Page 22 of Kidnapped by her Highland Enemy
A tense silence filled the alcove, and Maisie heard the faint rasp of her breathing above the thundering of her own heart.
They had come so far, been through so much, and now, they had a chance to put this blood feud behind them, so she could have the chance to be with Lucas.
The priest was silent, allowing the two lairds to glare poisoned threats at each other.
“Faither,” Lucas stared. “This feud began ages ago when a Dunn laird stole the wife of my great, great grandfaither and from then, it has spiraled into constant battles and skirmishes and death on both sides.”
Angus stood, slapping his hands on the table, his eyes blazing. “He did not. Who told you such lies? The lass ran to us for protection, kenning, rightfully so, that yer grandsire would have abused her and slit her throat. That is the truth.”
Trembling with worry, Maisie sat as tense as a bowstring, waiting for Laird Barclay to respond and respond he did.
“Utter nonsense,” Cinead snapped. “Yer feckless sire is the criminal here, not mine, kidnapping the lass. It’s common knowledge.”
“Wrong, but yer son is nay any better,” her faither sneered, “He took me daughter while she was bathing. Bathing , Barclay, if that isnae the sign of a baseborn runt then what is?”
“Stop this,” Maisie finally said, her tone hard enough that it drew the attention of both older men. “This foolish feud over rumors is the reason why this blackguard who is targeting both of our clans will win.”
From inside a fold of her pleated tartan dress, Maisie took out the crumpled letter that Lucas had given her days before. “This man is counting on us to keep hating each other that we will kill ourselves.”
“May I see that, me lady?” the priest asked and Maisie gladly slid it over.
Then she looked at her father, “Did ye nae get a letter like this as well?”
Her father’s jaw spasmed. “I did, but I kent it was a ploy from Barclay to trick us.”
“Look beyond the notes an’ allegation that one from our camp is going to kill the other. It’s a lie, it’s all a lie and misdirection,” Lucas said stiffly. “Someone is doin’ this to breed more hatred between our people.” His gaze, dark with hurt, met Maisie’s. “And they have succeeded well.”
“And Laird Dunn, ye’ve received a similar letter?” the priest asked.
“Aye, I have,” Angus’s face soured with the admission.
“It’s true,” the priest said. “This is a treacherous plot to undermine both of yer noble houses. Which common enemy do ye have amongst ye?”
“That list is a furlong an’ a mile long,” her faither grumbled.
Sucking in a breath, Maisie said, “Lucas took me because he reasoned that if the threat were true, having me with him might have given the assassin reason to pause. It happens that when me faither got the same threat, it became clear that I could have been in danger as well. He might have saved me life.”
Maisie dared to give Lucas a quick look, her expression warm and filled with gratefulness—except it was not quick enough. The sound that left her father was a cross between a horrified gasp and a furious snarl.
“Barclay!” he shouted. “Ye’ve bewitched me daughter!”
“He did nay such thing, Faither,” Maisie said. “But we need to attend to this matter now. Now that we ken someone is trying to destroy us, shall we please put aside old grudges an’ work as one?”
“The lady is right,” the priest said calmly.
“In light of a greater foe, I pray that ye leave the past in the past. I do understand that honor and pride will drive ye, but both arenae worth it if yer loved ones are made to pay the price. Peace had nay cost but war does. Band together and find who is threatening ye and oust him out of yer lives, then, please, let the love these two have for each other be the bond to join a fractured thread.”
Silence hung in the air before Cinead said, “For the sake of this new enemy, I take nay umbrage with making peace.”
Maisie looked at her father, whose face was mottled red. “Faither?”
“So be it,” he said, the words sharp and pointed. “But we’ll discuss this connection between ye two at length.”
“If needs be, ye can send for me and I’ll happily draft ye a charter of peace,” the priest said while smiling. “Again, me lairds, leave the past where it is an’ continue with peace.”
At a nearby inn, with tankards of spiced wine before them, Lucas said, “I came here kenning that the king was behind this treachery. We’ve all felt his duplicitous hand before an’ I was sure that he was the source, only to find that we have nay king anymore.”
“I’d have kent the same thing,” Cinead shook his head.
“Of course ye would,” Angus huffed into his drink. “Like faither like son.”
“Faither,” Maisie admonished him quietly. “Please daenae start this again.”
“A lifetime of hatred an’ repulsion doesnae vanish in an hour, Maisie,” Angus said begrudgingly. “But now that we ken someone is out there plotting to kill us, I’ll fixate on that.”
“Dunn,” Lucas rubbed his face. “Tis only right for me to apologize for taking Maisie. In that moment, I had nae kent it made any sense to approach ye about the threat, so I acted instead.”
He looked over to her and smiled. “It was probably the best thing I did.”
Angus slammed his goblet down and glared. “Have ye laid one dirty, stinking—”
“Faither!”
“—hand on me daughter, Barclay?”
“I intend to marry her,” Lucas said plainly. “I want Maisie as me wife. I know I admire her, an’ I ken she’s willing to put herself at risk for those she loves.”
The silence that rang in the air after Lucas statement made her ears ring. Her father’s mouth had dropped, and his face was ash white while Laird Barclay had kept his composure, but his eyes were a tad wide as he pinned his gaze on his son.
Lucas sat back and looked utterly unconcerned, but Maisie saw some tension in his shoulders. “I figured, if a broken marriage contract was the reason this war between us had started, why nae mend it with a fixed one?”
