Chapter Nine
His strong arms encircled her, catching her before she landed on the floor. His motion still took them down, but he cushioned her body in his and suffered the brunt of the fall. Rob rolled them on the floor and they came to a stop in front of the hearth.
‘Are you hurt?’ he asked, helping her back up, but never quite taking his hands from her.
And for one moment, God forgive her, she wished he would never let her go.
Allowing herself that momentary lapse in reason, she gathered her hair that had tangled around them both in her hands and tugged it free.
‘No,’ she said, easing herself away from him. ‘My thanks for catching me.’
‘Mayhap you have walked enough for today?’
Rob poured ale in two cups this time and handed one to her.
Lilidh sat on the chair and sipped from the cup.
Her thoughts were clear now, more so than they had been these last days and she wanted to know so much about what was going on and how this all had come to pass.
Did she dare ask? She waited until he had approached the table covered in letters and documents before trying.
‘So, you still have not told me what this is all about, Rob.’ She sipped once more and dared a look at him. ‘And why me? Why now?’
That needy, wistful part of her that wanted him to declare his undying love and that this was all just to get her back pushed its way to the surface of her feelings, leaving her more vulnerable than she’d felt in a long time. And considering that the man before her had
cruelly disavowed her the last time they’d met, that revealed much to her. He took in and released a deep breath, but the tiny twitch of his left brow gave him away before the lie left his lips.
Much as it had all those years ago.
Before his words tore her world and heart apart.
‘We are a poor clan and need the gold your father will pay for your safe return.’
‘And from the MacGregors, as well, since you thought me still married to Iain?’ she asked, probing for the truth. A flash of sympathy and pity crossed his gaze and then it was gone. For her? For her loss? She knew not.
‘Both are prosperous, so, yes,’ he answered, the twitch giving away his reply before he spoke.
Did he even realise he did that? Gave himself away so clearly?
Or had no one other than she recognised it?
Most likely no one paid as much attention to his face and expressions as she had during their time together.
‘Do you think my father will pay for my release?’
This was the pivotal question, for Lilidh understood exactly where she stood in her father’s regard and what he must do against this insult. And paying for her return was not what he would do. Did Rob remember what he’d learned from the Beast of the Highlands from his fostering years in her family?
When silence was the only thing that hung in the space between them, she knew he did remember how her father responded to insults or threats.
Lilidh drank down the rest of the ale and placed the cup back on the small table.
The exhaustion of the day and the toll of the last several weighed down on her then.
There was one more question she must ask.
‘What is to become of me here, Rob?’ She was going to add ‘before my father arrives’, but did not. He began to say something and stopped, then once more. Finally he spoke.
‘You are under my protection now,’ he replied.
‘And what must I do to keep that protection?’
Once again, he paused and then tried to say several things at the same time. ‘I have said it, so it continues until—’
‘Do I work in the kitchens on the morrow?’ she asked. She could never resist poking at him or her brother.
‘I think that is best.’ Ah, an answer. Her leg would not be able to manage those stairs day after day. If that was going to be her fate here, then she really must throw herself on his mercy.
‘If I am to work there, is there a place on the lower floor where you can hold me prisoner? I cannot...’ Her hand slipped down to touch her thigh where the most damage had been done.
‘No. You sleep here.’ She was startled at the intensity of his tone. So that would be the way of it. He did intend to bed her and was just waiting for a time to do so.
Perhaps now would be that time? She swallowed her fear and nodded. It was hard enough for her to bring up her maimed leg and ask for an accommodation due to it, but she would not raise the subject again with him.
Not certain if she should move or if he would, she waited for his orders.
She did not plan to allow him to do this without a struggle, for more than her honour would be in shambles if he did.
She knew him, had watched him grow into the man he was now, and in spite of the miserable way in which he had tossed her aside before, there was honour at his core.
Taking her against her will would tear him apart.
Regardless if it was for the good of his clan or to prove something to his cousin.
It would tear him apart.
She raised her chin and closed her eyes. If she had to fight him off to keep them both intact, she would. But Lilidh prayed it would not come to that.
