Abducted, Book 8 Page 5

  “Come sit down,” Justin said. “You are not a bother to us. He urged her to sit at the table and poured her a goblet of water. He nodded for both Shaw and Ginnion to carry out his orders and then took a seat at the head of the table. He truly hated being distracted and it didn’t take long for his thoughts to return to finding Paisley

  Blanka did not interrupt the troubled man, sipped her water and waited while Shaw and Ginnion found a bed and had it moved up the stairs. Soon after, Leslie came with an armload of bedding and took Blanka up the first flight of stairs to her rest.

  “Marriage to her would be a good match,” Shaw whispered as soon as Blanka was out of hearing. A connection between our two...”

  Justin stood up and glared. “Then you marry her!”

  “I already have a wife and I fear your sister more than I do you,” said Shaw

  Ginnion couldn’t help but chuckle and soon faced another of Justin’s glares. “He is right, ‘tis time you remarried, the clan needs a mistress and your sons need a mother.”

  “How can you speak of this now? Where is my daughter? Send the lads out again; surely there is gossip by now.”

  “Tis but the second day and this one not yet complete,” Shaw shot back. “We must wait.”

  “Aye, a new day of my daughter’s misery.” Once more Justin sat down at the head of the table and put his head in his hands. “I fear what is happening to her.”

  Shaw went to the table and poured his laird a goblet of wine. “It could be vengeance, who have we upset lately?”

  It was a new thought and Justin immediately perked up. “Who?”

  At almost the same time, Shaw sat on one side of the table while Ginnion took a seat on the other. “No doubt nearly every lad who came to see her,” said Ginnion. “You have not allowed her to be seen in weeks, therefore, it is possible one might have been unduly upset by your denial.”

  “Did any of them seem upset?”

  Shaw rolled his eyes. “All of them seemed upset. They rode long distances to see her and you denied them.”

  “Do you mean I should have put my daughter on display?”

  Ginnion shook his head, “I would not have.”

  “I thought once you denied a few, the rest would stop coming,” said Shaw.

  “So did I.” Ginnion agreed. “It did not work; we Scots are stubborn lads.”

  Justin sipped his wine. Having even the smallest clue to who took her made his eyes brighten considerably. “Who came before Chisholm Graham?”

  For hours, they recalled the clan names and tried to decide which was most annoyed. They were so intent in their discussion, they almost completely ignored Justin’s four sisters, two more husbands, Sawney, who was finally allowed out of bed, and Blanka when she came down to partake in the evening meal. So they would not be bothersome, the younger children were sent to the kitchen to eat.

  Normally a happy chatting family, this night each remained stoic and let the three men at the head of the clan keep talking. But Patches, Justin’s youngest sister, could not hold her thought any longer. “Send a lass to search.”

  “What?” Justin asked.

  Under the table, she took hold of her husband’s hand to prepare for her brother’s wrath if the idea enraged him. “Brother, we have lasses from nearly every clan married into ours. Instead of spying on the clans, send a lass back to see her family and look around. She can discover far more from inside than the lads can from without.”

  “And her husband with her?” Justin asked.

  “Aye, her husband and two others,” Shaw added. “If Paisley is found, she will need protection on the way back.”

  Justin got up, went to his sister and took her hand. Smiling a genuine smile at last, he helped her stand and took her into his arms. “Finally, you have become useful.” Amid the giggles and chuckles of the others, he kissed her forehead and let her sit back down.

  Blanka had not been shy a day in her life, yet she hesitated. Gathering her courage by the time Justin sat back down at the head of the table, she said, “Laird MacGreagor, might I say a word or two?” She waited for Justin’s nod and began, “As you are well aware, there are several clans between your land and ours. My father insisted we stop at each, hoping to find a willing husband for me.”

  As the words left Blanka’s lips, her embarrassment was evident on her face. Still, she forced herself to continue, “Always when my father enters a great hall, lairds are alarmed, yet I recall two who were more so than the others. Laird Gunn’s tremble was so great, I pitied the lad.” She stopped, wondering just how upset Justin would be when she mentioned the other name.

