“I’ll tell my father what ye have told me,” Rafe said. Then he kissed Maggie on both cheeks. “Meet me here in another ten days, Cousin, so we may talk again.”
“I will,” Maggie said. Her kinsman was a good man even if he was English, and she felt a little less alone now. She rode back to the keep, leading her horse through the small door in the stone walls, then into the stables. She unsaddled the animal, storing his saddle, blanket, and bridle carefully away. Then she rubbed the stallion down, checking his hooves to be certain there were no pebbles caught in his shoes.
Finished, she went to the stable door, and peeped out to be sure she would not be seen exiting the stables. As no one was looking in her direction, Maggie slipped out of the barn and hurried across the courtyard into the house. She ran quickly upstairs to find Grizel and told her of the chance meeting with Rafe Kerr. “The Hay has been stealing from us both,” Maggie told her serving woman. Then she said, “Have the lads been fed their meal yet? I promised them I should tell them a story tonight.”
“They went down to the kitchens a little while ago,” Grizel said. “Ye were careful, my lady, weren’t ye? No one saw ye come or go?”
“The Hay doesn’t keep a watch from the roof,” Maggie said. “He doesn’t even know we have a cannon up there for I camouflaged it after he arrived,” she chuckled. “I can come and go as I please. I had best change out of my breeks, though, lest he become suspicious. Then I’ll go down and fetch my sons upstairs.”
Maggie changed her garments quickly, stripping off her breeks, shirt, and boots and replacing them with a medium blue velvet bodice and skirt. She undid her braid, brushed out her chestnut curls, and then replaited her hair. Slipping her feet into a pair of soft kid house slippers, she hurried downstairs to the kitchen where the cook was now preparing the meal. Looking about, she did not see her sons. “Where are my lads?” she asked the cook and her helpers.
“That Hay captain, Bhaltair, came and got them,” the cook said. “The poor bairns hadn’t even had their meal yet. I was just serving it, but nothing would do but that he take Master Davy and Master Andrew by the hand and go off with them, my lady.”
Maggie’s heart began to hammer. She took several slow deep breaths to calm it. Then turning, she ran up the stairs, and into the hall. Her grandsire was dozing by one of hearths, an old deerhound by his side. Ewan Hay and his priest, Father Gillies, were speaking in low tones by the other hearth. Maggie went immediately up to them.
“What have ye done with my sons?” she demanded of him.
“I do not like yer tone, madam,” he responded.
“I do not like ye,” she said, “but I am forced to bear yer company. What have ye done with my lads, Ewan Hay? Yer captain took them from the kitchens where they had gone to have their meal. Where are they?”
“They are safe for the interim,” he answered, smiling a cruel smile. He had cold blue eyes, and the look in them made her shiver.
“Where are they?” Maggie said, trying to keep her voice from shaking.
“Ye will have them back on the day we wed,” Ewan Hay told her. “Until then they will live in a locked and windowless chamber in yer cellars. They will have a single candle for light. When it burns out, they will be in the dark, madam.”
“They’re little bairns!” Maggie said, horrified. “What kind of a man are ye that ye would use two wee lads to force me to yer will?”
“What kind of a man am I, madam? A real man, not a lass in breeks giving orders to her betters. I am a man who will not allow ye to run roughshod over me. I warned ye once that I would teach ye yer place. Now get out of the hall, and remain in yer chamber until ye are ready to obey me. Neither ye, nor yer lads, nor the old man dozing by the fire will receive food or drink until ye bend to my will. Do ye understand me?”
“If I ever considered being merciful to ye, Ewan Hay, ye have put such thoughts from my mind with yer behavior today. If anything should happen to my lads, ye will wish ye had never been born nor seen the light of day,” Maggie said angrily.
“Do ye see, good Priest, what I must put up with?” Ewan said, turning to Father Gillies. “This woman does not know her place. She is well named Mad Maggie.”
“I suggest a daily beating until she softens,” Father Gillies said. “The Holy Bible instructs a man to beat a disobedient wife. Our laws allow it.”
Hearing him, Maggie glared at the fat priest. “Ye would allow this mistreatment of innocent bairns?” she accused him. “I will be certain the archbishop of St. Andrews learns of yer manners, Priest.” Then turning on her heel, she went to her grandfather and gently awakened him. “It is time to go upstairs, Grandsire,” she told him.
“We have not eaten yet,” Dugald Kerr said.
“We are not to be allowed food or drink until I wed this bastard,” Maggie told her grandfather. “And he has locked the lads in the cellar.”
“What?”Dugald Hay suddenly straightened up. He stamped across the hall to face down Ewan Hay. “How dare ye give such orders in my house, ye cowardly cur! And ye, Priest, will ye stand by and permit this injustice?”
“Old man, yer fate and that of yer great-grandsons is in the hands of yer granddaughter. She has been told she must wed me, but she will not. Yet she must! When the contracts are signed and the blessing given, I will release David and Andrew Stewart from their imprisonment, and all will feast in celebration of my marriage.”
“My husband is alive!” Maggie shouted. “Would ye have me commit bigamy, Ewan Hay? And would ye condone the sin, Priest?”
“No one has seen Fingal Stewart in more than six months,” Ewan said through clenched teeth. “There has been no demand for ransom. The man is dead, and ye are mine, Maggie Kerr, whether ye will it or no.”
“Never!” Maggie shouted at him. “I will go to my grave first!”
“How long will a single candle last before yer sons are together in the dark, the sounds of the rats scuttling about them? How long can they survive without food or water? Will ye let them perish in the dark to have yer will, madam? And how long will this old man last in such circumstances? If ye have not bent to my will by morning, he will go into the darkness too! I will not allow ye to defy me! Ye will marry me, and ye will cry out my name in the throes of yer passion. Ye will give me sons. I will have the Aisir nam Breug for myself. Whether any of ye live or die is of little importance to me. The country is in an uproar. The English are raiding as they have never done so before. Ye have no one who will aid ye, for French Mary is too busy protecting her own. The monarchy is weakened now. This keep, Brae Aisir, is all mine for the taking!”
“Bring my lads from their dungeon, and I will wed ye,” Maggie said. She had no choice, but she would kill him when he entered her bed, and Ewan Hay was too stupid to realize it. She couldn’t allow him to harm her sons or hurt her grandsire.
“Nay,” her grandsire said. “Ye’ll not wed him!”
