Chapter 7 #2
His face turned bright red, and he stood up, pushing his chair back with such force, it fell with a crash. “Scotland is defeated. We can keep our holdings if we bow down to the English, but if we do not, we will be persecuted and stripped of our property. Now, raise your drinks. To England.”
MacKinnon’s men stood up. “To England.”
Callum, a trusted MacLaren guard, bent and whispered something into Jannet’s ear. She blinked slowly at Maeve and raised her glass. Maeve did the same, and once her clan followed, they all mumbled, “To England.”
The captain of MacLaren’s guard hurried down the aisle between the tables, followed by a thin, dirty young man Maeve recognized as Duncan.
“My lady, Duncan has news of our laird for ye.”
Duncan bowed low. “My lady.”
Maeve smiled, but her heart raced. Duncan looked grief-stricken. “What news do ye have?”
“First, I wanted to tell ye, Laird MacLaren saved me life. He was a brave man.”
Jannet rushed to Maeve’s side.
“Was? Are ye saying Iain is dead?” A large rock lodged in Maeve’s stomach, but she searched her mind, her soul, and the connection between her and her brother was still solid.
She stood up on shaky legs and gazed at Jannet, who wrapped her arm around Maeve’s shoulders.
“I don’t believe it. He isn’t dead. I would know if something happened to him.
” She speared Duncan with a quelling look.
“Did ye see him fall? Did ye see his life leave him?”
“Nae. He told me to run and I did, but when I looked back, he lay motionless on the ground. The lowland traitor, an officer of the English army, was laughing as he and his men walked away from the laird.”
Maeve’s entire body shook. She fisted her hands. “Why dinnae ye go back? Why did ye leave him?”
“My lady, I tried, but the Scottish army had fled, and the English were hunting them down like boars. My only thought was to survive so that I may tell you the news.”
“You did the right thing, Duncan,” Donal said, and looked at Maeve.
“I have been receiving news all this day. The battle was over before it began. The prince’s army never stood a chance, my lady.
” He glanced down at his boots and back up and whispered, “Iain would want you to be strong in this. Ye must lead by example.”
Jannet squeezed Maeve’s sinking shoulders so hard that without her, Maeve would have fallen to the ground. Gathering all her inner resources, Maeve forced her shaky legs to keep her upright. She gazed around the great hall where her people sat or stood graven-faced, some weeping openly.
Fiona held her cup up to the captain of MacKinnon’s guard as if in a toast before emptying it in one swallow. She tipped her cup at Leah, who was standing holding another plate of bannock. “More wine and ale.”
Leah’s tears rolled down her face unimpeded. She lifted her head, threw a knife-filled glare at the woman, and left the hall.
Maeve couldn’t help smiling inwardly at that. She wasn’t coming back.
Her heart told her Iain wasn’t dead, and without proof, she refused to believe it. Eyeing Fiona, Maeve noted her gaze locked with the guard’s. The woman was not to be trusted, and by all that was holy, when Iain came back, he would not be marrying her.
***
Abby noted the curiosity in the man’s expression.
He wouldn’t swallow just any silly story even if she could come up with one.
Although he was wounded—and wearing an old blanket—he stood before her in regal splendor.
His eyes, dark as a moonless night, penetrated her soul. He would know the instant she lied.
She followed his gaze down her front. Darn. She should have put on her shirt and the vest, but she had been so busy and too tired to think about them . . . until now.
She plucked the shirt down from the rafter and quickly pulled it on, and stepping back, she slipped the white vest on, pinning it closed. She drew the skirt’s drawstring round her waist as tight as she could. She didn’t want it falling around her ankles anytime soon.
He’d been watching her the whole time with an expression she had no way of reading. “Who are you?”
He raised his brows. “I am Iain MacLaren, laird of the Dorpol MacLarens.”
Great, Abby thought. Why couldn’t you be a nobody?
She turned and collected the blanket of food, unfolded it, and broke off a piece of bread. She offered it to him. “Sit there and eat.”
He took it but didn’t put it into his mouth. “I want to know who ye are now.”
“I’m, um . . . Abigail Davis.”
“Abigail Davis. I dinnae know that name. Why were ye out on the moor?”
Abby didn’t usually like being called by her full name, but the way he said Abigail, she figured she could get used to it.
“Abigaiel?”
“Ah, I came from America and was supposed to meet my grandmother, but I became lost.”
“America is a far from here. How did ye get lost?”
Think, Abby. How did you get lost? She took a bit of bread and chewed as she tried to come up with a believable story.
“I had a seat in a coach, but when we stopped at an inn, I must have fallen asleep and the driver left without me. I walked the road the way we had been traveling, but when I heard shouting in the distance, I followed the sound, hoping to get help. I didn’t know there was a battle raging and I got scared.
So, I kept my head down and hoped I wouldn’t be caught while I waited it out. ”
He sat down on the bed and took a bite of the bread, and then another, and soon stuffed the lot in his mouth. After washing it down with water, he held out his hand. “More, and some of that cheese.”
“Please?”
He eyed Abby, and for a moment, she thought he was going to order her to give him the food, but he smirked. “Please.”
Once he’d finished eating, he said, “Why did ye save me?”
“The English chased their enemy off the moor, but I stayed hidden in case they came back and during that time, I saw you move. Once I knew you were alive, I couldn’t just leave you. That would have made me no better than a murderer.” She shrugged. “I had no choice but to drag you off the field.”
Iain frowned. “Others would have left me there.”
“I’m not others.”
“Naw, ye are not others.” He said the words slowly, gazing intently at her.
The way he said that had Abby worried. Did he really think she was some sort of witch? Once he regained his strength, what would he do?
She needed to change the subject. “You seem healthy enough now. Why were you unconscious for so long? Do you have another injury somewhere?”
“Naw.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Being struck on the skull with something extremely heavy probably had a lot to do with it.”
“Oh.” Abby stood up and felt his head. “You have quite a lump there but whatever hit you, it didn’t break the skin.” She stepped away. “You were lucky.”
“Aye.” His eyes grazed over her. “I was very fortunate.”
Standing up, he stomped his feet as if making sure his legs worked properly and flashed a smile. “And now it’s time for me to take my leave.”