19
So that was it, then.
Isla could not speak to Margaret. She could not speak to Brodie—until after they had exchanged vows, at least, and by then, it would be much too late. And trying to speak to her father had yielded no positive results at all.
It was over. She had run out of people to confide in, and she had no more options ahead of her except to go through with the marriage and hope for the best.
Margaret wouldnothave left of her own accord. Not without first telling Isla. She was certain of that, even though they had quarreled.
So had the maid been banished? Was she imprisoned in the dungeon?
Or had some more terrible fate befallen her?
Whatever the answers were to these questions, they remained infuriatingly out of Isla’s reach. She had no doubt that if she tried to investigate these matters herself, her father would find out and order her to cease. There was no one left for her to trust enough to look into them on her behalf.
Just as she had given up all hope and was prepared to return to her bedchamber, she heard a familiar voice over her shoulder. “I hope it’s all right that I chose to attend today.”
Isla turned, her eyes wide with surprise. “Andrew!”
He stood before her with a shy grin. “I was unsure of whether it would be appropriate for me to come. Whether you would even want me here, frankly, under the circumstances. However, knowing how you felt about being forced to marry this man, I thought you might need someone to talk to. And selfishly, I had hoped I might be able to see you one more time.”
She wished that she could throw her arms around him and embrace him gratefully, but there were too many other people about, and she worried that one of them might tell her father what they had seen.
“You have no idea how pleased I am to see you,” she told him. “And yes, I would like nothing more than to talk to you now. However, I do not have nearly enough time to say all the things I would like to. Rather, if you truly care for me, I must ask that you aid me in my hour of greatest need.”
He reached for her hand, then caught himself, pulling away at the last moment and looking around to make sure the gesture had not been spotted. “You know how much I care for you,” he said. “I would do anything for you. You have only to ask.”
“I had so hoped that you might say that, Andrew. Thank you. Do you remember Margaret, my maid?”
“Certainly. Why?”
“She is missing. My father says that she left the castle on some personal matter, but I am uncertain whether I believe him.”
Andrew frowned, confused. “Why would he lie about such a thing?”
“I have no time to explain,” Isla answered. “But will you please try to learn whether she is imprisoned in the dungeons? I must know whether my father is being truthful before I can proceed with this ceremony.”
He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “It will be difficult, but I promise to do all I can to find out for you, my darling one.”
Oh, how she wished she could kiss him in that moment. “Thank you. I knew that I could count on you. Now please, hurry! It looks as though the guests are already beginning to arrive!”
From his bedchamber in one of the castle’s highest towers, Brodie saw the same thing: The gates of the castle were wide open to permit the entry of all who had been invited to attend the ceremony. He saw his mother’s carriage roll into the courtyard, and he wished that he could somehow run down and tell her…
What? How could he possibly explain his current circumstances to her in any credible fashion?
Would he say that he had been tricked into believing he had taken Isla’s virginity? What evidence would he have to back up such a far-fetched claim? Either way, she would simply insist that he go through with the wedding anyway, as that was the intention when he had first been sent to the MacLeod keep. She would see no reason to alter the plans in any way.
She certainly would not understand or approve of Brodie’s love for Margaret or his desire to break with tradition and marry one who was not of noble birth.
No. She would be of no help to him here even if he could liberate himself, which seemed as hopeless a prospect as suddenly sprouting wings and flying from the window of the tower.
Suddenly, that thought gave him an idea.
The windows were firmly sealed to prevent anyone from opening them, and Brodie could plainly see that even if that were not the case, he would have no hope of surviving the drop from such a height. There were no lower walls or gables that were near enough to jump to. The fall was severe, and Brodie was not nearly mad enough to risk it.
But the guards don’t know that about me, do they?he mused.They might be persuaded to believe I am foolish enough to have made the attempt anyway. They would at least be obliged to check if they suspected I went out the window so that they might report my fate to Seamus.
He looked around the room, and when his gaze fell upon the sheets and blankets on the bed, his idea for escape became more fully formed.
