Chapter 3
T hey were taken to a sparsely decorated room. A thin rug lay upon the floor, while a single bed was against the wall. There was a dresser with a single candle atop it, but no way to light it. They were shoved roughly into the room. The dim light made everything barely perceptible, and Caroline had to struggle to make anything out. The bindings were cut away from her wrists, offering relief from the pain.
She turned, begging for mercy, but the door was already being slammed shut. A key twisted in the lock—a damnable sound.
Tara and Nessa were at least free of their bonds as well. Tara slumped onto the bed, her arm falling over her face. She let out a pitiful moan. Nessa rushed to the window and flung it open. She looked out and cursed.
Caroline peered over her shoulder. It was a sheer drop to the ground, far too far for anyone to survive. Caroline closed the window, shutting out the cold.
“Well, this is a fine mess ye hae gotten us intae,” Nessa spat, rubbing her wrists as she perched on the edge of the bed.
“Me?” Caroline asked, shocked.
“Aye, ye said we weren’t gaeing anywhere near Knox territory.”
“Ye are the one who insisted on stealing the food before anyone could talk sense intae ye! We could hae sneaked past those guards.”
“I was just trying tae feed us!”
“Stop it!” Tara cried out. She pushed herself into a sitting position. Her voice trembled with emotion. “I dinnae want ye tae fight. What good is fighting gaeing tae dae us?”
Caroline took a breath. “I thought if he believed our story, he might take pity on us.”
“It was a good story,” Nessa conceded. They were often quick to argue, but the nature of their relationship was one where hostilities could be calmed almost immediately. “Right now, I would love tae be a merchant’s daughter, rather than what we are.”
“There’s naething wrong with what we are,” Caroline said tersely. “We should still be proud of our family name. I dinnae understand why the Laird bears such resentment taewards our family. It’s probably some territorial dispute.”
“It always comes down to land,” Nessa replied sagely.
“But as long as we are alive, we hae a chance tae change his mind and show him that we deserve his mercy. I am nae willing tae accept my fate, and I am nae gaeing tae end up like other trespassers.”
“I think he might hae other plans for ye,” Nessa confessed.
Caroline ignored her words, and the unscratchable itch at the base of her neck.
“We should get some rest at least. Gae tae bed. Things may seem better in the morning.”
Nessa and Tara shared the bed, while Caroline curled up on the floor. The rug offered scant comfort. She placed a hand beneath her head and closed her eyes, but sleep did not come easily. All she could see in her mind’s eye was the fearsome visage of Laird Knox, and the terror of what fate he had in store for them.
She awoke the following day to pale strands of light caressing her face. Her heart was enlivened when the key turned in the lock and the door was opened, but it was swiftly shut again. They were left with a simple breakfast of bread, cheese, and water to share among them.
The rest of the day was spent in isolation. Occasionally, Caroline heard footsteps outside the room and muffled voices, but she could not make out anything distinct. Her heart often spiked with fear, though, presuming that Laird Knox was going to make himself known and terrify them once again.
Tara tried to pass the time by playing simple games, but neither Nessa nor Caroline were in the mood. Nessa tested every inch of the room for an escape route, while Caroline preferred to reserve her energy.
In the later part of the day, the door opened again. Caroline’s stomach growled, but dinner was not being served. Instead, three maids came in, each of them holding a dress. They stretched out their arms, offering the dresses to each sister.
“What is this for? What’s gaeing on?” Caroline inquired, but the maids did not reply. “Please, ye must help us. Is there any way tae escape? We dinnae belong here, surely ye can see that? We dinnae mean any threat tae the Laird, and we hae nae hurt anyone.”
Caroline’s imploring words were again met with silence. However, this time she sensed regret in the eyes of the maids as they averted their gaze. Caroline was resigned to taking the dress. Nessa and Tara followed suit. As soon as they did this, the maids shuffled out of the room and once again the door was knocked.
With no further instructions, Caroline felt forced to play the Laird’s game. They changed into the dresses he had provided for them. Caroline’s dress was cornflour blue, Nessa’s was a bright green, and Tara’s was the color of a daffodil.
“What are we supposed tae dae now? Is this sae we look good when hanged?” Nessa asked.
Tara whimpered. Caroline moved to place a comforting arm around her youngest sister’s shoulder, while glaring at Nessa, trying to warn her to not say such things. Nessa’s eyes bugged wide, and she emphatically shrugged, indicating that she believed she had done nothing wrong.
Then, the key was turned again, and a guard stood there.
“Come,” he urged them.
Caroline glanced at her sisters. Was this the beginning of the last few moments of their lives?
“Now,” the guard hissed as they hesitated. His hand moved to the hilt of his sword, which was enough to make the girls move. They filtered out of the room in a single line. Caroline went first, followed by Nessa, and then Tara.
“Where are we gaeing? Where are ye taking us?” Caroline asked.
