Page 88 of An Earl for the Archeress

“And you say she’s gone?”

“I didn’t see her after that, my lord,” Bridget replied. “Some men searched the castle for her, but found no trace. We knew not in which direction she might have gone, but an old woodsman who came begging at our gates said he saw a woman of her description talking to the Sheriff of Nottingham and that vile Sheriff of Ayrshire on the forest path toward Nottingham castle. He had hidden among the trees, too afraid to reveal himself to them, for he swore the men burned his cottage down, but she ended up heading toward Nottingham Castle with one of the sheriff’s soldiers… Do you think it was Alice? Do you think she had something to do with your arrest?”

Alice had been his father’s choice for head servant, and Robert had simply kept her on staff, for she had done her job efficiently, taking her loyalty for granted. It made sense. And he had learned a harsh lesson.

Turning to David, he spoke. “Pen a message to His Majesty at Nottingham Castle to look for Alice among his staff. If she’s there, she should be detained, for she is my traitor. I must get to Mariel.”

“We’re looking forward to having a new Lady of Huntington, m’lord.” Bridget smiled, curtseying. “The Scottish woman was interesting. I shall enjoy getting to know her. Bring her back, sire.”

He nodded his thanks to Bridget and turned on his heel, making haste for the stairs leading to his personal chambers. When he reached the steps, he turned around.

“Lady Charlotte,” he called across the chamber. “You needn’t be quartered anymore. But I bid you move on…and move out. I’ve married Mariel and I go to retrieve her, if she is even still alive. She is the lady here now, and it would be unseemly to have my former mistress in residence. I thought maintaining a friendship with you would be easy and fine, but I realize now how hurt I would feel if she flaunted a lover before my eyes and expected me to approve of the friendship. She did well to retain her kindness on the issue, and I was too obtuse to understand why it shook her trust in me. I’m not so sure I would have acted the same. I wish you and Will Scarlet all the happiness to come.”

His eyes traveled between Charlotte and Will, and then he ordered Bridget into the role of head servant, ordered provisions to be packed, and jogged above stairs to his bedchamber to prepare for his journey north.

…

Mariel sat on the floorboards, counting her breaths, recalling her archery lessons in her mind, and kept her eyes closed, though it mattered not if she opened them. It would be dark regardless. If it had not been for Teàrlach MacGregor and her sister, she might have already gone mad. Her sister, in spite of her obedience to their father, smuggled food out of the kitchen pantries and into Teàrlach’s hands. In her waning lucidity, she was still surprised. If Madeline were caught sneaking her food and interacting with one of the castle’s men without supervision, their father would surely punish her. After Mariel’s defiance, the sheriff was itching for the chance to unleash his fury. The food wasn’t much, but it varied day to day. Sometimes it was more, sometimes less, but with each setting of the sun she was growing more and more ill from the cold draftiness of the tower and lack of sunlight.

She felt tears prick her eyes, remembering Madeline’s fair face dropping in horror as she was thrust into the inner bailey, bedraggled, bruised, filthy, and frail.

She stumbled to her hands and knees. Madeline, sweet Madeline, ever faithful, rushed to her side, dropping down to hold her.

“Mariel! Sister—”

“Be gone to your chamber!” their father thundered, causing Madeline’s face to pale. “And may I never catch you seeking her, or you’ll feel my strap for it. She’s to be imprisoned and deserves no sympathy.”

For one terrifying moment, Madeline paused instead of fleeing, her arm still enveloping Mariel.

“Go, Madeline,” she croaked, shaking off her younger sister’s embrace. Their father had no qualms about using his strap, or his fist, and Madeline invited his fury if she didn’t heed his warning. “I beg you, please.”

Madeline fled to her chamber in tears. Then their father had dragged her to his dungeons in view of the onlookers, only to return for her in the middle of the night and secretly transfer her to this horrid tower so that no one would see to where she had been moved.

This tower, the source of so many childhood nightmares, abandoned long ago and so thickly encased in stone that no one could hear crying within, was a punishment Harold Crawford knew would shake her sanity.

He had charged Teàrlach with secrecy, that no one should know her whereabouts, least of all her sister. She hadn’t seen her sire since. She had no idea if he remained in residence or if he traveled again.

“Let me see my sister,” she begged Teàrlach time and again when he delivered her food or water.

He always ignored her request. As days passed, as she begged for Madeline, the hulking guardsman checked the narrow staircase leading to the tower for possible listeners, then came to her side and squatted low.

“Madeline would come if I told her where to find you.”

“Then tell her, I beg you—”

“Nay.” He placed a compassionate hand on her back. “If your faither should find out…you know that she’ll fare poorly at his hand. I’ve refused her requests for you as well. She would defy your faither to see you, but I can nay let that happen…”

It had hit Mariel then. Teàrlach was protecting them from their faither’s wrath. Protecting Madeline. Indeed, he was sweet on her younger sister, even if he had never indicated it. Such interest would surely get him demoted at best, lashings, and cast out of the castle at worst, and there was no telling what Madeline would endure for enticing the guardsman’s interest. Ridiculous, indeed, for Madeline could no sooner flirt than fly away from this hellhole.

She opened her eyes out of habit, to try to rid her mind of the image of Madeline fleeing her side in tears. Feeble light streamed through the arrow slit, the one source of air. She sat beneath it every day, hoping to inhale a breeze, and remembered being a scared wee lass on these floorboards years ago. It looked out onto the water with no view of the castle and its inhabitants. No one could hear her beg for help.

It had been many sennights since her father had locked the door behind her. Her muscles ached. Poor humors had set in from languishing in the dark cold. She shivered and boiled with sweat at the same time, and knew fever plagued her.

Teàrlach said little during his visits, but as her state of health deteriorated, he became more compassionate, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, placing a forbidden flask of wine to her lips, or bringing a forbidden message of love from her sister. Never in a thousand years would she have pegged Teàrlach MacGregor, her father’s favored head guardsman, as a compassionate man. But he was. And she was grateful.

Hold on to hope, Lady Mariel. When Robert is free, he will come for you.

He had said these words a sennight ago, but she had already let the bleakness from childhood back into her heart. She would never escape this hell. She belonged to another man and yet her father still wielded his authority over her.