“In Anabel’s household such a thing isnae seen as a crime,” he said quietly, sensing her growing agitation and wondering if he had said enough for now. It would do him no good if he pushed her to accept too much too quickly. “I need to rest ere we continue on,” he said as he sprawled on his back. “Dinnae think ye can wait until I am asleep and then slip free. These knots arenae easily untied, and I will ken it if ye try. As I will if ye try to help yourself to any of my weapons.”
Cecily looked around and was sorely disappointed not to find a very big rock close at hand. Hitting him on the head a few times would do a lot to ease her anger. She sighed and slowly settled herself as far from his side as her rope shackle would allow. There was more he wanted to say, she was sure of it, but she was very glad he had paused to rest. Each word he said had to be weighed and considered, and she had more than enough to deal with now. She was also glad that she had spent most of last night’s ride sleeping against Artan, for she suspected it would be a long time before she slept again.
It thoroughly dismayed her that she could all too easily see Sir Fergus as a man who would hit and rape women. He had barely even kissed her, so she really had no basis for that belief. Yet she had seen the way some of the maids had acted around him, as if they feared he would notice them. Since Sir Edmund carefully selected women who were free with their favors to work within the keep, Cecily knew that aversion was not due to the fact that Sir Fergus might decide he wanted one to warm his bed. She was a little surprised that there was a very young girl inside the keep, but decided it was probably because extra people had been brought in to help serve the guests.
What dismayed her the most was not that Sir Fergus was a brutal swine, but that her guardians could not be ignorant of that fact, yet continued to drag her toward the altar. That meant that they simply did not care that they were marrying her to a man who would undoubtedly shame her with his many infidelities and abuse her. Cecily knew that neither Sir Edmund nor Lady Anabel had ever cared much for her, but if Artan was telling her the truth, it was far worse than that. They liked her so little that they would blithely give her to a man who regularly beat and raped women.
It was all too much, she thought and closed her eyes. She had been betrayed by a man she had thought to take as her lover, and he wanted her to believe that she had been betrayed by her guardians for twelve long years, that they were about to make her marry a brutal man who planned to kill her when he grew tired of her. Just trying to wade her way through what might be truth and what might be lies had her head spinning. For just a minute she needed to rest her poor, beleaguered mind.
The next Cecily knew she was being nudged awake by the toe of Artan’s boot. She scowled at him as she struggled to her feet. Her scowl grew into a glare when she realized she now had a rope around her waist and the other end was attached to thick leather baldric he wore. It was obviously a mistake to go to sleep around this man.
When she realized she had to relieve herself, she nearly cursed aloud. She did not even ask him if he would allow her any privacy, but just stomped off toward the shelter of the trees. Only briefly did the rope go taut, indicating his hesitation; but then she heard him come up behind her. When she reached a tree trunk wide enough to provide her some shelter, she turned to face Artan and simply pointed her finger toward another spot. The amusement that glittered in his eyes made her want to scream.
Deciding that talking might provide each of them with just a little more privacy as they tended to their personal needs, Artan said, “Ye will come to see the truth soon, lass. Ye are clever, and a wee bit of time to think will make ye see things ye have missed before now.”
“Right now the only thing I am missing is my own soft bed,” she muttered.
“Ye can have a nice soft bed when ye get to Glascreag.”
“Did ye ne’er think that I might want to marry Sir Fergus?”
“Nay, ye proved that by coming to meet me at the burn.”
“It might be best if ye dinnae speak on that. One doesnae like to be reminded too often about how big a fool she has been.”
“Ye werenae a fool,” he said sharply. Then before she could argue that, he continued, “Ye may be slow to heed what else I tell ye, but I could see that ye were close to believing the truth about Sir Fergus ere ye rested. ’Tis best if ye get away from Dunburn just to avoid that marriage.”
“I cannae avoid it, nay unless my guardians end it. All I shall do by staying away from Dunburn is shaming the Donaldsons, mayhap e’en draw them into a feud or the like.”
“’Tis nay more than they deserve.”
Cecily stepped out from behind her tree, put her hands on her hips, and glared at him. “Mayhap,ifwhat ye are saying about them is the truth. Of course, if what ye are saying about Sir Fergus is also the truth, then I doubt his family will take such great offense when the marriage doesnae take place. Howbeit, I only have your word that all these things are true.”
He moved closer to meet her glare squarely. “Of course I speak the truth.”
“So ye say.”
“And so Old Meg says as weel.”
“Old Meg?”
“Aye.” He pointed to one of the bags hanging from Thunderbolt’s saddle. “Who do ye think packed some clothes for ye?”
Old Meg had known what he was going to do and had allowed it? thought Cecily, her mind reeling in shock at the possibility. She quickly shook aside what felt like a traitorous thought. Old Meg would not agree to having her kidnapped. Then she recalled how much Old Meg disliked Edmund and Anabel and how much the woman had scorned Sir Fergus. It was possible that she had helped Sir Artan, not because she believed his accusations, but because she wanted to get Cecily away from Dunburn and Sir Fergus.
“Just because Old Meg helped ye pack a few clothes for me doesnae mean she believes all ye say. She has ne’er liked Sir Fergus, and she could have just been trying to get me out of that man’s reach. Aye, especially if she kenned how he is with women.”
Artan grabbed her by the arms and gave her a little shake. “At some time ye are going to have to accept the truth. I am nay lying. I heard Edmund, Anabel, and Fergus plotting how they will soon be rid of ye and how they will divide up the spoils.”
“But it makes no sense. E’en if Edmund and Anabel have been lying about the inheritance and cheating me out of what is my due for years, why would they bring Sir Fergus into the fold? If they couldnae e’en share what was all mine with me, why would they share it with him? He isnae kin to them. He isnae e’en a close friend.”
“He has been Anabel’s lover. How much closer do ye want him to be?”
“Anabel has lovers?”
Artan found it interesting that that was the thought that would come to Cecily’s mind and not the fact that her betrothed had betrayed her. “Aye, oh she is verra discreet, unlike her husband; but, aye, she has lovers. Sir Fergus was one of them, although I cannae say much for her selection. She obviously doesnae practice what she preaches.”
“Has she been your lover?”
