Page 30 of Kidnapped by her Highland Enemy

Barclay Castle

A ngus knocked on the chamber where Maisie stayed with Lucas—a fact that he tried his best not to truly think about— and called out, “Maisie, the priest is waiting for ye.”

When no answer came, he knocked again, louder this time. “Maisie?”

Again, she did not reply, and he grew concerned.

Pushing the door, he grew alarmed when the door swung open, and the room held the heavy silence of being empty.

It did not take him long to know that something was wrong—very wrong—and he hurried out the room and down to the wedding chamber where Cinead stood with the priest.

“She’s gone,” he said, prodding both men’s heads to dart up.

Cinead grated, “What?”

Irritated, he replied, “Like I said, me daughter is gone, where is yer son?”

This time, Cinead went grim, “He should have returned hours ago. Let me find Oliver, if something happened to him, Oliver and his men will find out.”

“I’m coming with ye,” Angus said as he turned to the door.

“Nay, ye deanae,” Cinead waved him away. “I will take care of it.”

Batting his hand away Angus said, “I ken ye are the lord of this house, but Maisie is me daughter, if something has happened to yer son, it might have happened to her too. I willnae sit and twiddle me thumbs while ye put in all the work.”

For once, Cinead met Angus’ gaze and held it. He stuck out his hand. “Truce.”

Finally, Angus shook his hand, “Truce.”

They found Oliver striding to them in the courtyard, his face as grim as they had hoped it would not be. “He’s been taken.”

Cinead faced the men, his tone strong and his words authoritative.

“No one leaves this castle from here on, have yer men guard everywhere that leads in and outside this stronghold and then, round up every servant and bring them to the great hall. We’re going to find out who is the traitor in our midst! Do it now!”

The icy bite of ragged stone under her cheek had Maisie cringing and leaning away from it, only to find that she could not go far…or at all. Blinking her eyes open, she found her middle was wrapped with rawhide rope and her feet, stretched out in front of her, was likewise tied.

She was sitting on stone and was tied to a post in a… courtyard? No, it could not be. She looked around and found that she was in a hall? Where was she?

Blinking, she realized something odd, there was a tapestry above her, one with a man slaying a fearsome beast and the Barclay seal on it. Was this another one of Lucas’s family homes then?

A groan had her head snapping to the side and there, she found Lucas similarly bound, but aside from the rope around his middle and tied at his bare ankles, his arms were tied behind the post, and he was wearing a pair of damp trews.

A nasty mottled bruise nearly masked the bloody torn skin on his temple and Maisie began to fear that Lucas was dead. She struggled with her ties, desperate to reach him, but could not, and that pained her more than anything.

“Lucas,” she tried to keep her voice as low but strong. “Lucas, can ye hear me?”

He did not stir, and she tried again, “Lucas?”

The blood on his temple looked dried and she did not see his chest rising at all—now, her heart sunk to the pit of her stomach, convinced that he was dead. Grief welled up inside her, filling her eyes with tears.

“Lucas…” her voice was trembling now. “Please, say somethin’.”

A dry, hateful laugh met her ears and a familiar voice, now tinged with vitriol and disgust said, “Yer wasting yer breath, lass.”

Laird McKenna!

The revelation felt like a slap to her face, hard enough that she reeled back as the Laird, a woman, and two gangly youths came in. The laird knelt, grabbed Lucas’s hair and yanked his head up, looking coldly at a still unconscious Lucas.

“Me men finally dragged ye down from yer lofty position, boy,” he let go of Lucas’s hair and his head flopped back to his chest. “All those years, boastin’ about how unbeatable ye are, how ye were the best warrior in the clan since the last half-century, now, here ye are, at me mercy.”

Maisie barely found her voice, “Is he—is he alive?”

McKenna glanced at her. “For now.”

As he went back to look at Lucas, Maisie asked, “Ye were behind this all? The threats to me clan and Lucas’?”

“Aye,” he laughed. “Truth be told, I never planned that the two of ye would come to any peace much less get married, but even so, it worked better in me favor. Now, I can get ye two just where I need ye.”

Maisie stared at him. “I daenae understand. Ye ate at Cinead’s table, ye stayed in his house, ye celebrated with us and now, ye are willing to kill his son?”

“And ye too,” McKenna replied.

“Why?” Maisie asked. “Were ye nay his friend?”

This time, McKenna straightened, and his eyes were hard.

