Chapter 7 #14
Having exhausted her search, she spent the next hour pacing the room, trying to think.
The water on the table grew cold, but the thought of washing her hands and face when she might be fighting for her life directly afterward seemed terribly laughable.
Why on earth would Ceann’s uncle kidnap her?
And have men killed to do so? She knew the Highlands could be a brutal place, but such an act seemed too personal.
Was there a family feud of some sort? He seemed to believe she was Ceann’s woman, in one way or another.
Aye, it must be a feud. He must think he had stolen her away from Ceann; an act of petty revenge.
It was the only thing that made sense, wasn’t it?
She wondered if Ceann had arrived home yet and found her missing.
Please, please come for me! Surely his honor would demand he take back what was stolen from him.
But, then again, she wasn’t really his woman.
Maybe Ceann would have the last laugh when his uncle realized he had taken a lass that meant nothing to him.
Only, she began to realize, she desperately wanted to mean something to him.
If only… no, Ella. Don’t even start. That man will surely break your heart if you let yourself fall for him.
And right now you have your own life to save.
When finally a knock sounded at the door and a maid entered, she jumped. Then her heart began to pound nervously. She swallowed, gathering her courage again. Now she would perhaps find out exactly why she was here.
She was led back to the hall where she had entered, but now she took the time to look at her surroundings.
The room was replete with fine carpets strewn on the floor, and rich furnishings.
The table was set with silver, and the food looked rich and well-prepared.
Her gaze went to the dais, where the head table had been set up.
Seated there was the man, Ceann’s uncle, who held her captive.
He smiled at her and gestured to the seat beside him, but his smile was anything but warm.
“Come, sit down. You must be hungry after your journey my dear.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, but walked to the proffered seat, head still held high in protest. She sat down and eyed the food on the trencher before her. A lavish meal, to be sure, but what guarantee that it wasn’t poisoned? She turned instead to glare at the man beside her.
“I demand to know by what right you hold me here.”
“I don’t concern myself with rights, lass. You’re here because I ordered it.”
She gave him an icy glare, then said in an overly-sweet voice, “Will you at least give me your name, so that I know how to address you?”
“I’m sure that you already know who I am wench, but if you insist on pretending otherwise, you may call me Lord Ross.” He nodded toward the man seated at his other side. “My son, Hugh.”
She looked over at Hugh, but knew immediately she would have no help from him. He was a younger version of his father, complete with the cold eyes and grim mouth. Turning back to Ross and gritting her teeth, she tried again. “Then please tell me, Lord Ross, why I find myself here, against my will.”
He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. Cold. The man was so cold. “There were rumors…” He paused, tapping his chin as if in thought.
“What rumors?” she snapped. She was quickly becoming annoyed with his game.
“My nephew is a very wealthy and very powerful man, there are many who would seek to have such things for themselves.”
“And you think I’m one of them? And so you had me kidnapped? Your nephew is a man full grown; don’t you think he can judge such things for himself?”
His eyes raked over her body, narrowing in appreciation, making her want to cringe in disgust.
“Ah, but we all know how beauty and lust can blind a man to all else. I wouldn’t take the chance with our clan’s holdings. You see, I promised his father before he died that I would always look out for the boy.”
“I have no interest in lands or wealth.”
“Of course you do, what lady wouldn’t want to snare such a prize? What woman wouldn’t want her sons to inherit such wealth and power?”
Ella glared at him again. She was beginning to understand the motive for her kidnapping, and it was distressingly obvious.
It wasn’t a family feud after all, but greed, plain and simple.
If Ceann should die without producing a male heir, his uncle was probably next in line to inherit everything, or his cousin was.
But Hugh and Ceann looked to be of a similar age; and if he were eager to get his hands on Ceann’s land and wealth, it was doubtful that this uncle would let Ceann live much longer.
If he were to marry and have a legitimate son before whatever plan they were hatching was complete…
that must be why she was here, Ross thought there was something between them.
She wondered how many hapless women had caught Ceann’s eye and ended up here in the hands of his scheming uncle.
She rallied her temper, suddenly outraged for Ceann, who even with his constant growling and lack of good manners, was looking more and more like a saint compared to the man who sat next to her.
“I think you misunderstand, sir. I am a temporary guest at Castle Tulloch. I have no designs on its laird. It was purely by chance that I was there at all.”
Ross gave a short laugh. “You’re lying! Why would you not be? You lie to protect the very man you seek to find your fortune with!”
Ella sucked in a breath. Not only was this man dangerous and volatile, she began to feel that he was also not entirely sane.
In the next moment she was sure of it. He turned and grabbed her fiercely by the arms. His fingers sunk into her flesh and he shook her until it was all she could do not to cry out in pain.
Only her anger and pride kept her from doing so.
She bit her tongue to make sure she did not make a sound.
He wanted her to weep and beg, she knew it.
“Tell me the truth girl! Are you secretly wed? Has he had you?” He seemed to search her face for answers. “Perhaps you already carry his child?”
She said nothing, kept her face carefully blank, and so he threw her roughly to the floor.
She landed hard on her backside, pain shooting up through her body.
But still, she managed to look up at Ross and glare at him with all the ferocity she could muster.
Aye, his evil was driven by a deeper madness all right.
He abruptly seemed to come back to himself, brushing at his surcoat as if nothing had happened.
“Very well then. We’ll finish this later, as you wish.
I have more important business to tend to first. Morag!
” The maid appeared in front of the dais and gave a small, timid curtsy.
“Take our guest to her room for the evening. It seems she’s not hungry.
” He sat down and leaned back in his chair, picking up the goblet of wine in front of him, and taking a long swallow.
“And Morag, don’t forget to lock and bolt the door, lest she wander at night and get lost, or, er… fall down the stairs.”
Ella looked back to catch his hateful smirk as she followed Morag back to her chamber.
Once there, she sat down shakily on the bed while the maid lit the fire and readied the room.
She breathed deeply, trying to calm herself so that she could keep her wits about her.
She glanced at the still open door, noting the guard standing in the hall.
Perhaps if she was careful, she might get some information from the maid. It was worth a try, at least.
She put her hands to her face, feigning the kind of weak, womanly distress she had never known and didn’t care to.
“I don’t understand, Morag, why I’ve been brought here.
I was merely a guest at Tulloch Castle. What possible harm is there in that?
I can’t think why one lass would be such a threat to the ambitions of these men.
Oh merciful God, what does he mean to do with me? ”
The maid turned to look at her, and Ella thought she could also see the other woman’s pity for her plight. “One lass has been the downfall of many a great man”, she said thoughtfully. “Lord Ross is ambitious. You aren’t the first lass he’s brought here who has the look of her, you know.”
Ella was genuinely confused now. “The look of whom?”
The maid looked at her like she was daft. “The girl in the legend”, she said with authority. “You know, flaxen hair, eyes of blue… Edith found the parchment years ago, hidden away behind the mantle. She can’t read of course, but Thomas can, and so we know all about the one who is meant….”
She broke off abruptly, as if she had thought better of talking about it, and a look of fear came over her face as she glanced towards the door, realizing what she had already said.
Ella had begun to suspect the perhaps this Morag was none too sound in the head, either.
Wonderful! Was she trapped in a manor full of lunatics? Some of them murderous?