  “Laird Gunn and who else?” he asked, trying to be patient with her.

  Blanka lowered her gaze, “Laird MacAlister.”

  The women in the room gasped. It was the worst name she could have brought up and it was all Justin could do to keep from standing up and beginning to pace. It took a moment to calm himself enough to ask, “What did MacAlister do?”

  “He claimed to be betrothed.”

  Noticing Justin gritted his teeth, Shaw took over the conversation. “Did he say the name of his bride?”

  “Nay, but he did say they were to marry in a week’s time.”

  Ginnion, normally the calmer of the three, questioned her further. “Why did you think that suspicious?”

  “Father demanded to meet her and MacAlister said she had not yet arrived.”

  “When was that?” Ginnion asked.

  Blanka had to think for a moment. “We saw the MacDuff next, then Laird Kennedy and then we came here. So it must have been only two days, perhaps three. Aye, it was two nights and...”

  Ginnion was starting to get as upset as his laird. “Is there more?”

  She took a long breath and let it out. “Though he did not speak, there was a lad with MacAlister. The lad stared at me and slightly shook his head as if to warn me of something. The window coverings were oddly let down for that time of day and it was difficult to see him, but there was also an elder lad in the great hall. He was made to no longer see.”

  “Do you mean someone blinded him?” asked Shaw.

  “Aye, he had horrid scars around his eyes and I had to look away. I was pleased when Father took me out. MacAlister’s castle is a dreadful place. It smells.”

  “MacAlister,” Justin turned to Shaw. “Did MacAlister come to see her?”

  “Nay.”

  “Then we did not offend him. If he took her, he means to marry her.”

  “And then kill her,” Ceanna whispered. Tears were already forming in her eyes when Ginnion put an arm around his wife. “We do not know he has her.”

  “Did Laird Gunn come to see her?” Justin asked.

  Both of Shaw’s eyebrows shot up. “Do you not remember? He had fire in his eyes when you would not let him see her.”

  “Then that is where we must search first,” said Justin.

  “We?” asked Ginnion.

  “Am I to just sit here and wait, while my daughter is being...?” With women in the room and especially women who loved his daughter as much as he, Justin made himself stop. He took a long drink from his goblet and turned his attention once more to Blanka. “Where does MacAlister live?”

  “On the path from here, one would go north and then east. MacAlister lives at the edge of the forest.”

  “Father, you have not eaten,” Leslie pointed out. “You are of no use to Paisley if you do not eat.”

  He nodded and picked up his spoon, but instead of eating, he used it as a pointer. “We leave tomorrow and we will take many warriors with us.”

  “And leave the village unprotected?” Shaw asked. “Such might be exactly what they hope.”

  Everyone waited while Justin took a bite, thought that over, finished chewing and swallowed. ‘Who is witless enough to think he could take our land and our families without a fight?”

  “I do not know,” Shaw answered. “Still, the clans grow in numbers and feeding them becomes more diffi
cult daily. We have very good land.”

  “We have very good warriors too, who would come back and slaughter them. Nay, that is not what we must worry about most. Just in case, I shall take only fifty of our best fighters with me.”

  “Thirty,” Ginnion put in. “Thirty are enough to protect you as well as Paisley when you find her.”

  “Thirty, then.”

  Shaw frowned. “Will you still send the lasses to visit their clans?”

  “Aye, send them tomorrow, but only those from the nearest clans. When they come back, send more,” Justin answered. “We must leave no stone unturned. Shaw, I leave you in command.”

  Those were the words Shaw did not want to hear. Ordinarily, he would not have spoken up but this time he was determined. “Paisley is my niece and I choose to go with you this time. Leave Ginnion in command.”

  “I’ll not have that,” Ginnion protested. “She is my niece too.”

  “And mine,” said Essen, the man who married Justin’s youngest sister, Patches.

