The prospect of this sculpted man as her gaoler frightened her more than the prospect of being a prisoner. He was not a man to be trifled with, that much was apparent.
They climbed two sets of stone stairways, and he stopped at an arched wooden door.
“Here are your chambers,” he snapped.
He does no’ delight in the task of caring for me,she thought sourly. Then she peered through the doorway.
Surely ‘twas a mistake.
The room was small, but boasted a narrow bed in the corner with fresh linens, a comfortable-looking, overstuffed chair by a brazier, and a clean, oak wood table that held a pitcher, a bowl, candles, and a cloth. Sconces were bolted to the wall by the door and above the table. Between the table and the brazier was a slender, shuttered window, wide enough to provide a view of the kitchen gardens and allow light to brighten the room on days when the sun burst through the clouds.
She did not know how long she might be imprisoned here, but for a prison, it was warmer and more pleasant than a dungeon. Blair tried to find joy in that.
And she would be alone, for the most part. Blair could find joy in that.
She’d had difficulty finding joy in anything in the past. How odd that she might find a scrap of joy with the MacDonalds.
“Thank ye,” she murmured as she sidled past his thick form into the room. She tried to ignore the solid heat he gave off, hotter than the room’s brazier, as she brushed against his chest. He didn’t move, and it was rather like brushing against a wall.
After being secluded with her aging, sickly husband for so long, Reade’s sheer girth astounded her. Blair averted her gaze and kept her focus on the room.
“Will this suffice?” he asked, the rumbling in his voice vibrating through her and into her chest. Even his voice was thick.
And why was he asking? What jailer asked if the prisoner’s quarters were acceptable?
“Aye. ‘Tis comfortable looking.”
The man grunted and handed over her belongings. “Someone will be along soon with food and drink. Ye can freshen up after the ride. I’m certain my father will want to speak with ye.”
Of course he will,she thought bitterly.
Blair kept her gaze lowered and nodded. The man grunted again and shut the door as he left.
Only then could Blair fully breathe. She set her sack on the chair and moved to the bed to sit on the soft wool blanket and gaze around the room again. The difference between this room, this keep, and how she had lived in the past made her mind run riot with agonizing, painful memories.
This chamber was another in a series of temporary rooms, a way station, in a string of temporary residences. After her parents had died of fever when she was but a babe, she had been taken in by her cousin’s family, and as soon as she was of age, he found a match that met his power-hungry needs and he sold her off to an old man with questionable ethics. Mungo Gordon selected her as a final chance for children, which never happened, and he beat her whenever he thought about her barren womb.
Was she devastated when he had been killed by the Campbells? Nay, not in the least. Relief – that had been the first emotion. A wave of relief. Then fear of what would happen to her now.
The arrival of the MacDonalds told her one thing, though. Rumors of her husband’s efforts as a faithless spy had reached her ears as much as they had reached the Campbells and MacDonalds. If the kin of MacDonald of Glengarry was knocking at her door, then they presumed she was a spy, or she at least had information they might find useful.
Fools,she thought. Power-hungry men were so foolish. If they presumed anything, then they’d know her husband hadn’t shared any of his proclivities with her.
He hadn’t seen her as a person with whom he might share information, especially sensitive information.
Blair exhaled hard and flopped back on the bed. ‘Twas softer than the hard bed back at Kinlochleven. Another joy.
But if they thought she was a spy like her husband, then why was she housed in this fine room and not in a cell below the keep?
Perchance they were only biding their time with her.
Perchance Blair needed to take matters into her own hands before they learned the truth about what she didn’t know.