Laird Dunn shook his head, “Ye cannae be serious, boy.”
“I am,” Lucas said, his tone broking no leeway. “I am going to marry Maisie an’ I would like yer blessing with it as well.”
“I’d die before I give ye—”
“Faither,” Maisie stopped him. “Please, stop. We’ve made the promise to have peace between us. Why nay enforce it with a marriage, because I do want to stay with Lucas, despite yer misgivings.”
He huffed and went back to his goblet, muttering dark curses under his breath. She looked to the senior Barclay and asked, “I suppose ye are nay happy about this either, are ye?”
The older man sat back and trailed a finger around the rim of his cup. “I would like to tell ye that I am surprised, but I am nae. I had a feeling something had started between ye two from the moment we saw ye in the castle’s hall. Lucas looked at ye the way I used to look at his maither.”
“Which is a good thing,” Lucas assured her before he drained his goblet. “A very good thing.”
Maisie’s soft sigh went unnoticed by her father and the senior Barclay, but not Lucas. He turned to her and with one look to her face, he seemed to understand her trouble.
“Daenae ye worry, Maisie, we’ll find out who is trying to rip our families apart, I promise,” he said, nearly reaching for her but dropped his hand short. “One way or another, we’ll find this miscreant an’ I am hoping we can muster our combined forces to do so.”
Looking from his father to hers, Lucas added. “It will be much easier if we combine our men on this, nay acting on our own.”
“He’s right,” Cinead said, his tone disgruntled but his words agreeable. “We might have progress on our own, but we stand a better chance united.”
Angus was still disagreeable, and it showed in his face. “But does that have to take a marriage to do so?”
“Faither,” Maisie said calmly. “With or without yer permission I am going to be with Lucas. I wouldnae want it that way, but I would like yer blessings still.”
“Ye cannae just drop this on me an ken I’ll accept it! I’ll need a day or two,” Angus said tersely, then looked at his goblet and added, “and a barrel of wine.”
“When we get home, I’ll start the preparations,” Lucas said. “It might take a few days.”
“Why yer home?” Angus griped. “Our land is better!”
“For heavens sake, Faither,” Maisie sighed. “Please stop protesting at every turn.”
His reply was a grunt and Maisie turned to Lucas, “I suppose that is all we might get. I suggest we take it.”
Three days later, with direct travel to the Barclays’ castle, Maisie gazed up.
There, perched atop a velvet-green hill, with the shadowy mountains behind it, the keep of Barclay Castle loomed above her, its gray stone bulk shimmering with the dying rays of the sun that stained the western skies.
Thick walls ran between the crenelated walls and towers and the entire structure was built up against a huge outcropping of solid stone.
It looked a bit like the castle had grown from the stone itself.
They had been riding through woodland and when the trees drew back, they rode, up the hill and to the lowered drawbridge. A wide, deep moat, full of still, dark water surrounded the castle.
The horses and carriage clip-clopped across the drawbridge, and they passed under the portcullis and the gatehouse, entering the inner ward under the watchful eye of guards above.
The grand doors opened, and men came out, garbed in red leather and kilts and boots—all armed. For a moment, Maisie feared that the men would come against her father, but with one lifted hand from Cinead, the guards retreated.
“Stand down, men,” he said while mounting the steps and into the main hall. “The Dunns come in peace.”
Maisie felt their eyes fly over her and latch unto her father and she twisted to look at him in fear, just as Lucas’s hand rested on her shoulder and turned her back to him.
Dropping his mouth to her ear, he said, “Dinnae ye worry, lass. He’ll be fine.
They will look at him with suspicion for a while, aye, but when me faither tells them about the new arrangement, they will accept it. ”
She turned to him and met complete faith in his eyes and her worry lessened. “I trust ye.”
As they entered the great hall, they walked into the evening meal. The trestle tables were packed, and trenchers of mutton, pheasant, and boar were plentiful, along with many roasted vegetables and fresh fruit while women meandered through the tables with pitchers of wine.
Cinead walked to the head table and mounted the dais, grasping a large goblet and lifting it high, and the hall quieted, every sound dropping to a hush.
“Me good people,” he said strongly. “I have come to announce that Laird Dunn and I have made peace, from now on, there willnae be any more fighting between us as we have a greater enemy to confront. This peace between us is nae only in word, but in action as well. Me son, Lucas is taking Lady Dunn as his bride-to-be, reversing the rift from centuries ago!”
“The engagement feast will be on the morrow’s eve and the wedding will take place in a sennight,” Lucas said, his eyes roaming along the hall.
“And upon me word, this feud will end, none of yer brothers or fathers will die anymore. We will be stronger than ever together than apart! Welcome me wife-to-be, Maisie Hendry into our home!”
A roar went up in the hall and fists thumped on the tables, while men and women stood and clapped. Maisie lifted her head and held it high, unafraid of being in the midst of a clan that she had once thought was her enemy.
Luca’s hand rested on the small of her back, the flat plane of his hand like a burning brand on her skin, and an anchor in a sea of uncertainty. Lucas leaned into her ear, “I ken it’s been a long journey, will ye want to go to me chambers so ye can have a bath and eat in private?”
Relieved that he was not going to force her to stay in the main hall, Maisie subtly nodded, but Lucas saw it. From the corner of her eye, she spotted him give a curious hand gesture to his father who nodded and then, he was steering her from the dais to a door beyond.
“This way,” he said, “It’s about time ye get to ken yer new home.”