  Justin did not expect Carley’s second husband to protest. Before Moan suffered a broken leg that still caused him a great deal of daily pain, he was Justin’s second in command. He might be incapable of fighting as well as he once did, but there was nothing wrong with Moan’s mind and he was one of Justin’s favorite advisors.

  “I am honored,” said Moan before Justin even said it.

  PAISLEY SEARCHED THE bedchamber for a weapon, any sort of weapon and found nothing. The other three bedchambers on the fourth floor of the castle offered none either. “Stupid, stupid lad,” Paisley whispered. “He thinks he is safe and therefore leaves nothing to defend himself with should he be forced up the stairs.”

  Of course, it was possible he removed them just before she arrived. In that case, she suspected he had them somewhere on the third floor. As quietly as she could, she went to the top of the stairs and peeked just far enough around the corner to see down. A guard stood at the bottom and as soon as he looked up, she jutted her head back and held her breath. Certain she was caught, she listened but she heard no footsteps on the stairs and at length, went back to her bedchamber. Seeing what was on the third floor was clearly out of the question.

  Paisley went to the window again, although she kept her scarf on so she would not upset MacAlister any more than necessary. As her courage once more increased, she went back across the hall to look down and see if perhaps that side of the castle was not so high up. It was the same four floors with no soft straw on the ground to fall on, if she decided to jump.

  Another thought occurred to her and once more she went looking, only this time for rope. She could not imagine why anyone would have rope in a bedchamber, but she had come across odder things including kilts belonging to other clans.

  With no success and no new ideas, there was nothing to do but sit on the bed and wait. Wait for what, she wondered. Marriage and death, she supposed. She could never let Rona die to save her from a dreadful marriage and would indeed agree to marry him if she could not escape it. What, she wondered, must a woman do to incite the kind of rage that caused MacAlister to kill her and her daughters? Perhaps he simply hated women...and Paisley happened to be one.

  Her thoughts were not helping and when Rona came back, she was glad for the company. This time she decided to play along. “Clean clothing? Thank you, Rona.”

  Rona carried them to the table and laid a white shirt, a folded plaid that matched her own and a new belt over the back of a chair. “You will wear them? He said you might refuse.”

  Paisley sighed. “I might as well get on with it.” She began to untie her belt but then remembered the door was open. She went to it, peeked out and looked both ways before she closed it and went back to Rona.

  “You have remembered?”

  “Some, perhaps.”

  Rona came closer to look at her bruised chin again. The blue had deepened to black and both sides of her jaw were swollen. “Such a dreadful fall from your horse.” She examined it closer still and wrinkled her brow. “I have never known anyone to land on their chin.”

  Paisley was glad the woman hadn’t tried to touch her bruise. “That part I do not remember.” As soon as her belt was loosened, her pleated MacGreagor plaid fell to the floor. “I had hoped to bathe before I dressed. Have you no loch nearby?”

  “Aye, but it is very cold.”

  “On a hot summer day I would find it refreshing.”

  “The lads would have to go to protect you, and Laird MacAlister would never allow the lads to see you unclothed.”

  “You mean he does not trust them to turn their backs?”

  Rona leaned down, picked up the MacGreagor plaid and began to fold it. “Some he does, others not and with just cause. Before she died, his wife liked letting the lads look.”

  Paisley’s eyes widened. “Oh, I see.” She almost asked if his daughters liked to as well, but it was best to pretend she did not know about his past. “How did his wife die?”

  “He killed her.”

  Rona said it so matter-of-factly it shocked Paisley. “He...”

  “He did not mean to kill her, he meant only to punish her but hit her too hard.” Rona took the green MacGreagor shirt from Paisley and helped her put on the clean white one. Then she handed the new belt to her mistress and was pleased when Paisley smiled.

  “‘Tis very fine workmanship,” Paisley said, taking a moment to study the pattern in the leather. Smiling was painful, but she hoped to make Rona a trusting friend and knew no other way to accomplish it.

  “‘Twas his wife’s belt. Laird MacAlister had it made in particular.”