“Out of necessity, nay because I liked it. How would ye feel if ye were booted out of yer fair share of all the land has to offer only because greedy bastards like yer faither and him—” McKenna jabbed a hand at Lucas, “—decided they had authority to take it all and leave ye with scraps? To force ye to live in the outskirts, in barren rocks with naything to help ye survive while they mine gold and iron, reap wheat, have plenteous fish and deer?”

Clamping her lips tight, Maisie realized that this betrayal had not been a new thing, this plan had been thought on, and refined for years. The marriage between she and Lucas not been expected, but it had managed to give McKenna another way to shatter their clans into fragments.

“So ye bid yer time and waited for the opportune moment,” Maisie said dully.

McKenna looked heavily impressed, “Yer a cannie lass, arenae ye? It’s a shame yer fool of a husband isnae the same.”

“What are ye going to do with us?” Maisie asked, very hesitant.

“Ye will be killed,” McKenna said plainly. “And yer body dumped in his lands and his body thrown in yers. Both clans will go to war and me clan will stay as the remainder to reap all that is left.”

Maisie did not find any words to say and slipped silent, the fear of death now numbing its way through her limbs.

Her gaze rested on Lucas who was still unconscious.

She willed Lucas to wake up but she wondered if that would only spur McKenna to kill them faster.

It seemed to Maisie that McKenna wanted to show Lucas that he had bested them all.

Thinking about the men back at the castle, waiting for them to marry, Maisie prayed that someone would find out what had happened and find them before Lucas woke and McKenna made good on his chilling promise.

Evey servant, from the lowest stable boy to the cooks were lined up in the great hall as Cinead, from the dais, cast his gaze over the hundred and odd of the lot.

Now, while he knew his servants were mostly good people, there had to be a traitor amongst them, and no one was going to leave this hall until he found who it was.

He descended the stairs, with his hand on his sword’s pommel, and walked along them, noting with interest when their eyes dropped to the wicked weapon he still yielded.

“Tis simple,” he said loudly. “If anyone of ye kens or saw who took Lady Maisie step forward now and tell what ye ken, and I will let ye live, or if nay, and I learn that ye are hiding something from me, me blade will be swift.”

No one came forward, but Cinead had expected that. “Find me anyone who saw this traitor or better yet, give up the traitor and ye will all be excused to go back to yer duties, and nay of the innocent will die.”

When none uttered a sound, Angus growled and spat, “Ye dinnae have time for tender mercies, Cinead, take one of them and make an example of them. Me daughter is gone, and I will nay have mercy on anyone who is hiding a thing from me!”

Before Cinead could stop the other man, Angus had grabbed a young man and hauled him to the front. “Ye, what do ye ken? Tell me now!”

The boy’s face was bloodless and he tried to speak but his words were a continuous stammer of frightened nonsense. Angus lifted his dirk—just as someone broke from the ranks and started running.

Angus took off and so did five soldiers, while Oliver grabbed the girl, trapping her hands behind her. She was pale in fright but her eyes glittered dark with hate and Angus had little mercy for her. Lifting the dirk to her throat, he said, “Who is yer master, lass?”

She spat at his feet, “Yer better.”

This time, Cinead took control. “Do ye ken who took Maisie?”

This time she clenched her jaw like a mule and Cinead dropped his voice, “If ye dinnae tell us, ye will be thrown into the torture chambers, subjected to all manner of pain, then when ye think ye cannae take anymore, ye will be drawn and quartered, each limb of yer body pulled right apart, inch by painful inch. Is this dunghill of a master worth losing yer life?”

This time, the girl eyes widened, and she gasped in a breath, then shook her head.

“The offer to save yer life expires when I turn away,” Angus spat, as he sheathed his dirk and gave her an expectant look. When she did not say anything, he turned on his heel only to have her gasp.

“I’ll tell ye, only—only if ye promise nay to send me back to him,” she pleaded. “He will kill me outright.”

“Who is he?” Cinead said, his tone hard and demanding, “And where will we find him and me son?”

The lass’s head dropped to her chest, “Ye willnae like what I have to say, Sir….”

“Tell it to me anyway.”

The family was drinking wine on the dais, while the wife was circling the room, touching the tapestries and the furnishings in the room. Maisie could see pure envy and wicked satisfaction at knowing that soon, all this would be hers.

The sun had dipped, getting slowly past noon, and Maisie guessed that McKenna would only kill them when it was dark.

Shooting a look to Lucas, she prayed he would wake—when she saw his fingers begin to twitch.

Her heart leaped into her chest but she kept her expression still fixed in a worried twist so McKenna and his family would be none the wiser.