Reid followed her in, closed the door and stood leaning against it, his arms folded across his broad chest.
“So,” he said.
“So,” Abi echoed.
There was silence. Reid seemed comfortable with silences as he just watched her steadily with those damned piercing eyes of his. Abi shifted uncomfortably. This man was a thug and her captor. Did he have to be so god-damned good-looking? His white-blond hair, tanned skin, and light blue eyes gave him the look of a surfer, although his broad shoulders and thickly muscled chest were more reminiscent of a rugby player. Of course, all of that was in stark contrast to the swathe of tartan-like material that covered his body and the sword that stuck up over one shoulder.
“I don’t think Malcolm likes me very much,” Abi said.
To her surprise, Reid barked a laugh. “Oh, ye noticed? Dinna let it vex ye, lass. Malcolm doesnae like anyone overmuch—especially witches.”
“I’m no witch!” Abi exploded. “And I’d thank you not to insult me! If you think I’m just going to let—” She trailed off as she realized a faint smile had curled Reid’s lips. Was he...teasing her?
“I know ye are no witch. But ye canna blame Malcolm for thinking so after ye appeared in that cell as if by magic.” He narrowed his eyes. “How did ye get into that cell, anyway? My men swear they didnae see ye enter.”
Abi opened her mouth to speak but then hesitated. How could she tell him when she didn’t even understand it herself?I was out in the open air amongst the ruins then I stepped through an arch and boom! I was in that cell full of dirty, stinking men.
It sounded crazy even to herself. Any crazier than a bunch of men playacting at being some kind of medieval warband?she thought.Tell him. He might be able to figure out what happened.
But something stopped her.
Reid watched her, awaiting her answer. The silence stretched between them. Then Reid sighed. “Like that is it? And ye expect me to believe ye aren’t a Muir spy? How am I supposed to accept that when ye willnae tell me where ye came from?”
“I have told you!” Abi shot back. “I’m from Manchester. And I can’t tell you how I got in that room because I don’t know!” She clutched her forehead, feeling suddenly dizzy. “It’s all so...confusing. I don’t understand. I was there then I was...somewhere else.”
“And that makes about as much sense as everything else ye’ve said since we met.” He pushed himself off the door. God, he was tall. He towered over her like an oak tree. “Perhaps ye are a Muir spy, perhaps ye aren’t. I willnae take the risk, not when the lives of my men are at stake. But I can give ye a choice. Ye can either stay locked in this room, or I can give ye the freedom of the castle—if ye give me yer word that ye willnae try to escape.”
“My word? How can I make such a promise when you’ve brought me here under duress?”
He shrugged. “That’s a decision only ye can make.”
Get locked up in here or have the chance of escape? It was an easy choice. “All right. I give you my word I won’t try to escape.” So what if she was lying right to his face? So what if she was going to try to escape the second she got the opportunity? What did she owe him? Precisely nothing! He’d kidnapped her for pity’s sake!
He studied her for a moment and then nodded, satisfied. “All right then. I’ll send a couple of the lads up to bring ye water for bathing. I will leave ye now. There are...things...I must attend to.”
He turned to leave and Abi blurted, “You need a rota.”
Reid turned back. “I’m sorry?”
“Who’s in charge of this place? The castle, I mean?”
“I am. I’ve been charged to hold it until Laird Campbell has gathered his army.”
“Then if you don’t get organized, having nobody going out getting food will be the least of your worries. You’ll soon have laundry piling up, dirty dishes, the garden getting overgrown. It’s no different from running a hotel, really. In fact, lots of castles have been turned into hotels. I’m surprised this one hasn’t considering what good condition it’s in. Hasn’t the tourist board approached you? Or one of the big hotel chains? You could even host weddings. That would bring the cash rolling in.”
Reid was staring at her as if she was speaking in tongues. She cleared her throat. “Anyway, what I mean is, you need to put a rota together for your staff. That will ensure everything gets done.”
“What, by all that’s holy, is a ‘rota’?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “It’s easy. Make a list of all the jobs that need to be done for the castle to run smoothly, how many people are needed to do it, and how many hours are needed to get it done properly. Then assign your men to each job on a rotational basis, either changing every day or every week. I’d recommend every week—it’s much easier to manage.”
“I’m a warrior, not a bloody housekeeper!”
“Oh, sorry. Here’s me thinking you were annoyed that nobody had sorted out the food delivery and that some of your men had taken a day off when they shouldn’t. But hey, if you’re happy with that, ignore everything I just said.”
Reid stared at her, that frown marring his handsome features. “How do ye know about all this?”
“I told you, I manage a hotel in Manchester. We’ve got over a hundred bedrooms. After that, a castle of this size is a piece of cake.”