“Ye will find out soon enough,” the guard replied tersely, and from his tone it was clear that any further questions would not be welcomed.
Tara looked beside herself. Her lower lip trembled and tears welled in her eyes. Caroline understood well how she felt, although she was trying to put on a brave face.
They were led through the Keep, along corridors and down stone stairs, until they were standing before two double doors, an entrance to the same chamber as they had been in the previous night. Nessa and Tara flanked Caroline.
“I dinnae want tae die,” Tara whispered.
“Whatever happens, we gae taegther,” Caroline said softly, and took Tara’s trembling hand. Then, she took Nessa’s. She gave them each a firm nod.
She straightened her shoulders and arched her neck back. If these were to be the last moments of her life and if death was waiting for them beyond these doors, then she was not going to cower in the face of doom. She was going to hold her head high and die with dignity, just as a Gilmour should. She would maintain the qualities of her family to the bitter end, knowing that she had made her parents proud.
The doors opened. Caroline’s throat tightened. She expected to see a grisly scene waiting for them, but instead it was something most unexpected. A modest feast had been laid out. One of the tables had been moved into the middle of the room, and it was filled with pies, sliced meat, roasted vegetables, bowls of nuts, and steaming soup. Caroline blinked with uncertainty. The aroma drifted towards her and made her stomach clutch, but she wondered if this was too good to be true. Why would Laird Knox show them this kindness? Was this to be their last meal?
Laird Knox was standing at the far end of the table, his hands resting against the high back of his chair. He beckoned them forward. The guard cleared his throat, once again reminded them that they did not have much of a choice. They were shown to the top of the table. Caroline sat on the Laird’s right-hand side, while Nessa and Tara were opposite her. Tara reached out for some food, but Nessa grabbed her wrist and pulled it down, shaking her head.
Laird Knox pulled his chair out and took a seat.
“Ye may sit,” he made a gesture with his hands, as though he was a puppet master holding on to their strings.
Caroline smoothed her dress down beneath her. Servants came up behind them, the suddenness of the moment making Caroline jump. They poured wine into glasses.
“I hope ye appreciate the new clothes. Ye could hardly come tae dinner wearing the tattered rags ye arrived in. I see things must be grim in the Gilmour Clan if that’s the state of the ye,” he smirked as he said this, clearly taking delight in the perceived ruin of the clan.
The truth was that he wasn’t far from the mark. With her uncle in power, things in the clan would deteriorate swiftly, but Caroline saw no need to share this with Laird Knox.
He took a drink and then pulled some meat onto his plate, chewing loudly. The fat dripped down onto his plate. Tara gave Caroline a searching look, but she shook her head. Tension ran through her body. She held herself stiffly, fearing that one wrong move might incur the Laird’s wrath. This was likely a test of their resolve, and she was not going to show themselves as being desperate.
The Laird polished off some meat and then rubbed his hands together. He leaned forward, placing both forearms on the table. His gaze shifted from side to side, encompassing each of the sisters, although Caroline felt that most of his attention was on her.
“Ye seem awfully quiet, all of ye. Surely, Gilmour lasses hae more fire in them than this? Or does it take a real challenge tae provoke it in ye? Are ye nae gaeing tae put up a fight?” he leveled his gaze towards Caroline.
She felt the weight of it press upon her. Lips quivered, but she kept them closed. She was not about to be goaded into insulting him or making a slip of the tongue that might rouse his anger. Her gaze darted to the far wall where her emblem had fallen to the ground, but it was nowhere to be seen. It was likely lost forever. If Laird Knox hated their clan that fiercely, then he would likely feel offended at its mere presence.
“Are ye nae gaeing tae eat? I went tae the trouble of preparing this feast for ye. It would be rude of ye nae tae enjoy it,” he said, gesturing to the food.
“If this is tae be our last night, then we would rather bring things tae a swift conclusion. A last meal would only taste bitter,” Caroline explained.
Tara looked alarmed at this, while Nessa smirked, impressed by Caroline’s defiant attitude. Laird Knox seemed to be amused as well.
“This is nae yer last night, lass. I hae decided that yer name makes ye far tae valuable tae fritter away like a common trespasser. Oh nae, I hae much more important plans for ye. But ye should keep in mind that this land can be either a prison or a fortress, depending on what choices ye make. I wonder which way ye will lean by the end of the night?”
He sat back in his chair and picked out some nuts from a bowl. He crunched on them loudly, not bothering to close his mouth as he chewed, which would have been polite.
“I was nae aware we hae a choice,” Caroline replied.
“Ye always hae a choice. Such as now. Ye can gae hungry if ye are determined, but ye will only be harming yerself. What good is it gaeing tae dae ye tae starve yerself? And after all the hard work that hae gone intae this meal… It is a momentous occasion in a way. I cannae recall a time when members of the Gilmour Clan were entertained here.”
