time with no word from her family, why were they finally contacting her now? And why was it the bishop, and not her brothers?

“Does the sender await an answer?” she asked.

“Aye, m’lady,” the monk said, and looked over his shoulder again.

She felt uneasy about letting a man into her bedchamber, but he was a monk and sent by her uncle. Pulling her robe more tightly about her, she motioned for him to come in.

After lighting a candle, she turned her back on the monk to read the letter. She broke the seal and unfolded the stiff parchment.

I await you at the nearby abbey. Come at once with your daughters. Tell no one that I sent for you and avoid disclosing your destination.

Do not fail to follow my instructions. Your life and the lives of your daughters are at stake.

“What say you, m’lady?” the monk asked, interrupting her thoughts.

David had ordered her not to leave the castle in his absence, but what was she to do? She could not refuse the bishop. He issued orders with the authority of both the Church and her clan. And his message warned that her daughters’ lives were at stake. Regardless of David’s wishes, their safety must come first.

Besides, the abbey was so close by—little more than a mile away—that it hardly counted as leaving. She could be there and back before breakfast.

And yet she felt uneasy about going. She did not doubt that the message was from her uncle, but why did he not simply come to the castle to speak with her? Surely he did not fear that David would harm a bishop.

She sighed. Given David’s ruthless reputation, her uncle would be justified in fearing exactly that. She wished he had had told her what he wanted instead of sending a message clearly meant to frighten her. The Douglas inner circle, however, had a long habit of secrecy born of their involvement in rivalries and schemes at the highest levels.

She read the last line of the message again.
The lives of your daughters are at stake.
If David was here, she would not lie to him. No matter her uncle’s instruction, she would tell David why she must go to the abbey.

But David was not here.

CHAPTER 30

Alison narrowed her eyes at the monk. “I don’t believe ye told me how ye got inside the castle.”

“A servant feigned a sudden, grave illness in the night and begged the guards to send a request for help to the abbey,” he said. “As ye know, we’re famed for our healing potions and remedies.”

“Which servant did this?” she asked.

“The prior would not wish me to say, but ye needn’t fret, m’lady,” the monk said with a smirk. “I expect the ill servant will have a miraculous recovery. In fact, the servant was already recovered sufficiently to show me your door.”

She did not like the deceit or her servant doing the prior’s bidding. Apparently she would not get an explanation as to why this ruse was necessary until she spoke with her uncle.

“I’m anxious to see my uncle and return,” she said. “I’ll fetch my daughters.”

“We can’t be seen leaving together, m’lady,” he said. “You’re to wait until daybreak,
just before the guards on the night watch are relieved,
but no longer.”

That would be wiser. Persuading the guards to let her leave at all would be a challenge, but they certainly would not let her go at night.

“I don’t know what I’ll tell the nursemaid,” she said, speaking her thoughts aloud.

“The old woman was given a sleeping potion,” the monk said.

“A potion?” she said, alarm racing through her veins.

“Nothing that will not harm her,” he said. “Now, I must be gone. The household will awaken soon, and the fewer folk who know of my presence, the better.”

Alison felt increasingly uneasy as she paced the floor and watched for the first signs of dawn through the window. The servant who feigned illness, and whoever gave Flora a sleeping potion, had received some sort of message hours before she did. It troubled her that there were spies in the castle, even if they were helping her uncle.