Page 44 of A Bride for the Kilted Beast

Worse still, he knew losing his bride to Kincaid in such an embarrassing manner could also have fatal repercussions for Maddison, and it was this last fact that had weighed on Odhrán more than anything else.

Once back at Castle Lennox, he had steeled himself to tell his father what had occurred, wanting to get it over with and know where he stood. On entering his father’s study, he had felt like a whipped dog with its tail between its legs.

He was no coward when it came to a fight. But watching the expression on his father’s face change from one of pleased expectation to one of cold, disappointed fury as Odhrán had been forced to admit he had been bested in public by Diarmaid Kincaid had had him almost running.

The laird had been behind his desk, crouched like a big, black spider, when Odhrán had first come in. His heart had sunk as his father looked behind him, clearly expecting to see his future daughter-in-law following his son into the room.

“Why can ye never get anything right, boy?! ’T’was a simple enough plan, even fer an idiot like ye tae follow, and yet ye managed tae mess it up. Ye let that bastard Kincaid take yer woman, and ye made a fool of yersel’ as well,” his father had roared at him.

“What could I have done, Faither?” Odhrán had asked, rubbing his cheek where it smarted from the blow his father had just dealt him.

“Ye could have outbid him, ye dummart!”

“Aye, and I was about tae dae that when that greedy fool Caelin heard Kincaid’s bid fer a thousand pounds and immediately brought the hammer down and sold the wench tae him before I could dae anything!”

“Ye could have run the bastard through and taken the lass,” the Laird shouted, clearly out of patience.

“What, with his braither standin’ right next tae him and everybody lookin’ on? I argued with him, I tried tae get her back, but that worm McIrving saw tae it that Kincaid got away with the lass. I warned them I’d hunt them down and get her back.”

“Did ye now? So, I suppose ye expect me tae supply ye with men tae make good on yer threat, dae ye?”

“D’ye want me tae bring her back or nae?” Odhrán cried out in frustration. “What d’ye want me tae dae? Go and attack them by mesel’? Of course, I’ll need men tae come with me.”

“Dinnae bother. ’Tis as well fer ye that we have the perfect object of revenge against Kincaid locked up in the dungeons. His sister. ’Tis time tae end her.” His black eyes gleamed. “I’ll send Kincaid a little memento of her, to show him what happens to those who cross me. He can have her head back in a box fer a present.”

Odhrán’s blood ran cold. It was just as he had feared: it would be Maddison who suffered for his failure.

I’ll nae let that happen. Think, think, man!

“Aye, but she’ll keep for the moment, Faither. I’m tired, and I need tae wash up and eat first.”

“Ach, ye’re like a wee bairn, are ye nae? Always thinkin’ of yer stomach,” the laird told him with a disdainful curl of his lip. “I’ll be writing tae Rollo about this. Go on, get out of me sight.”

Odhrán did not have to be told twice. Thankful to be dismissed, he left the study speedily, without looking back. He went straight to his chambers, but instead of washing up as he had said, he sat on his bed and tossed two large drams of whisky down his throat. Then, he put his head in his hands and devoted himself to figuring out his next move in preventing Maddison’s murder.

Later that evening, Odhrán took a late dinner in the dining hall with a few of his loyal men. He was grateful that they did not seem to notice how he merely pushed his food around his plate and watched the doorway intently. As soon as the lackey who tended the dungeons appeared for his meal and sat down at a table at the back of the hall with some of his cronies, Odhrán excused himself and left.

Knowing the turnkey would be there for the better part of an hour, he wasted no time in heading out of the keep. Within a few minutes, he was taking the steps down into the dank halls of the now unguarded dungeons.

“Maddison, ’tis me,” he called softly through the grille on her cell door. A single candle burned inside the gloomy cell. True to his word, he had made sure she always had the means for a little light, for comfort and to read the books he had brought her.

In the flickering glow, he made out the pale, waifish figure rising stiffly from the bed of straw and wrapped in a blanket, shuffling towards him. As always, seeing her like this was like a knife in his gut.

“Hello, Odhrán,” she replied, her voice small and weak.

“I’m sorry I could nae come tae see ye yesterday. I had some business tae dae fer me faither that took me away from home.” That was yet another of the many lies he had been spinning her over the least year, but he could see no other way of keeping her from total despair. Without hope, he feared she would destroy herself.

“That’s all right. Thanks tae ye, I have everything I need,” she told him. But though she thanked him, he noticed again with regret that she no longer came close to the grille to speak to him. Since he had had made the stupid mistake of stroking her cheek once before, she had kept her distance.

Ach, I hate tae see how much she fears me, and I ken how much she’d hate me too if she kent me name. I’d never do anything tae hurt her, but why should she believe that? I cannae blame her fer being afraid of me.

“Maddison, I have tae tell ye, I dinnae come with good news.”

“What d’ye mean? Has something happened?”

“Aye, things are getting’ too dangerous fer ye around here. I’m nae sure ye’re safe, nae even with me protectin’ ye.”

“What will they dae with me?”