Chapter Twenty-Five
The rain came down hard enough that Aidam could barely see three yards ahead of them unless flashes of lightning illuminated the sky. It was a rare early morning storm and the worst yet of the season, but he continued their breakneck pace.
“Don’t ye think we should slow down, cousin?” Jemina shouted into the storm.
“If we slow, we’ll nay make it in time,” he shouted back. The road was pure mud, and Aidam cursed to himself. Any signs of the clan’s movements had already washed away. “Did ye see signs of a camp anywhere?” Through the sheeting rain, he saw Jemina shake her head. “Yer Da drove the men straight through. We only have until the dawn to overtake them.”
Their odds were poor. His clansmen would arrive at the keep at any point. He had failed in his attempt to beat them. The only hope Aidam had was that his uncle would wait until daybreak to speak to Lady MacAskill. He had no clue how he would gain an audience with the lady of the keep before his uncle.
He dug his heels in and urged his horse to move faster. His hopes lay in arriving at the MacAskill keep before his uncle and the men. He would have to figure out the rest when he arrived.
* * *
The storm had slowed, and the rain finally slowed to a light mist. Tears sprung to Ellie’s tired eyes, blending with the remaining rain as they rolled down her cheeks. Her childhood home came into view, and she was torn inside. She had hoped to return, but never under these circumstances. She had let her brother down. What was worse was that, in part because of her, they stood to lose everything to Sinclair. Yet, she could not ignore her mother’s role in all of this. Although Ellie’s suspicions about Sinclair meant she had been right about her mother all along, Ellie found no joy in the revelation. What’s worse, she could not bring herself to broach the subject with the angry Laird. She needed to somehow speak to her mother first. Preferably alone.
“My laird, ye cannae mean to wage battle against my family? Not truly. Not after our clans have been friends for so long, think of my father in his grave. Would you dishonor him so?”
“Yer Da?” he scoffed, wiping his face to remove the water. “Yer Da is the only reason I dae nae invade outright.” He gave his man Duncan a hand signal that Ellie took to mean the men were to stop. She was quickly proven right as they began dismounting from their horses and immediately setting up camp. “The men will sleep for a few hours, lass. I’m going to speak with yer Mam.” He pulled her down from the horse and moved her to a nearby tree before calling for Duncan again. Ellie saw an opportunity. If she could convince Sinclair to allow her to speak with her mother, maybe together they could come up with a way to avoid disaster.
“Perhaps, my laird, I should be the one to speak with me mam? Would the danger not be better explained by me? As you have pointed out, I am the cause, after all.”
“Aren’t ye a clever girl,” Sinclair said. “But nay, we’re past that now, lass.” Ellie deflated. His tone was filled with the same distance she had grown used to at the Sinclair keep. He was beyond discussion. But Ellie had to continue to try. She couldn’t give up.
“What will ye say to me mam, my laird?” She asked. “She cannae force me to marry ye. I’ll nay do it. There has to be another solution.”
“I would nay have ye, even if ye changed yer mind,” he laughed. “Now we talk of terms. If yer brother and yer mam are smart, and with her influence, perhaps he will be, yer family will surrender the lands, and we will nay need bloodshed.”
Ellie had no choice; there was no time left. She had to show her full hand and let Sinclair know she figured out why he was acting such a way. It was time to reveal she knew he was the one who had an affair with her mother. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Looking him right in the eye, she decided it was that moment or never.
“My laird…Sinclair, if ye ever felt anything for me mother at all, surely there has to be another way.”
“Careful, lass,” he warned, his voice filled with grit and warning. “It’s unwise to speak of things which ye ken nothing about. We are done here.” He was so cold and calculating it sent chills down Ellie’s spine.
Ducan approached, and Ellie turned to see he was holding something. Her eyes widened in shock.
“My Laird?”
“Now, lass, we cannae have any trouble from ye, so forgive me, but we’ll be tying ye up,” Duncan said.
Tie her up?Her eyes shot from Duncan to Sinclair and back again. “You cannae mean to be serious?”
“Aye, he’s serious, lass,” Duncan replied, wrapping the rope around his arms.
Ellie looked at the rope and then again at Sinclair, who had already turned away disinterested. “While the men sleep, keep an eye on her,” he said. “I’ll send word when Lady MacAskill and I reach an agreement. If ye hear nothing by the noon hour, be braced for attack.”
“Aye, my laird,” Duncan replied with a curt nod. Sinclair walked away, heading toward the main gate of MacAskill Keep. None of the MacAskill men would dare stop him. They would be caught unaware, but what was worse, they would not suspect trouble. Sinclair was a friend to the clan.
Ellie wanted to scream, warn her family, fight back somehow, but looking at the small army of men who were setting up camp around her, who all followed their laird blindly, she shrugged her shoulders in defeat.
“I’ll nay fight ye,” she said as Duncan reached for her arms. She put them out willingly.
Duncan actually had the audacity to look apologetic. She scowled at the man. He had no right to look at her as if he were sorry for what he was doing. Every inch of her wanted to fight, yearned to fight, but she was tired. She had lost. Aidam was hours away and imprisoned. She had no way to go to him. He had no way to get to her.
Her fate and the fate of her clan were all in her mother’s hands now. Hopefully, her mother’s betrayal of her father nor her hatred toward Ellie would cloud her judgment.
* * *
With the keep in sight, Aidam gave Jemina a signal to slow. They dismounted and tied the horses in a small copse of trees. Thankfully the force of the storm had ebbed, changing from the earlier downpour into a light mist barely covering the leaves of the trees in droplets.
