“I am,” said a commanding voice. Another horseman was riding up to join them. He was a very dark man, and he was the same size and build as Fraser. He would have been quite attractive in any other circumstances, but evil came from him like a sickening stench. “Danny Devine at yer service, mistress.”
Leana walked up to him and held out her hand. “Leana McBeth, sir,” she said politely. “May I gie ye some refreshment? Ale, maybe?” She was, by this time, very uncomfortably itchy and was scratching her arm furiously, but she had to keep them occupied and try not to show them how scared she was.
“That is no’ the kind o’ refreshment we had in mind, mistress,” he replied with a leer. “But maybe a wee bit ale wid be nice, eh, lads? Before we refresh oorsels proper?”
There was a rumble of laughter from the outlaws as they herded the women back inside. One of the men felt Leana’s backside and she shuddered with revulsion but said nothing. She had to keep them talking, she had to wait for help, and she had to believe that it would come.
To Leana’s profound relief Joe was lying in bed again, scratching his arms and face, thankful he was still alive. But he could not bear to watch what these men might do to his daughter. He would rather be dead.
Meanwhile, Leana had poured the outlaws some ale and engaged them in conversation about ordinary, trivial subjects. She was surprised to learn that most of them were married with families.
She tried to memorize their names, descriptions, and mannerisms in case the information should be useful later. Leana never gave up. Meanwhile, she and Abi were scratching at the red blotches that had come up all over their faces and arms. They were excruciatingly uncomfortable, but Leana hoped the outlaws would fear infection if they touched them.
Eventually the bandit chief, Danny Devine, finished his ale and the others took that as a sign to finish up too.
He stood up and went over to where Abi was sitting on the floor, cowering with terror, then he pulled her to her feet and looked her up and down. He had always found the figures of adolescent girls, with their tiny budding breasts, very arousing, and Abi’s was no different. She was still scratching, and some of the raised blisters were beginning to bleed, but Danny did not care. These women were here to satisfy his lust, and if they suffered...well, it was no concern of his.
Abi’s eyes were wide with fear as she looked at him. She glanced over to Leana, pleading for help, but all Leana could do to distract him was to offer him more ale, which he declined by pushing her backwards so that she fell and spilled it.
Danny reached out and grabbed Abi around the waist. “Tell me girl, have ye started yer monthly curse yet?”
Abi shook her head. She did not want to betray her aristocratic accent, but she was too scared to speak anyway, and it showed in her face, which she was still scratching fiercely.
“Good!” Danny said, leering at her. “Ye’re no’ a woman yet—Abi is it?”
She nodded and wrapped her arms around herself.
“Then I will make ye intae a woman the night!” he said happily, rubbing his hands together.
When he began to take his clothes off, Abi screamed.
9
“M’Laird! M’Laird!” Rory’s face was crimson as he struggled up the stairs onto the landing where Fraser’s study was. This part of the castle was forbidden to him, and he knew the Laird would have much to say about him being there, even though Rory was a favorite of his.
Fraser flung open the door to his study so hard that it thudded back on its hinges and banged against the wall. He was frowning as usual. “What are you doing here, Rory?” he asked irritably, then he saw the look on the man’s face. “What has happened?”
Rory was gasping for air. He had run half a mile to break the terrible news to Fraser and now he was completely out of breath. Fraser put an arm around his shoulders and made himself stay silent, even though he knew that something was very wrong; he had never seen calm, gentle Rory in a state like this before.
“M-M’Laird,” Rory gasped. “I met ane o’ the fairmers fae up on the ridge above the village just noo. Poor sowel could hardly walk. He wis puffin’ that hard. Says Leana McBeth is bein’ held in their cottage by bandits. He says they broke the door doon, an’ she tried tae fight them aff but there's too many. M’Laird—yer daughter Abigail is wi’ them.”
Fraser was stunned for a moment. He felt as though a great lump of lead had fallen into his stomach. Abigail—his darling daughter—could have been raped, tortured, or murdered. “But why in God’s name is she there?” he asked desperately, and then remembered how he had recently treated her.
“M’Laird, may I talk tae ye freely?” Rory asked in his gentle voice.
“Yes, Rory,” Fraser replied. “But talk while we walk. I need to muster the men and fast.”
Rory had to trot as fast as he could to keep up with Fraser’s long strides. “M’Laird,” he puffed, “ye need tae show the lass mair gentleness. She needs a woman in her life, an’ I think that woman is Leana McBeth.”
“Damn that woman! She stole my daughter from me and now look what has happened!” Fraser’s fury was made worse by anxiety, and at this moment he could have strangled Leana. The kiss they had shared might have happened to someone else for he hated her so.
“Naw, M’Laird, she is the mither figure Abigail doesnae have, but needs wi’ a’ her heart. I have heard ye shoutin’ at her before, an’ sometimes she comes doon tae oor hoose tae weep a wee bit, but she asked me never tae tell ye. If ye wid only gie her a chance, M’Laird, things wid change an’ she widnae hae tae go tae other people for love. She wants tae love ye but ye keep pushin’ her away.”
Fraser did not stop walking but he stared at Rory with utter astonishment. Rory had just told him a truth he had always known, but never acknowledged. Rory was correct, and Fraser was deeply ashamed as he thought of how he would feel if he were a little boy and Abigail a grown woman who never stopped shouting at him.
“Maybe” he said in a low voice. “But now I must save my daughter. There is no time to talk!” He was silent for a moment. “But things are going to change, if it is not too late…” He trailed off as he thought of all the awful possibilities that might occur.But they will not, he thought grimly,because I will not let them. He had fought and won against the English. A band of barbaric savages would be an easy victory.
Presently, Lachie ran up to him. “M’Laird!” he cried desperately. “Let me come wi’ ye!”
