On the contrary, Annabella pulled out a beautiful plush, green, velvet gown, with elaborate gold stitching on the square neckline, floor-length sleeves, and matching girdle. The material was heavy but soft to the touch, which told her the weavers were very skilled. It was as good as any velvet she had ever seen. She shuffled into the gown as best as she could, and struggled to fasten the ties at the sides. Thankfully, they were not on the back; else she would not have been able to reach.
Annabella would have given anything for a mirror. She had never before worn a dress of this style, as hers were normally in two pieces, with elaborate designs and heavy boning. She smoothed her hands down over her torso, enjoying the way the gown hugged her curves.
She knocked then waited for the guard to flip the lock and open the door. His expression was impassive as he stood there and waited for her to speak.
“I wish to speak with MacDonald. Can you get word to him?”
“Aye, I can.”
Annabella waited. When he did not move, she placed her hands on her hips. “Will you go straight away?”
“No.”
“And why not?”
“Because you are a prisoner and do not get to make demands. Angus’s orders. I will be relieved in an hour, and I will tell him then that you wish to see him.”
Annabella said, “Fine,” then grabbed the latch from the guard’s hands and slammed the door closed herself. Be damned with all of them. When the door opened again, her back was to it.
“Have you changed your mind so quickly and will now do as I bid?”
“That depends on what you want,” MacDonald said from behind her. Annabella whirled around to find her captor eyeing her from head to toe. “I—the guard—”
“Aye, I heard the exchange as I was climbing the stairs. He is a good and loyal man, and does not deserve your frustration.”
Annabella’s cheeks flamed at the thought of MacDonald overhearing her outburst. What had gotten into her? She had never resorted to childish behaviour even when she had been a child.
“You wanted to speak to me about something, Lady Annabella. What was it?” he asked.
She had never been so tongue-tied in her life, and had hoped to have a few moments longer to frame up her request.
“I wish to send a message to my cousin.”
To her surprise, he tipped his head back and laughed. A deep throaty laugh that sent all sorts of tingling feelings coursing through her.
“I do not jest, MacDonald.”
He shook his head. “You never cease to surprise me. How much of a fool do you think I am?”
“I do not think you a fool, MacDonald. But I wish to send a message to my cousin nonetheless.”
“And tell her what? That I will release you if her husband comes for you?”
How on earth had he pieced that together so quickly? Perhaps her idea was foolhardy, after all, but she would not give up so easily.
“I wish to inform her that I am unharmed. I am a lady from a noble family, MacDonald. You would not wish anyone to speculate on my mistreatment, would you? I expect that only mayhem and carnage would result in such rumours.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“How could I possibly threaten you? I have no means to do so.”
“Not now, but you expect me to hand you the one method in which you could?” “I have no expectation of you, MacDonald. I only hoped to plead to your sensibilities and allow me to put my cousin’s mind to rest. As a new mother, she is no doubt worried sick at the thought of all the atrocities that have befallen me.”
MacDonald crossed his arms over his chest and smirked. “Very well. But I will read any message you send first.”
“I would expect no less.”
His eyes narrowed then. Even in his guarded state, he was something to regard.
