Chapter Eighteen
The next morning, the king looked around the great hall. “Why have I seen so little of The Mackenzie?”
Laird Grant, Laird Munro, Laird Chisholm, and Gregory all sat at the dais with the king and several of his men, attempting to make everything appear normal. The room was filled with clan people, the air exceptionally quiet and tense.
“He is quite busy with the wedding.” Laird Chisholm hiccupped.
The king looked down the dais. “And where are all the women?”
“The wedding,” Laird Grant mumbled.
The king nodded at the young serving maid who was pouring ale into the mugs on the table. “I thought I ordered the wedding to take place on Beltane?”
Gregory cleared his throat. “Aye, your majesty, but circumstances made it difficult to do it on that exact day.”
The king frowned. “What circumstances? It was my order. I am your king.”
Gregory hesitated. “Border problems, your majesty.” He gulped some of his ale.
The king sat back, his arms resting on his considerable middle. “I should have been informed of any border issues.”
Hopefully the king would become more interested in his food and stop throwing out questions Gregory didn’t want to answer.
“Aye. I believe Laird Mackenzie intended to inform ye when ye arrived since that would be faster than sending a messenger to Kensington Palace with ye expected here shortly.”
The king nodded. “And which of the lovely ladies has the laird chosen for his wife?”
Silence reigned both at the dais and the entire great hall, all eyes on Gregory. He fumbled for a minute, then said, “I believe the laird wishes to make it a surprise for ye.”
Whether the king believed that or not, he didn’t say, but merely picked up his eating knife and continued his meal.
St. Agnes’s armpit. How were they going to get out of this?
Eventually the king would have to be told that both lasses were missing.
It was good luck that the healer, Emma, had given Lady Chisholm a potion the night before, and then again this morning Meggie gave her another one.
Otherwise, she would be here right now wailing and beating her breast, throwing herself at the king’s feet.
Even though Daniel had refused to look for Lady Alice until Lady Beth was found, he did send out a number of men to search for the lass.
Since she’d left with a satchel full of her belongings, and no horse was missing from the stables, it appeared she had not been forced to go and was most likely meeting someone.
Gregory would have loved to make normal conversation with the king, but he could think of nothing to say that wouldn’t make things uncomfortable. Thankfully, his men kept him occupied.
*
Daniel sat in his solar. Another day of searching with no result. And now with Lady Alice also missing, the nightmare was becoming even worse.
It had been about five days since Beth had been found missing. His faith in finding her safe and sound was slowly webbing from panic into anger.
He ran his hand down his face and looked out the window. He turned toward the door at the sound of a soft knock. “Enter.”
A young man cautiously walked into the room, his face pale as new milk. He cleared his throat. “Good morn, my laird.”
Daniel nodded and waved to the chair in front of his desk. “Ye look familiar, but I am afraid I doona remember yer name.”
“’Tis Joshua, my laird. I work in the stables and the gardens.”
It was very obvious the young man was nervous. “Ye seem a tad uncomfortable. If ye have something to say, just do it. I have to be out looking for Lady Beth.”
Joshua shook his head. “Nay.”
Daniel’s stomach dropped to his feet. “What do ye mean?”
The young man took a deep breath. “Ye doona have to keep searching for her.”
Daniel stood, towering over him. “Ye better say whatever it is ye came to say.”
Joshua closed his eyes and answered in a whisper. “I ken where Lady Beth is.”
Before he could stop himself, Daniel jumped over the desk and wrapped his arms around Joshua’s neck. “Ye better speak and speak fast.”
“She’s in the dungeon. Lady Chisholm had me bring her there.” His high-pitched voice was full of fear.
Daniel shook his head, hoping to clear it. “The dungeon under the castle that hasn’t been used in about fifty years?”
“Aye.”
Daniel let go of him, grabbed his léine in his fist, and dragged him to the solar door. “Show me.” He shoved him out of the room.
Joshua hurried down the stairs, Daniel right behind him. His mind was in a whirl. All this time Lady Beth was here in the castle? In the dungeon? After five days she could have starved to death.
After three, she could have died from lack of water.
The two of them raced through the great hall, ignoring everyone at the dais and shouts from Gregory. Stopping abruptly, he looked over at his cousin. “Get Emma. Have her go to the bedchamber Lady Beth was assigned.” When the man just stared at him, he yelled, “Now!”
His heart pounded as they descended the slimy, cold, smelly stairs.
Just as he believed the lad was leading him to his own death, Joshua turned and headed down a corridor, both of them slipping and sliding on the moss-covered ground as they moved as fast as they could.
Joshua stopped at one of the cells, removed the bar and flung the door open.