A thoughtful look came into his eyes for a moment, and then it passed like a wistful cloud. Caroline’s stomach clenched again, as though there was some beast inside her growling away. This feeling would have been as bad for Tara and Nessa as well. It didn’t feel quite right to deny them the opportunity to eat.
She cast a surreptitious glance their way and gave them a slight nod. Tara began grabbing things recklessly, piling them upon her plate. Nessa was more reserved, but she too gathered many things. Caroline was more methodical. She took things one at a time, not wishing to seem gluttonous, even though her instincts were pleading with her to stuff her face.
“That’s better,” Laird Knox rested his hands across his chest.
He rose from his seat and moved to stand behind Nessa and Tara. He stretched his long arms around them and leaned down so that his head was in between theirs.
“I hope ye are enjoying the food,” he said softly.
Nessa and Tara paused for a moment, the color draining from their faces. Caroline’s feet were pressed firmly against the floor, a sign of the tension that held her in a rigid grip. Laid Knox placed his hands on her sisters’ shoulders for a moment.
“They look at me as though I’m some kind of beast,” he growled. “But ye meet my eyes without flinching,” he rose to his full height and strode back towards his chair, his gaze fixed upon Caroline. “Is this a sign of bravery, or typical Gilmour foolishness?”
Caroline arched an eyebrow and then sliced through a piece of meat with a knife. She popped it in her mouth without breaking his gaze, wanting to show him that she was not intimidated by his crass bullying gestures.
She took the opportunity to study his face. He was older than her, although not by a lifetime. His features still clung to a semblance of youth. A smile kept trying to crack the hard line of his mouth, like the sunlight trying to break through a thick layer of clouds. His cheeks were defined, angular, as though he had been carved by an artisan, a skilled one at that, for she could not find any flaw in his appearance.
He smacked his lips together and then returned to his seat. They continued the feast in silence. Caroline tasted the different flavors, but she did not enjoy them. It was impossible with the unpredictable Laird sitting beside them. At any moment, he might rise up and slam his fist upon the table, declaring that it was time for them to die. She couldn’t take him at his word that no harm would come to them.
After some time had passed, Laird Knox rose from his chair and stood beside Caroline.
“Attend me for a private audience. There is a matter I wish tae discuss with ye, something that is best had without an audience,” he glanced towards Nessa and Tara.
“Dae I hae a choice?” she asked pointedly.
Laird Knox replied with a hint of laughter in his voice. “Oh aye, ye can either walk, or ye can be dragged,” he mused, and then ventured away from the table.
Caroline exhaled deeply and allowed her head to drop. Nessa shook her head warily, but Caroline made a calming gesture as she pushed her chair back and followed Laird Knox.
They left the chamber and entered a small side room. His presence and aura filled the room, making it seem smaller than it actually was. He placed his hands on his hips and widened his stance. A guard closed the door behind her, and then Laird Knox closed the distance between them. Caroline mustered as much courage as she could.
“For what I’m about tae discuss with ye, I need tae introduce myself formally. My name is Ryan Knox. And ye are?”
“Caroline,” she said meekly.
He then asked about her sisters, so she gave him their names as well.
“Last night, ye said that ye would dae anything tae keep yer sisters safe. Is that still true taeday?”
“Yes,” Caroline confirmed, the word bitter on her tongue.
“Good. Then I hae a proposition for ye. Marry me. In return, I will offer ye protection. If ye refuse, then I cannae guarantee yer safety from the threats outside these walls, and within.”
Marriage? The suggestion took her by surprise, and she momentarily lost the calm resolve on her face. Her brow furrowed, and she tilted her head to the side.
“Why would ye want tae marry a Gilmour?” she asked. It seemed an obvious question considering his action towards the clan.
“Ye dinnae need tae concern yerself with that. My reasons are my own. Ye only need tae decide whether ye are gaeing tae accept or nae,” he adopted a harsh, impatient tone again.
He took a pace towards her, his long stride eating up the ground. Suddenly, he was filling her vision, drowning out the rest of her surroundings. He was impossibly tall and broad, and seemed to be expanding before her eyes.
“Ye hae until dawn, Caroline. Consider the matter wisely because this decision will nae only seal yer fate, but the fate of yer sisters as well. And this offer will only be given once. I am nae prone tae repeating myself. Yer hand in marriage for my hand in protection. Or, ye can take yer chances in a cruel world,” he lowered his voice.
She wasn’t sure if it was more of a warning or a threat. Perhaps it was both. His boots clipped against the ground as he left the room, closing the door behind him. When he did, the strength sapped away from Caroline’s body. She struck out an arm to support herself and stop herself from pooling in the middle of the room. Her mouth dropped open, and she gulped in deep breaths as she tried to comprehend his offer.
Her hand in marriage for safety. In many ways, it was a simple equation, but nothing in her life had ever seemed more complicated. Her mind was swimming, reeling even as she certainly had not expected him to ask this of her, and she had no idea what her response was going to be.