‘Go to bed!’ he barked out in a brusque tone.
She jumped even though she tried not to. Rob filled another cup with ale and turned away from her. When his attentions were elsewhere, she limped over to the bed and climbed up on top of it.
‘Lilidh,’ he said softly. The devil come to call? She met his gaze and waited on him. ‘Get undressed. Take your rest without worry this night.’
Another reprieve? Would he sleep in the same bed and not touch her?
Her body ached. Her head ached. Every part of her screamed out in complaint, so she decided to take him at his word.
She loosened the gown and pulled it over her head.
The stockings remained in place mostly because her feet were chilled.
The shift for obvious reasons. Tugging the thick bedcovers free, she climbed in under them and settled on one of the fluffy pillows.
By the time her head touched that pillow, sleep was overtaking her.
A fine defence she would raise if Rob did indeed try anything. Would sleep ward him off one more time?
* * *
The birds of morning sung her from her sleep. Sunlight poured through the window high up on the wall of Rob’s chamber.
Rob’s chamber?
Rob?
Lilidh opened her eyes and found the bed empty save for her. Although an imprint dented the pillow next to the one where she’d slept, the bed’s surface was cool to her touch. If Rob had slept next to her, he was long gone.
Pushing her hair away from her face, she slid up against the headboard of the bed and glanced around the chamber. From the amount of sun and the angle of the light, she guessed it must be nigh to mid-morn. And she was still in bed?
A tray holding a small pot and a wrapped bundle sat next to her on the table.
Touching the pot, Lilidh found it yet warm, though not hot.
Unwilling to leave the snug cocoon of bedcovers and also reluctant to allow the food and drink to go to waste, she decided to remain where she was until summoned once more into the fray.
Or to the kitchens, whichever happened first.
The betony tea warmed and soothed her as it had before and the bread and cheese filled her belly.
Soon, she grew restless sitting in the bed, so she slid out and stood while her leg became accustomed to standing.
A clean, though plain, gown and a clean shift lay on the chair waiting for her.
Dressing quickly, Lilidh found herself with nothing to do and nowhere to go.
Footsteps down the long corridor drew her attention. From the sound, she thought it might be Beathas. When the door opened, it was the old woman who entered, carrying a basket on her arm.
‘You look better this morn, dearie,’ she said with a smile. ‘Let me have a look at your head.’
She pointed at the chair, so Lilidh sat and let her examine the lump that felt less swollen now than yesterday. And each touch felt less sharp than it had even the night before. A good sign, she hoped.
‘Does your head still ache?’ Beathas asked her.
‘Not so much this morn.’ A few moments later, the examination was done.
‘How are the bruises?’ The old woman’s gaze softened as it fell on her neck and face.
Lilidh shrugged. As long as she did not press or explore them, she did not feel them. ‘’Tis well.’
A niggling feeling that Beathas thought Rob responsible for something more than he was bothered her again. The harsh treatment of Symon and his men caused the bruises—Beathas must know that because she saw to her needs from the first. But the woman’s sympathy spoke of something else.
Desperate to divert Beathas’s attention to the matter, she stammered out a question instead.
‘Why was I not summoned to the kitchens this morn? It must be quickly approaching midday,’ she said, accepting the brush from Beathas and beginning to tame the unruly curls on her head now that the dressing had been removed.
‘The laird has given new orders,’ she began. ‘You are to remain here after all.’
‘He has? I am?’ Rob had seemed resolute last night, and now?
‘Aye. You are to stay in this chamber and the corridor. He said you can walk the length of it if need be,’ Beathas explained. The woman watched her closely as she explained Rob’s new commands about her. Did she think him trying to assuage the guilt from other actions by being kinder now?
‘Did anyone argue with him when he ordered this change?’ she asked. Surely Symon and his sister would.
‘Did not listen to them,’ she said with a chuckle. ‘He brushed their words aside and said there were too many ways for you to escape through the kitchens. Safer to keep you in here, where no one could get to you and you could no’ get far.’