Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Lavina?” Maisie’s low voice cut through Lavina’s terror.
She blinked, trying to regain her wits, but there was no use. The fact that all eyes had turned to her made her feel even more nervous and unsure.
“I’ve got to go now,” she whispered, giving Maisie’s hands a tight squeeze.
The anticipation of what the night would bring was nearly unbearable. Drawing closer to the Laird, she tried to keep her hands from trembling.
The last thing she wanted was to look weak. No, if she was going to come out of this marriage unscathed, she was going to have to tackle her fears head-on.
Her steps were silent compared to the sound of his boots hitting the stone underfoot.
Lavina swallowed hard, trying to keep her imagination under control, but it was too late; she’d let it go on for too long unrestrained, and now she was nearly having a panic attack.
“This isnae the way to me chambers,” she pointed out when she noticed that the tapestries weren’t the same ones she’d been admiring since she arrived.
The Laird arched an eyebrow but remained silent as he came to a stop before large double oak doors.
“These arenae yer chambers; they are our chambers,” he corrected, glancing into the room.
There was something about the way he recoiled from the open door. It was a small movement she could admit she was hyper-focused on. But the icy finger trailing down her spine didn’t encourage her to enter the dimly lit chambers.
“Our chambers?” she asked as she dared to step over the threshold.
The warm air in the room chased away the chill that threatened to overwhelm her.
“They were me parents’ chambers, but as ye can imagine, they are nay longer here to enjoy it,” the Laird explained as he pushed past her into the darkness.
Lavina tried to peer through the shadows and dim light, but caught only the outlines of objects in the room. The bed stood in the center and was flanked by two small side tables.
A flash of embers and the popping of fire made her shiver. In an instant, the room was illuminated by a rusty orange light.
Lavina’s eyes widened at the sight before her. It had to be the biggest room she had ever been in.
The ceiling was high, with thick beams supporting the thatched roof. The stone fireplace was a true marvel, with roses carved into the stone hearth.
By all accounts, the room had been fashioned with passion and love. To Lavina, it was a love letter from her husband’s father to his mother.
“If ye dinnae like it, I suppose we could redecorate me chambers,” the Laird offered as he poked at the fire, stirring more embers.
“It’s lovely,” Lavina whispered, finding herself drawn to him.
As she studied him, a single thought began to torment her.
Was this not the same man who had killed her parents? Yet there was something about him, a kindness that she wasn’t expecting.
No. She couldn’t allow herself to believe he was anything more than a murderous monster. And even monsters have families.
The Laird glanced over his shoulder at her, his gaze piercing. Lavina couldn’t help but step back when she caught the hint of desire in his gaze. The kindness she had glimpsed was gone, and the desire turned into ire.
“Surely, Me Laird, there is somewhere else I can sleep tonight. It has been a very overwhelming day, and I…”
“What? Ye think I am goin’ to let ye run out of here and disgrace me? Nay. Ye’re stayin’ right here. For both our sakes.”
“Ye dinnae get to tell me what to do,” Lavina shot back.
The words were out of her mouth before she could reel them in.
Who did she think she was talking to? She had never dared speak in such a way to her father. Yet, the words came out like lightning from her tongue, striking the Laird.
“Is that so? Ye are me wife,” the Laird pointed out, his voice silky smooth but sharp. “Ye stood before God and swore an oath. Ye’re bound to me now.”
Lavina swallowed hard, trying to find some way to defuse the situation.
It was clear the Laird was no man to threaten. It was at that moment that she saw the killer lurking beneath the handsome facade.
She stepped back, fearing for her life.
“I was just thinkin’ of me sister. She’ll be alone tonight in a strange place. Perhaps if I spend one more night with her…” she trailed off.
“Ye walk out that door and I promise they will be the last steps ye ever take on me land again.”
The Laird moved to her. His footsteps were harsh on the wooden floor and thundered in her ears as he drew closer. She held her breath, her body tensing, anticipating the impact of his hand on her.
“Ye can test me if ye want, but I am a man of me word. I promised safety for ye and yer sister, and I gave ye me conditions.”
“Me Laird, I’m sorry. It must be the wine.”
“There was nay wine served,” the Laird murmured in her ear. She hadn’t realized he was so close. Her body stiffened as he towered over her, reaching for the pillow on the bed. “And I ken when I’m nae wanted. Rest easy, dandelion, I willnae be touchin’ ye. Nae now, nae ever.”
Lavina had to wait for her muscles to relax. It was the sound of the doors closing that pulled her out of her stupor.
She turned to find the room empty. Wiping her sweaty palms on her skirt, she tried to wrap her head around what had just transpired. It was as if the world had tilted on its axis.
There was no punishment for her disobedience or her anger. The Laird wasn’t the man she had made him out to be. Where was his cruel nature that fed on torment and pain? From what she could tell, he was merely a man expecting the respect due a husband.
She paced the length of the bed, not sure what to do. The fact that he had left her alone in the room was more than a shock to her.
She tiptoed to the door and carefully pulled it open, expecting to find a guard. But all she saw was an empty hallway and the soft glow of torches leading back to the Great Hall.
She closed the door and leaned against it as the war raged within her. Everything she had believed about him just wasn’t adding up to the man she had just married.
She pressed her fingers to her lips and turned as she slid down to the floor. Her eyes flicked to the balcony doors as the memory of his lips on hers flashed through her mind.
