“I will do as you ask.” Annabella accepted the plaid Robert passed to her, and promptly wrapped it around her head and shoulders. She had not realized how cold she was until the great woollen wrap enveloped her. It was as though the entire clan’s strength was woven into that piece of fabric. Somehow it gave her courage.
* * *
Angus and his father did not have long to reacquaint. The door swung wide and Gawain Chattan entered with four more men. There was no doubt the man was mad in the head, but Angus felt it best to remain emotionless in his assessment of his captor. That way he would much more easily detect the man’s weakness.
“I trust your family reunion has gone well,” Chattan said. “As you can see, your father is alive and in good health. You may take him with you as soon as you award me a boon.”
Angus sat back in his chair, crossed his legs, and folded his arms across his chest. “It is very good to see my father again,” he said. “But I do not think you have thought this through, Chattan. What makes you think I will not just kill you all and leave here with my father right now?”
Chattan’s brows rose, and for a fleeting moment the man looked as though he was not sure what to do next. To his credit, he masked that expression very quickly. “Legend of your fighting ability is well known, McDonald. But even legends have only a certain amount of truth to them. Surely the great Angus McDonald cannot best twenty men?” The man smirked and looked around at the other men present, who laughed nervously.
In peak condition, Angus could easily take a dozen men. He’d done that before, though not often. He looked to his father to gauge the man’s expression and interest in a fight. The great Alexander McDonald had also been a legend in his own day. As a boy, Angus had seen him take down countless men. But the man before him now was older and had spent many months in a dungeon, lacking proper nutrition and exercise. Angus noted the dark circles under his father’s eyes and the way his tunic hung off his shoulders, as though there was less meat than there should normally be. There was no way he would ask his father to fight these men.
Angus wanted nothing more than to see the Stewart king brought to his knees, but he desired only to act in his own way, in his own time. He would not be forced into a cruel act designed by a madman. There must surely be a special place in hell for men like Gawain Chattan.
“What is your plan, Chattan?” Angus asked.
“I am glad to see you are smart enough to see reason,” Chattan said. “You have infiltrated Edinburgh Castle—a feat not easily accomplished. You have also abducted a woman who is very dear to the king. You say she perished, but I do not believe it. At first, I thought she was the wench who sat atop your stallion, but surely no lady would take on the appearance of that vagabond. I do not believe she perished. I believe you still hold her prisoner, and I want you to release her to me.”
Angus was pleased that disguising Annabella’s looks had worked. He had feared that anyone who had seen her along the way might be tempted by her beauty. There was no way he would ever release Annabella into this man’s clutches; he would go to Hell himself before he would allow that to happen. Angus was not sure he even wanted to know what the rest of Gawain’s scheme was, but if he was to stop the man, he must know everything.
“You are a very clever man, Gawain Chattan. Lady Annabella did not perish, and aye, she is still my prisoner. Now that I have located my father, I have no further use for her.”
“Angus, surely you would not release her to this man,” his father said. Angus turned to his father, praying the man would understand his intentions.
“She is nothing to us, Father. She is cousin to the Queen of Scotland, a woman whose title we do not recognize. Do you not agree her life is forfeit, considering all the Stewart has done to the Highlanders over the past several years?”
“We are better than this, Angus.”
“Were you not the one who entered into the scheme with Sutherland to bring down the McKay?”
His father hung his head and clasped his hands in front of him. When he looked up again, his eyes were moist. “I was wrong, Angus. And I have had much time to reflect upon my crimes.”
Angus had fought his father hard three years ago when the plot had been birthed. But his father had been so frustrated at the Stewart’s actions to that point— taxing crofters and farmers, and good men who could not afford to pay the king’s levy. Angus’s father had reached a breaking point, but now he would have to live with the consequences of his actions for the rest of his days. Men, women, and children had been butchered at the hand of his father and Artair Sutherland. Did his father now think Angus had turned into that kind of monster as well?
Angus turned toward Gawain. “If I bring you to her, will you release my father?”
“Angus, no!”
“’Tis the only way, Father.”
“I am glad you see reason,” Gawain said. “You will travel with me to her location, and when she is secure with me, only then may you return here to collect your father.”
Angus stood up, pushed his chair back, and took his time walking over toward Chattan. The man coveted power, that much was clear. But he also enjoyed inflicting harm on others. It turned Angus’s stomach to think of the things Chattan might do to Annabella, but he would never get the chance. As soon as Angus had him away from camp, he would slit the man’s throat without any remorse whatsoever. Never in his life had he considered killing a man in cold blood, outside of being on the battlefield. But something about this man made Angus realize that the world was better off without him. Clearly the Stewart’s way of dealing with prisoners was not effective. Angus’s way—the Highland way—of dealing with murderers and criminals swiftly and with justice made much more sense.
Angus’s father was ill, there was no doubting that, but he was still laird and it was still up to him to decide what would happen to Chattan. Angus would keep this in mind, but would also not miss an opportunity to turn the stakes in their favour where this man was concerned.
“You have a deal, Chattan. We leave at daybreak.”
Chattan nodded. “Daybreak,” he said, and reached out his hand.
Angus glanced down at the hand and back up again. There was no way he would ever shake hands and make a legitimate pact with this man.
“Now I want my father fed a proper meal,” he said, and resumed his seat with his father.
Chattan snapped his fingers, and one of the men left the cottage with Chattan on his heels.
“Angus, you cannot do this. You cannot allow this man to be in possession of a woman. Do you not recall what he did to the MacIntosh woman?”
