“What will ye do?” Moira gently placed another wet cloth on another bleeding and bruised spot and looked at him, through him.
“If Robbie sees his daughter looking like this, marriage or no’, there will be war.”
“’Tis the morning after. The MacNab and his wife will be here to see their daughter. Ye willna stop them.”
Struan ran his hands through his graying hair and looked once more upon the ravaged face of his daughter by marriage. Five years ago, he had taken action against his son for the good of the clan. Now, he faced the same decision again. It was good that his wife, Edana, was dead now and did not have to learn the truth about their son. The sight before him now would surely have killed her.
“Will she live?”
“That is no’ my decision, Struan. But, I will do as much as I can to help her.” Moira paused and stared at him, awaiting his words.
He reached down and touched Anice’s hand. The lass mumbled and moaned in her stupor. He leaned down nearer to her mouth, trying to understand her words. Hearing them, in the breathless, terrorized whisper, was worse than seeing the damage. Anice was begging... pleading with her husband to stop his unspeakable attack.
Struan knew what he had to do. The clan was the most important thing. He would send his son back, now, to England. There he could little damage the honor of the clan MacKendimen. There he could not harm this child more than he already had.
And when the MacNab arrived, Struan would pledge on his honor that no more harm would befall the lass. Mayhap that would forestall any repercussions from Anice’s parents.
“As will I, Moira, as will I.”
“What doyou mean I cannot go into my wife’s chamber?”
“Sandy, yer faither asked me to bring ye to him. He waits for ye at the stable.”
“Brodie, get out of my way. My wife awaits me here. I’ll see to my father later.”
The warrior simply blocked the door, keeping his cousinfrom entering. His uncle, the laird, did not want Anice disturbed. His orders were to bring Sandy as quickly and quietly as possible to the stables where Struan awaited them.
“Yer faither said something about a gift ye must see for the king.”
“Now? Nay, Brodie, he can wait. What awaits me inside here will not.”
Sandy took a step towards the door and Brodie nodded his head to the two soldiers across the hall. They took hold of Sandy, who put up a brief struggle. The knock on his head from behind put an end to it. More soldiers took their place before Anice’s door.
“What is happening, Brodie?” the younger guard asked as they hauled the laird’s unconscious son out of the castle.
Brodie thought a moment before answering. He had a very good idea of what was going on, but it was not his place to talk about it with anyone except the laird. From the look of things, Struan was trying to keep this business with his son quiet.
“I dinna ken, Iain. Just follow the orders ye have.”
A few minutes later, the heir of the clan lay sprawled at his father’s feet on the packed-dirt floor of the stables. Brodie watched the laird circle his son, a stony look on his face. He had never seen his uncle like this and, for a moment, he felt pity for his cousin. It was a short moment.
If only Alex were the heir, he thought. The impostor who had lived and trained with them for months was a better man than this one. ’Twas not meant to be, for Alex was gone and the clan was left with this excuse for a Scot.
“Tie his hands behind him, Brodie.” He did so, quickly and efficiently.
“Wake him,” Struan ordered.
Brodie scooped up a bucket of water from the horse trough and threw it on his cousin. He grinned as Sandy screamed, coughed, and sputtered. Had poor Anice screamed during the night?
“What the bloody hell do you think you are doing Brodie?” Sandy looked at him and Brodie saw the dawning perception of danger on his cousin’s face. “Father, tell him to untie me. Now!” Sandy rolled on the floor, trying to gain hisbalance and get to his feet. With a foot on the heir’s shoulder, Brodie pushed him back to the floor.
“Stay!” roared Struan.
Brodie smiled as he saw Sandy finally realize that he was in trouble, deep trouble.
“What ye and yer Sassenach friends did to the whore was a disgrace, Sandy,” Struan began. “But to treat Anice in this way is an abomination. She was an innocent coming to yer bed and ye injured her terribly.”
“You have no right to chastise me about my wife, Father. No right at all.”