  Paisley balked and picked her own belt back up. “Then I must not wear it. Besides, my brother made this belt for me.” She saw the worry in Rona’s eyes and thought better of her decision. It was just a belt, after all. “On the other hand, this belt is much finer and if pleases him...”

  “Aye, it will please him greatly, mistress.”

  Paisley put her belt back down on the table, wrapped the other around her waist and began to tie it. “Is the wee laddie his only child?”

  “Save for three daughters. Once he learned of his wife’s deceit, he sent them to the monastery to save their souls.”

  Paisley hid her surprise. “He must be a very good lad, then.” Rona didn’t reply as someone who agreed might have and Paisley noticed. Perhaps there was a smidgen of hope that Rona didn’t like her laird as well as she pretended. Paisley decided to change the subject. “Tell me, how big is this clan?”

  “We are small, but we are growing.”

  “How small, a hundred, two?”

  “Two, perhaps.”

  “That is a very nice size and ‘twill be easier for me to learn their names that way. We have nearly six hundred, very large and very strong warriors.” She noticed Rona’s eyes widen, but turned her attention to pleating the front of the MacAlister plaid. “How long have you been servant here?”

  “I am not a servant, I am his sister-in-law.”

  “I see, then his wife was your sister?”

  “Aye.”

  They were both quiet for a time until she was finally dressed. Rona urged her to sit down, pulled a brush out of her own belt and removed Paisley’s scarf. It reminded Paisley of how Leslie used to brush her hair and suddenly she was homesick beyond measure. “I have a sister too and four brothers. We are MacGreagors, have you heard of us?” She thought she felt Rona’s hands tremble, but just for a moment.

  “Aye, they are fierce warriors.”

  “Indeed they are, yet no finer lads ever lived. In our clan, if a lad hurts a lass out of anger he is put to death.”

  “I have heard that too. The other clans think it very odd.”

  “It has always been so and I find comfort in it. A wife should not have to fear her husband or any other lad. My very own father would do the killing.”

  Rona abruptly stopped brushing and stepped back to see the truth in Paisley’s eyes. “You are Laird MacGreagor
’s daughter?” When Paisley nodded, Rona closed her eyes and crossed herself. She quickly glanced at the door and then leaned close enough to whisper, “He listens.”

  Paisley nodded her understanding. “‘Tis enough brushing for now.” She quickly stood up, wrapped her arms around Rona and whispered in her ear. “He said he would kill you if I deny him.” She felt the woman stiffen and held on until she relaxed a little. When she let go, Paisley was smiling. “Might I have something more to eat? I find I am hungry now that the cool of the evening is certain to be upon us soon.”

  Rona was far from smiling, but she answered anyway. “I shall see to it directly.”

  IF SUCH A THING HAD to happen to Paisley, Justin was glad it was in the summer when the night sky was bright enough to allow time to prepare for the next day’s ride. Nevertheless, all men needed rest and Justin was no exception. Before she went up to bed, Justin remembered to thank Blanka and assign a man to stay with her at all times while he was away. What the MacGreagors did not need was for yet another daughter to be carried off, especially Laird Monro’s daughter. The man he chose to walk with her and turn his back while she bathed was Thomas, one of MacGreagors finest hunters.

  It took time to settle down in his bed and relax, but his exhausted body demanded it and soon Justin was sound asleep.

  LAIRD CHISHOLM GRAHAM was beside himself with worry. As hard as he tried, he could not decide what to do or where to look for Paisley. Waiting for word of her was maddening and the thought of another man touching her made him grit his teeth, so he tried not to think about that. The market goods and tables were put away by the time he finally left his favorite seat on the trunk and went inside.

  TIRED AND BORED, PAISLEY let the cloth down over the window to darken the room and went to bed early, yet she kept her scarf on in case a noise drew her to the window. Her jaw still hurt and she did not like MacAlister’s wine well enough to use it to take away the pain. Chewing was far too painful, but for her evening meal, Rona brought porridge with milk and honey. The oats tasted good, needed little chewing and satisfied her hunger.