A cheer rose as the men, eager for battle for any reason at all, hurried to collect their weapons and mount their horses for the second time that day. They were ready in no time; the countless drills Ceann had put them through had prepared then well for such swift action.They rode hard to the east, the thunder of hooves drowning out all other sound. But it could not drown out Ceann’s thoughts. He could not understand the rage and panic rising in his chest. The rage, aye, he knew rage, had lived in it for longer than he wanted to think about. But what was this feeling of loss, and of fear? For a lass he barely knew? Those were not things he was familiar with, because in his mind, he had nothing to fear, nothing to lose, except his position as laird. Not since the day when he had finally accepted the truth of what his father had done to him. It was on that day that he lost everything else.
***
Though she lost track of time, it surely could not have been more than a few hours of hard riding before they came to a stone manorhouse, not nearly as grand as the keep at Tulloch, but certainly no crofter’s hut either. She was pulled roughly from the horse and led up the stone steps to the door of the manor.Her hands were still tied, and her wrists ached and stung where the rope had chaffed her skin, but she barely noticed; she was far more concerned with whatever fate awaited her within. She still did not even know why she had been taken, but somehow she had not expected to be brought to a fine house.
The door was opened and she was shoved unceremoniously inside. Looking up, she saw seated in front of her on a small dais an older man, perhaps fifty by the gray in his hair and lines on his face, finely dressed, and… bearing an undeniable resemblance to Ceann.She looked twice, but it was definitely there. The same blue-green eyes, the same strong angles of cheek and jaw.But Ceann’s father was dead, or he wouldn’t now be laird. Would he?
“Lass, itisa pleasure to welcome you to my home.” The man spoke, but his voice was not warm and dark and honeyed like Ceann’s. No, there was something in the way he spoke that made her blood run cold and cold fear run down her spine. He rose from his seat, and clasping his hands behind his back, took a few threatening steps toward her.
“Your name, lass?” he demanded.
She answered him only with an icy stare.
“Her name’s Ella, milord”, said the man at her side, the one who had kidnapped her. “I heard her called such whilst I waited to take her.” She shot the man an angry glare.
“Ella, a lovely name for a lovely lass”, said the one who looked like Ceann, but there was no sincerity in his words.Something about him made her very skin crawl.“Tell me lass, what are you to my nephew? His betrothed? His new leman, perhaps?”
Ella’s thoughts raced to catch up. Nephew.This man was Ceann’s uncle? He hadn’t mentioned an uncle living so close by, but then she’d known him only a few short days, and he hardly spoke to her if he could help it.
“Answer me!” he said sharply, rising from his chair.
She tilted her chin up bravely, refusing to be intimidated, though inside she trembled. She could feel the evil of this man, cold and hard,pressing against her skin. “Neither. I am only his guest”, she said as insolently as she could manage while afraid for her life.
He narrowed his eyes at her dangerously, clearly not satisfied with her answer.“Morag!” he bellowed, not taking his eyes from Ella.A woman hurried forward from the group of waiting servants behind them, her eyes never leaving the floor. So different from the cheerful servants at Tulloch, Ella thought. These people looked as cowed and nervous as any she’d ever seen.
“Yes, milord?”
“Show our guest to her chamber and let her… freshen up. Perhaps she needs some time to consider the dire circumstances that come with her lies. See that she joins me later for supper.”The maid bobbed her head and motioned to Ella to follow her as she headed for the stone stairs at the side of the hall. As she began to climb, she heard the voice of her captor calling for her to be guarded at all times.Guest he says!Not likely.
She was shown to a room that she had to admit was much nicer than most prisoners were probably allotted. There were rugs on the floor, and a bed with a thick mattress and velvet bed curtains. A few tapestries adorned the walls.It was not unlike her room at Tulloch, though considerably smaller.And instead of a feeling of loneliness and waiting, this room gave her a feeling of oppression and dread.A maid came in with a basin and a steaming ewer of water, which she placed on a table along with a cake of soap and a linen cloth. She was then left alone.Déjà vu,all over again.How much she wanted to be back at Tulloch right now!
As soon as she heard the latch click, she drew a shaky breath and immediately started searching the room. Either for a makeshift weapon, or a way out, she didn’t care. Her hands shook as she sifted through a trunk of linens. Finding no potential weapons, Ella went to the chamber’s single window. She peered out cautiously, and was disappointed to see the room was at least thirty feet up, perhaps closer to forty.Still, if she were to tie all of those linens together… It was her only option so far, and she would damned well do it if it meant getting away from here in one piece.
Having exhausted her search, she spent the next hour pacing the room, trying to think. The water on the table grew cold, but the thought of washing her hands and face when she might be fighting for her life directly afterward seemed terribly laughable.Why on earth would Ceann’s uncle kidnap her?And have men killed to do so? She knew the Highlands could be a brutal place, but such an act seemed too personal.Was there a family feud of some sort? He seemed to believe she was Ceann’s woman, in one way or another. Aye, it must be a feud. He must think he had stolen her away from Ceann; an act of petty revenge. It was the only thing that made sense, wasn’t it?She wondered if Ceann had arrived home yet and found her missing.Please, please come for me!Surely his honor would demand he take back what was stolen from him. But, then again, she wasn’t really his woman. Maybe Ceann would have the last laugh when his uncle realized he had taken a lass that meant nothing to him. Only, she began to realize, she desperatelywantedto mean something to him. If only…no, Ella.Don’t even start. That man will surely break your heart if you let yourself fall for him. And right now you have your own life to save.
When finally a knock sounded at the door and a maid entered, she jumped. Then her heart began to pound nervously. She swallowed, gathering her courage again. Now she would perhaps find out exactly why she was here.
She was led back to the hall where she had entered, but now she took the time to look at her surroundings. The room was replete with fine carpets strewn on the floor, and rich furnishings. The table was set with silver, and the food looked rich and well-prepared. Her gaze went to the dais, where the head table had been set up. Seated there was the man,Ceann’s uncle,who held her captive. He smiled at her and gestured to the seat beside him, but his smile was anything but warm.
“Come, sit down.You must be hungry after your journey my dear.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, but walked to the proffered seat, head still held high in protest. She sat down and eyed the food on the trencher before her. A lavish meal, to be sure, but what guarantee that it wasn’t poisoned? She turned instead to glare at the man beside her.
“I demand to know by what right you hold me here.”
“I don’t concern myself with rights, lass. You’re here because I ordered it.”
She gave him an icy glare, then said in an overly-sweet voice, “Will you at least give me your name, so that I know how to address you?”
“I’m sure that you already know who I am wench, but if you insist on pretending otherwise, you may call me Lord Ross.” He nodded toward the man seated at his other side. “My son, Hugh.”
She looked over at Hugh, but knew immediately she would have no help from him. He was a younger version of his father, complete with the cold eyes and grim mouth. Turning back to Ross and gritting her teeth, she tried again. “Then please tell me, Lord Ross, why I find myself here,against my will.”
He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes.Cold.The man was so cold. “There were rumors…” He paused, tapping his chin as if in thought.
“What rumors?” she snapped.She was quickly becoming annoyed with his game.
“My nephew is a very wealthy and very powerful man, there are many who would seek to have such things for themselves.”
