Thoughts of him sent a fresh wave of nervousness through her. She had selected the finest of the gowns he had sent to her. It was deep purple velvet, with silver stitching and floor-length sleeves. The square neckline was enhanced by the same intricate pattern from MacDonald’s brooch, with tiny amethyst stones sewn in. Annabella had wanted to wear it since she first saw it, but thought it too grand for her prison residence. This evening she had a good excuse to wear it.
Cora finished her hair by fastening the braids at the back of Annabella’s head. She then helped her into the gown, and tied the fastenings at the sides. A heavy girdle of thin silver squares hung low on her hips. Annabella loved how it felt, pressing onto her lower belly. No one in London wore anything like this, and she found herself longing for a mirror.
Cora finished her work by placing a wreath of tiny white flowers on Annabella’s head. Surely she must look like a faerie princess who just stepped out of the wood. She smoothed the gown as it fell across her belly and hips. It was heavy, but was cut to fit her frame beautifully, and thankfully did not overly enhance her already ample bosom.
The last thing she wanted was MacDonald to think she wanted to encourage him into another encounter. Annabella’s cheeks grew warm as she recalled his hands and mouth on her body. That mistake could not be repeated, no matter how much a part of her longed for it—and more!
The setting sun cast long shadows across her chamber. Annabella had been ready for hours, but had yet to be summoned. Would MacDonald collect her himself, or would he have one of the guards escort her to wherever she would meet him?
She didn’t have to wait much longer. A knock at the door was followed by a curt, “May I enter?”
Not the MacDonald, rather his war chief, Graham. She let out a deep breath and relaxed a little. “Yes, you may.”
The door swung wide and the man entered. His brow was drawn and he was frowning. “My lady, I am here to escort you to Angus.”
“You look troubled. Should I be worried?”
His brow shot up and then he smiled. He was a very handsome man in his own right, with sea-blue eyes and deep, rich, reddish-brown hair. Annabella supposed he did not have to look too far to find a lady. Still, he was nothing in comparison to MacDonald. That man surely had been sculpted.
“You have nothing to worry about, Lady Annabella.”
Somehow he did not sound convincing enough for her liking. “Your furrowed brow would suggest otherwise. You are certain you do not bring me to a dungeon cell instead?”
Graham smiled broader, which made the dimples in his cheeks deepen. There was no doubt he could sweep a woman off her feet if he chose to.
“You are in no danger of being moved from this cell. My job is, as I said, to collect you and deliver you to Angus for the evening meal.”
“And will you be attending, as well?”
“You honour me, Lady Annabella. Aye, I plan to attend, as well as our war council. Angus feels they should meet the woman who may be our demise.”
Annabella’s heart thudded hard in her chest at that comment, and her face grew hot. How could she possibly be anyone’s demise? She was the victim here, and had no control over the situation whatsoever!
“Surely your war council can see that I am an innocent victim in this hideous business between MacDonald and the king?” Graham crossed his arms over his chest and lifted one brow. He was not convinced, clearly. “What power could I possibly have over anyone or anything? I am just a woman.”
Her own words made her cringe, but if she were to ferret out the logic behind Graham’s words, she would need to play a little thick in the head.
His gaze trailed down across her body and back up again, “Oh, I think you possess much power. The question is whether or not you are aware of it, and how you are using it to your advantage.”
His words made her guts lurch. Did he really think she would use her body to get what she wanted, like some common whore? Never in her life had she been so insulted. Annabella straightened her back and lifted her chin. It would be so easy to simply deny it, but she wanted to go into this meeting armed and prepared.
“I cannot imagine what you mean by that,” she said, and walked past him toward the open door.
“Do not misunderstand me, Lady Annabella. I know you had no control the day you were taken.”
Annabella turned around at the door. His hands were back down at his sides, and his countenance was sincere.
“I also know that your king will stop at nothing until he has acquired all MacDonald lands and titles,” Graham said. “The man wants everything we hold dear, and Angus will die before he sees that happen. I do not know if these messages you want to send will be harmful to him or not, but let me tell you this. My loyalty is to everyone here, and if one hair is harmed on anyone’s head because of your actions, I will do everything in my power to see you brought to justice.”
Annabella was at a loss for words. She had only meant to alert the king that in coming here he would see no resistance. That would mean all would remain unharmed, would it not? And if they all thought the king would come for her, did that mean the elder MacDonald really was dead? Her heart ached at the thought. Angus would be devastated.
“I trust this means no message has arrived from King James?”
“We have received no messages. What does that tell you?”
“Interrogating my prisoner, are you, Graham?” Angus asked from behind Annabella. She had not even heard him approach. Her body tingled just at the mere sound of his voice. Annabella’s eyes were locked with Graham’s when Angus spoke, and his brow shot up. What did he see that she could not?
“I am merely collecting her as you bid, my lord.”
