“Aye,” she answered. “Let us get it done. But one thing, M’Laird. I prefer mercy, an’ maybe ye could think o’ that while I talk tae him.”
He looked down into her clear green eyes and something softened within him. “I will think about it,” he murmured. He had the feeling that from now on he would be doing anything she asked of him.
The dungeons contrasted so sharply with the luxury of the rooms upstairs that Leana could not believe she was in the same building. The walls were windowless, made of rough granite and running with damp. The whole place smelled of mold, and Leana clutched her cloak closer to her body as she proceeded along the line of cells, most of which were empty. When they got to Lachie’s, she saw a thin figure wrapped in a blanket curled up on a straw mattress in the very corner of the room, which looked like little more than a cage.
She was appalled, then she was furious, and she could not help it from showing. “How can ye treat a human being like this, M’Laird?” she burst out angrily. “Have ye nae heart?”
He was dumbfounded. Only his daughter had ever spoken to him like this and he always reprimanded her sternly. This woman was a peasant, but for some reason he could not bear to raise his voice to her. Once more he felt humbled.
“I will see that he is given more bedding,” he said, and his voice, at least to his own ears, sounded meek.
She nodded, and a guard opened the door to let her in. As soon as she was inside the cell she took off her cloak and dropped it over Lachie, who was shivering.
“Mistress Leana,” he whispered hoarsely. “How good tae see ye.” He smiled, and Leana felt even angrier as she saw how thin he was.
“What have they been feedin’ ye?” she asked, concerned. “Ye are so thin!”
“If ye remember, mistress, I was gey thin tae start wi’!” He tried to laugh but it ended up as a hacking cough. Leana gathered him into her arms, holding him against the warmth of her body. He sighed and leaned against her, closing his eyes with relief at the feel of her warm flesh. Leana felt tears leak down her cheeks.
Fraser had sent all the guards to the end of the corridor out of earshot, but he was standing just out of sight at the front of the next cell, listening. He did not see Leana give Lachie her cloak or hug him, but he heard their conversation as she spoke to him about the golden candlestick.
“Lachie,” she said gently. “I knaw ye are a good man. I can aye tell these things, but why did ye lie tae me?”
“I wis a wee bit out ma head when I fell off the horse at first,” he replied. “I couldnae remember a thing for a wee while. Then it a’ started tae come back but I wis too scared tae say anything. Mistress, my family is starvin’.”
There was no lying in his eyes. “The wee one cries herself’ tae sleep because her stomach is empty. That was the only thing I could think o’ daein’, an’ the Laird has so much. I thought he widnae miss a wee thing like a candlestick.”
Leana sighed, and Fraser, listening, felt like a worm.
“Whit is gaun’ to happen to me?” Lachie asked fearfully. “I dinnae care for myself’, mistress, but I need to know my family will be alright.”
“I dinnae knaw the Laird’s plans,” she lied, “but if ye tell me where ye hid the thing I will tell him an’ ask him tae have mercy, but ye must ride oot wi’ him an’ bring the candlestick back. If he disnae, I will look after yer faimly, Lachie. I swear on the Lord’s name.” She crossed herself. She did not know how she would accomplish this, but she would do it.
Lachie hesitated then nodded. “Every day I am here is another day they are hungry,” he sighed. “Thank ye for yer kind offer, an’ if my faimly wisnae in such a bad way I widnae let ye do it but I cannae bear tae hear the bairns weepin’.” He put his face in his hands then told her where the candlestick was.
“I will dae my best for ye, Lachie,” she said gently, then stood up. “And dinnae worry about yer faimly. I will feed them for ye.”
Lachie gave her a watery smile and started to take her cloak off, but she stopped him.
“Keep it.” She smiled. “I made it fae the fleeces o’ oor own sheep an’ ‘tis very warm.”
Lachie smiled his gratitude and pulled the cloak more tightly around himself. As Leana turned to leave, one of the guards brought in a tray with spiced ale, bannocks, eggs, and a wedge of cheese on it and put it down in front of Lachie.
Before she left, she saw him tucking into his food hungrily, and smiled.
Fraser met her a few yards down the corridor.
“Have ye got whit ye want now?” Leana asked bitterly. “The man stole because his family is hungry. Tell me you wid no’ dae the same M’Laird, if you were in his shoes. If ye want tae hand him over tae the justices I cannae stop ye, but there will be a day o’ judgement an’ you will be called tae account for a’ that ye dae on Earth.”
“You are very fond of reminding me of that,” he said, smiling grimly. “If I am not to hand him over to the law, then what must I do with him, Mistress Leana?”
She squared her shoulders and tilted her chin up, glaring at him defiantly.
“Surely a man like that, who did an honest day’s work afore misfortune took him, is worth somethin’?” she asked, her eyes wide and pleading. “He has wee yins an’ a wife tae feed, M’Laird. Put yersel’ in that man’s place an’ hae some mercy!”
“Tell me what to do,” he said, shrugging, “and I will do it if I feel it is right.”
“Use him,” she replied. “In any way ye can—even the dirtiest an’ lowest job will dae, M’Laird.” She dropped to her knees and kissed his hands. “Please.”