Daniel immediately spotted someone curled up in the corner. Having been in the dark staircase, his eyes had adjusted and he recognized Beth wrapped in a filthy blanket. He squatted next to her and with a howl of agony, scooped her into his arms. “Get me out of here,” he growled at Joshua.
They went back the way they came. Daniel didn’t have time to stop and see what shape Beth was in, or if she was even still alive. He just had to get her out this hellhole.
When they arrived at the great hall, he shouted to Gregory, “Put Lady Chisholm under house arrest and get Lady Munro and Lady Grant and have them go to Beth’s bedchamber.”
Just as he hit the bottom of the stairs, Emma came racing into the great hall, her basket of medicants over her arm. “I’m here, Laird, just tell me what to do.”
He nodded and she asked no questions, just followed Daniel up the stairs. He burst into Beth’s bedchamber, thinking of the night he’d made love to her in this very room. He prayed with everything he had that they had saved her in time.
“God’s bones!” Emma said as Daniel placed Beth on the bed. He placed his fingers on her neck and took the first solid breath since Joshua had appeared in his solar. Her pulse was weak, but steady.
As Emma approached the bed, Daniel turned to Joshua. “Go to the great hall and stay there until I come for ye.”
Still pale as snow, the lad nodded and left the room.
Lady Grant and Lady Munro raced into the room. “Did ye find Beth?”
“Aye. She was in the dungeon.”
Lady Munro covered her mouth, tears forming in her eyes. “Is she…dead?” She grabbed Lady Grant’s hand.
“Nay. Emma is about to examine her.”
Emma looked briefly at Beth and turned her attention to him. “Laird, ye are going to have to leave the room, I need to undress Lady Beth.”
He shook his head clenching her hand. “Nay. I am not leaving until she opens her eyes and speaks to me.”
Emma’s eyes widened. “’Ye canno’ stay, Laird. I need to get down to her skin to see about insect and rodent bites.”
He gritted his teeth. “I am the laird and I am no’ leaving.”
Lady Grant and Lady Munro looked at each other. He turned to Beth’s mam. “As soon as Beth awakens she will become my wife. Therefore, I am no’ leaving her.”
Emma touched him on his arm. “I ken ye are overwrought Laird, but ’tis no’ proper for ye to stay.”
“Fine. Send for Father Matthew and he can marry us right now.”
“The lass is unconscious!”
He spread his feet in a show of defiance. The three women looked at each other. Lady Munro stepped up to Emma. “Doona make a fuss, lass. Let him stay. We can no longer delay seeing to my daughter.”
Her chemise was filthy and it was obvious she had emptied her stomach on herself. Probably more than once.
Daniel closed his eyes at the condition of the woman he loved. Lady Chisholm would hang for murder if Beth died. Then he said a quick prayer that Beth would return to him.
Once Emma had removed all her clothes, she laid a piece of linen over Beth’s breasts and private parts. She turned to Lady Grant. “My lady, I hate to make a servant out of ye, but I need a pan of warm water, some strong soap and clean cloths.”
As Lady Grant left the room, Emma turned to Lady Munro. “I will need a clean nightgown to put on Lady Beth.”
Both women left the room and Emma looked over to Daniel. “I doona think Lady Beth is in mortal danger, but some of these bites can cause infections. Plus, depending on whether she got food and liquids while held captive, it may take her time to recover.”
Daniel gritted his teeth. “I doona care how long it takes or what effort or expense is involved. Just save my…” The words became trapped in his throat, as if he were choking. He turned, and headed to look out of the window so Emma couldn’t see his tears.
*
Lady Chisholm snarled at Meggie. “I thought ye said yer lover was to be trusted!”
Her maid cowered in Lady Chisholm’s bedchamber as the woman came at her with a fire iron in her hand.
Gregory Mackenzie had just left her bedchamber after telling her she was under house arrest for abducting Lady Beth Munro.
“I am Lady Chisholm, I canno’ be held in house arrest,” she’d blustered to Gregory. “I fear the laird has lost his mind.”
The man turned from her in disgust and left the room. Meggie walked the outer area of the space, trying her best to avoid the crazed woman.
Lady Chisholm was angry that no one seemed to be concerned that her daughter was missing. If that lass had left the castle to meet up with that lover of hers, she would see her left without any help or support from her parents when it all fell apart.
Support? Since the laird had recovered Lady Beth there would be no wedding between him and her daughter. They would now live in penury. Or worse at the behest of her husband’s relatives, who despised her.
Someone would pay for this. Either her daughter, her lover, her maid, or the idjit lad that Meggie had told her was a man who she had under her control.