A huff sounded from the woman as she gathered the bowl and beaker.“A lady should not be kept in these conditions,” she murmured before coming to her feet.
Lorna lifted her head and peered at the woman.In the gloom, she only made out the curve of a youthful cheek and a tight wimple.A thread of hope spun through her.Perhaps this servant girl would be her saviour.“Will ye help me?”
Silence hollowed the air, with only a whistle of the breeze through the thin slit shattering it.
“Gillean shall kill me if ye dinnae.”Lorna hated to put the serving girl in such a position, but these were desperate times.
“I shall see what I can do,” Anne replied softly.“I make no promises though.I depend on this job.My parents are old and frail and have no other income.”
“Forgive me, I dinnae mean to put ye in such a position.Pray dinnae place yerself in danger.But if ye can help me in any small way, I swear I shall repay ye.”Lorna clenched her jaw when a tremble shook her.They were coming more frequently now and even she heard the frail quality of her voice.“Ye think the laird will harm ye?”
More silence and a long intake of breath.“Laird Gillean is no kindly leader.He rules with a strong hand.Ye should know that well enough, milady.He killed many of yer men, did he not?”
“He did.Though some escaped to Glencolum, I have yet to find out the fates of many.”
“I fear their tales shall be pitiful.Some were captured, tortured and killed.I was brought here after such a time but the men will tell ye much of the horrors.”
Tears burned Lorna’s eyes.She had tried not to consider what had happened to the men who had tried to defend her when she had been ejected from the keep.But when Gillean had tried to kill her and her brother, they had little choice but to escape.She had left behind many friends.
“He hasnae hurt ye?”she asked through a clogged throat.
“Nay, milady, not so long as I work hard.”Anne sounded as though she were trying her best to convince her.
Lorna shook her head to herself.Gillean had to die—he had to.She’d been so consumed in her own grief, she had barely given thought to what others were suffering at his hand.Perhaps she should have demanded her brother and cousin, the acting laird of Glencolum, gather an army, but she had no wish to bring more death to them.Why should many men die when only one needed to?
“I must leave ye, milady, but I shall come back with more food and drink as soon as I can.”
Lorna nodded, not sure if Anne saw her response.Her throat was too clogged, too dry and her voice to weak to respond.She dropped her head back against the stone and waited for the door to shut.
Chapter Three
Logan had finished checking the perimeter of the keep when one of the serving girls approached.He eyed the girl and recalled she was the one he’d sent down to check on their prisoner.
In spite of a busy morning organising the men and overseeing weapon’s practice, his thoughts forever turned to the fair-haired vixen.Was it that she was an attractive woman?Or something else?Curses, if only he remembered more.Why had his neck injury stolen his memories?It made no sense.He could only guess mayhap he had knocked his head during the battle for Kilcree, but in the chaos of battle, none could tell him for certain and few would tell him much of those events.Even the men feared him and kept their distance.The ugly scar across his neck did not help matters.
Anne dipped briefly and kept her gaze to the ground.“Sir.”
“What is it?”He winced at his snappish tone.Logan relied little on civilities but something about having that woman under his care had put him on edge.
Or mayhap it was simply the knowledge of the impending battle.Gillean joining forces with the Norse to attempt to take the Western Isles again and increase their reach into the mainland had everyone feeling apprehensive.To go against their king could have dire consequences.
“It’s Lady Lorna, sir.She is ailing.”
“And?”
“I fear she may die before Laird Gillean returns.”The girl lifted her head and met his gaze head on.Uneasiness haunted her gaze but he saw no lie.
Logan scrubbed a hand across his rough jawline.Was it an act?He had considered the lady intelligent from their brief encounter.The problem was could he take such a risk?The laird would likely wish to deal with her himself.Logan remembered nothing of the woman Laird Gillean had once called sister, but her escape over a year ago still angered Gillean.
“Ye’ve given her food?”
“Aye, sir.But she could eat little.‘Tis the cold, I fear.She has spent too long in the donjon.”She dropped her gaze and clasped her hands.“Forgive me for saying, but ye shouldnae let her die.She is of an important family.”
He nodded.The MacRae clan were one of the more powerful clans in Moray.Gillean fully intended to turn his attention to their lands soon enough, but it would not do to rile them unnecessarily.And mayhap the lady could be used for negotiations.Logan might have much authority but he did not have enough to decide her fate.
Hands to his hips, he released a resigned sigh.Few things made him apprehensive.After all, what could disconcert a man with no memory?But having to deal with that woman again did.
“Very well.Have a guest chamber made up.”
