Page 19 of Strachan (Hostage Brides #2)

Many hours later, Peyton and Father Luggan were deep in a whisky fog before the hearth when Bertha hurried in. Her nose and cheeks were red.

‘Well, aren’t you a picture of frustrated ardour, Laird?’ she sneered at Peyton, holding her hands out to the fire.

‘Woman, how is it that you continually disrespect your laird?’ he said, waving a whisky bottle around.

‘Because I remember when you were nought but a wee lad, filling his braies and wiping snot from his nose. And I always speak my mind.’

‘Aye, you do, and to my detriment,’ he grumbled.

‘Someone has to take you to task. It was wrong what you two did today, forcing that lass into marriage.’

‘There was no forcing,’ said Father Luggan.

‘Nor will there be, on any matter,’ said Peyton, meeting Bertha’s eye.

‘Good. A small mercy for that poor lass. And much good marriage will do you. I just came from Fallstairs.’

Peyton stood in a fury. ‘You should not have gone there alone. Father Luggan had no right to send you.’

‘A woman can find out much more than a man when it comes to servants’ gossip,’ the priest slurred.

Bertha nodded. ‘Aye, ‘twas no hardship for me to pretend to be a matron on her way north to meet her husband, seeking a place to rest awhile. I raised no suspicion, if that is what you are fashing about. And there’s news you’ll need to hear.’

‘What?’

‘I didn’t gain entry to the main hall, only the kitchens, but ‘tis clear we keep a more orderly house than the MacCreadies. Filth everywhere, not much food as I could see, and a pitiful fire. Hardly any servants to speak of save a few ruffians in the yard. Those MacCreadies are badly off. How a bonnie lass like Cecily could have come from such a place is beyond me,’ she said, shaking her head.

‘Never mind the state of the place. What news?’

‘I sat before the fire with a servant woman named Morag. I think she is lonely and despairing, and she had a lot of gossip to get off her chest, and it was an ample one, too. She is not starving, so I am guessing she is stealing food.’

Father Luggan lost patience. ‘Out with it, Bertha.’

‘Old Laird MacCreadie is still there, lost in drink and misery, but the brother, Bran, is nowhere to be found.’

‘Never heard of him,’ said Peyton.

‘That is because he has never amounted to much. Anyway, he’s run off or had his throat slit, most likely. He is a good for nothing and gambles and whores his life away, or so that Morag said. As to the sister, Rowenna, she has been married off.’ Bertha crossed her arms under her bosoms and took a deep breath, ‘Aye, wed to none other than Jasper Glendenning, and the lass was not too happy about it.’

Peyton exchanged glances with the priest. ‘Why would Rowenna MacCreadie marry Jasper Glendenning? And why would he want her when she is penniless?’

‘He took her in payment of a debt and as some kind of revenge for something the worthless brother had done to him,’ said Bertha. ‘And Morag said that Rowenna is as bonnie as anything, can ride and fire a crossbow as well as any man – a spirited lass. The old servant took great pride in her, and it seems Glendenning saw her virtues and took a fancy to the lass.’

‘And you are sure he has married her?’ said Father Luggan.

‘Aye, as good as. They are handfasted for a year. That Morag woman is whining about the lasses. ‘Beautiful Cecily is gone, carried off, and now Rowenna. What is to become of us,’ she said.’

Father Luggan frowned. ‘I thought you said that Jasper Glendenning set his sights on Cecily?’

‘So did I,’ snarled Peyton. ‘It seems my new wife has some explaining to do.’

***

Cecily paced along the bank, staring out at the grey estuary. The soft hiss of water sucking at the shingle did nothing to calm her nerves. She must prepare herself for her wedding night, and no amount of running would save her once the causeway was underwater. Fellscarp would be cut off from the rest of the world. She had no one, nothing. The only surety she had was her new husband. And Peyton’s heart was a stranger to her.

A flock of gulls had taken refuge on the shore from the rising wind, but they suddenly took off in alarm. Peyton was storming down the beach, his dark face twisted with anger.

Cecily braced for a storm, but instead, he rushed up to her and said nothing, just staring into her eyes. She gulped down her fear and said, ‘I am sorry I ran away. I just need to prepare myself for this.’

‘For what?’

‘Marriage,’ she said, for she could not name what he would do to her in bed by any other word.

‘Well, it seems your sister managed it,’ he said quietly.

‘What?’

‘Word has come that she is married.’

‘She can’t be.’

‘Oh, aye, she is, and to Jasper Glendenning.’

‘No. That cannot be.’ Cecily’s stomach flipped, and she staggered as the news hit like a storm surge. Peyton grabbed her and hauled her to him.

‘She married him just days ago. He took her in payment of a debt owed by your brother, Bran, and for some slight against him. What do you know of that?’

‘I know nothing of it. I must get her back,’ cried Cecily

‘And how will you do that? They are wed, well as good as, for they are handfasted for a year. If your sister doesn’t whelp by then, he will send her back to your father.’

‘Whelp? Rowenna is not some piece of livestock to breed from.’

‘She is, to Jasper Glendenning.’

‘As I am to you?’ cried Cecily.

‘Am I trying to breed from you, Cecily? Or am I saving our life?’ snarled Peyton.

Anger and shock made her reckless. ‘You would profit from rescuing me,’ she cried. ‘You want me in your bed. You men are all the same – all lust and bullying and forcing.’

‘Do not flatter yourself, lass.’

An angry silence fell between them, and then Peyton spoke a damning truth. ‘Your sister has married a Glendenning – that means you MacCreadies are no friends of mine.’

‘It is not my fault this has happened.’

He glared at her. ‘Why did you lie and say Glendenning wanted you? Tell me.’

‘I did not lie, and Rowenna can’t have wed him. She hates him.’

‘Well, she has.’

‘Oh, this is awful. It is unbearable.’

Peyton frowned. ‘Are you disappointed that Rowenna has had to take Jasper in marriage or that he hasn’t taken you? Which is it?’

‘I despise that man. I hate that my sister has been forced to have him, and forced she was, for she’d not have him willingly. He will hurt her. He is a brute. It is unbearable.’

‘I would blame your cur of a father,’ said Peyton. ‘If he’d had any love for his daughters, neither of you would have been forced to marry men you despise.’

‘I do not despise you, Peyton.’

‘And how am I supposed to believe that? You shun me. You run from my bed, from your own wedding. You have lied to me since I met you, Cecily. And you are looking at me now with such disgust. How can I think otherwise?’

‘You have it all wrong.’

‘On that, we can agree. I have it all wrong, for I thought you might come to care for me, and now I know that I am just a safe port in a storm.’

‘Safe? Peyton, you imprisoned me, took me from my family and dragged me into your bed. How is that safe?’

He kicked the shingle. ‘I am not an animal like Jasper Glendenning, nor will I ever be. I will not be forcing myself on you again, for I want a woman in my bed, not a spoiled bairn. And if you really think that bedding you is all I want, Cecily, then we are done, woman. Enjoy your lonely bed this night.’

Peyton stormed away. Why was he so touchy when it was she who had received terrible news? His temper was like gunpowder, one spark, and it blew up in her face.

‘Peyton. Forgive me. I did not mean it,’ she cried.

‘Aye, you did,’ he called back, and then he was gone.