Her eyes remained on the balcony doors as if they were snakes ready to strike. Every nerve in her body tensed, making it nearly impossible for her to find any solace in her loneliness.
He’s tricky. I cannae believe a word he says.
Panic shot through her as her thoughts shifted to Maisie.
After all, Maisie would be all alone tonight. She’d be vulnerable without Lavina by her side.
A horrid, dreadful thought crept into Lavina’s mind. Before she could push it away, it had already sunk its claws into her heart.
“Maisie,” she whimpered, jumping to her feet. “He’s keepin’ me in here so he’s got an alibi when he kills her. Then, he’ll finish me off. Oh, Maisie.”
Without a second thought, she threw the door open and raced for the Great Hall and straight to Maisie.
By the time she reached the hall, it was as if nothing had happened.
If it weren’t for the lingering aroma of salted pork and the embers still burning in the pit, she would have thought it all a dream.
“Maisie?” she called as she spun around the empty hall.
There was no telling which direction Laird McGowan’s men had taken her sister.
Her panic turned into horror as she darted to the doorway, only for the Laird to appear.
“Bring the lass here,” he ordered over his shoulder.
Lavina craned her neck to spy around him. A dark shadow drifted down the hallway. She could only assume it was the Laird’s man-at-arms.
She swallowed hard as the Laird stepped into the hall, blocking her path.
“Where’s Maisie? Ye’ve killed her, have you nae? That’s the reason ye wanted to keep me trapped in yer chambers,” she spat, fighting back the tremors.
Yet her body trembled like the last leaf on a branch fending off the bitter winds of winter.
“What? What madness is this?” the Laird asked, taken aback by the accusation that shot out of her mouth like a whip. “Ye’re callin’ me a murderer?” He stalked closer until his breath fanned her cheeks. “Have ye lost yer wits?”
Lavina’s blood ran cold, and she hoped her glare matched the violence in his. “Me family. Ye killed me family, and now ye’re lookin’ to finish the job. It’s why ye’ve taken her from me. Well, if that’s the case, then ye might as well do the same to me. I willnae return to me uncle. I willnae.”
“Lavina?” Maisie’s voice cut through the air like an arrow whizzing through the forest.
Lavina spun on her heels, her world stuttering to a halt. With every ounce of her strength sapped, she crumbled to the ground.
“What have I done?” she whimpered as Maisie fought back against the rough hands of the guards.
“Clearly, ye have trust issues,” the Laird muttered, motioning for the guards to stand down. “Still, I warned you.”
“Laird McGowan, please…” Lavina tried to protest, but the words failed her.
“Stephen, take Maisie to the blue room,” the Laird ordered. “I need a word alone with me wife.”
Stephen stepped up to Maisie and jerked his head. Her eyes widened with uncertainty. It was clear she didn’t want to leave Lavina’s side, not when things were looking so dire.
Still, Lavina had disobeyed. She’d stepped out of the room and accused her husband of horrendous things.
“Lavina?” Maisie whispered, as if Lavina would give her the go-ahead to leave.
“I’ll be all right,” Lavina said, praying that she wasn’t lying to her sister as she locked eyes with the Laird. “Now, go.”
Maisie darted down the hallway without saying a word.
Lavina lowered her head and waited until the silence settled. Her chest tightened as the Laird circled her.
“I told ye what would happen if ye leave the room.”
“What’s the blue room?” Lavina asked, the words clogging her throat as violent images flashed through her mind.
“Tell me why ye made such accusations,” he said, his voice steadier and calmer than she had expected. “Who were yer parents?”
“Me faither was Michael Lewis, and he was married to Patricia. I had a braither too, Fredrick. Do any of these names ring a bell?”
“Watch yer tone. I am showin’ mercy and restraint; I would suggest ye dinnae challenge me,” he warned, swooping in next to her, the murderous look in his eyes nearly scaring the wits out of her. “And to answer yer question, nay. The names dinnae ring a bell.”
“Then ye’re a liar.”
“Is that right?” he drawled, his voice just as calm and icy as ever.
If there was one thing Lavina understood, it was fear. Her uncle had instilled it deep into her bones.
“I’ve been called many names over the years, and that one hurts the most. I’d say between ye and I, there is a liar and there is a sinner. Ye tell me which one ye are. Now, get up.”
The Laird grabbed her under her arms and pulled her back to her feet. She hated that she had no strength to stand. No matter how much she willed her limbs to move, they refused to obey.
“I told ye, I promised ye, I swore to ye before God that I would protect ye. And now I see I’m goin’ to have to protect ye from yerself.”
Without warning, he scooped her up into his arms and threw her over his shoulder.
“Put me down. I’ll walk.”
“Ye have the tongue of a sailor, but I’d rather take me chances with the tempest than face yer ire,” he grunted, moving with ease out of the Great Hall and through the corridor like a phantom.
The servants all scrambled to the side, eager to clear a path for their Laird as he stormed past.
Lavina pounded her fists against his back, yet he did not release her. Before she knew it, they were back in the room, and the world was spinning once again. She landed on the soft mattress, the Laird’s steely glare pinning her in place.
“Ye will stay here this time. I’ll nae be made a fool of again.
I’m nae a murderer, but I’ve heard enough rumors about me, and I can tell when there’s nay point in trying to reason with someone.
Ye’ve made up yer mind about me, and that’s all there is to it.
Maybe one of these days, ye’ll realize that I am nae the monster ye made me out to be. ”