Chapter 4
What made her cry out like that?
Her breathy whimpers and strained pleas niggled at him, along with the image of her beautiful face twisting in pain. How she had grasped the bedlinens, writhing not in pleasure, but in some unknown agony.
At a glance, the two could be confused, and with eyes closed, the sounds she had made could have stirred a man’s desire. Instead, he was left with a burning fury.
Nightmares like that daenae come out of nowhere.
Bad dreams could be conjured from nothing, certainly, but such visceral nightmares… those were rooted in reality, which was what made them so frightening.
“Me Laird?”
The shy voice distracted him from his thoughts and his journey to his study, where he meant to draft a cutting letter to Laird Ainsley.
Killian halted as the maid hurried to catch up to him. The same one he had charged with Ailis’s care.
“What?” he asked curtly.
The maid curtseyed, her head bowed. “Did the lass drink the barley tea? I had Paisley add some herbs to soothe her, but I think she thought I poisoned it.”
Killian thought of the cup he had pressed into Ailis’s hands, the warmth of her soft skin against the roughness of his.
“Aye, she drank it.” He paused. “Why would she think ye’d poisoned it?”
“I wasnae very friendly,” the maid replied with a grimace. “I’ve felt so guilty ever since. Ye ken I daenae have a mean bone in me body, but I didnae ken if I was supposed to be nice or nae. Who is she, me Laird?”
Killian considered his answer. It wouldn’t go down well if the castle heard that there was an Ainsley in one of the nicer guest chambers, not after the devastation of last week’s battle.
I wasnae the only one who lost someone.
Indeed, the clan had barely begun to grieve the loss of his father. Beyond giving the man a dignified burial, Killian hadn’t started to grieve at all. He didn’t have the time or strength to spare on sorrow. Rather, he meant to honor his father by fulfilling the final promise he had made to him.
“Ye must promise to take care of these lands and these people. Ye must be the one to secure peace, whether ye do it by sword or by scheme. And keep yer braither safe.”
He had already failed to keep one part of that promise when Fraser had been kidnapped by Ainsley’s soldiers. But with Ailis secured in his castle, he fully intended to fix that mistake. And, perhaps, use Ailis to secure that peace, too.
“Lady Ailis Lyall,” he told the maid, choosing honesty.
The clan and castle might not like what he had done at first, but once he executed his plan, they would come to realize the benefit to them all.
One couldn’t fight a monster like Laird Ainsley the ordinary way. To deal with him, a man needed to stoop to his level, getting his hands just as dirty.
The maid clamped a hand over her mouth. “Laird Ainsley’s youngest?”
“Aye,” Killian replied, before walking away. He had made it no more than ten steps before he paused and glanced back. “And treat her as ye would any other guest. If I want that to change, I’ll tell ye.”
For he was not like Laird Ainsley and Murdock Lyall. He would not blame their crimes on Ailis, punishing her in their stead. Not unless they gave him no other choice.
Stretching out like a cat before a fireplace, Ailis gave a contented squeak at the strange pleasure of unfurling muscles that were waking up for a new day. She hadn’t slept so well in years.
It’s so… peaceful.
Her mind wasn’t fully awake yet to remind her how ridiculous that sentiment was. She wasn’t on a lovely excursion somewhere; she was a prisoner in the enemy’s castle, regardless of how comfortable the bed was or how lulling the sound of distant surf might be or how… safe she might have felt.
Here, there was little chance of her brother or father hammering on her door to accuse her of something, or of walking to the door to find it locked. It certainly wouldn’t be a shock if she found the door here locked, for at least it was expected in her situation.
What time is it?
She searched the room for a clock, but found none. Judging by the hazy autumn light that spilled in through the drapes, it was late morning, the sun not at its peak yet.
A gasp escaped her lips. “What a lazy thing I am,” she murmured to herself with a small measure of delight.
At Castle Ainsley, she would have been dragged out of bed if she had dared to sleep past dawn. The next evening, rounded spikes would have been placed under her mattress so she could not sleep comfortably, as punishment for her slothfulness.
Covering her mouth as she yawned, she crawled to the edge of the large bed. When her hand touched the spot where Killian had sat the night before, she paused.
“Did that truly happen?” she muttered.
Why was he watchin’ me sleep? How did I nae hear him come in? What was his reason for comin’ into me chambers and just… sittin’ there?
She didn’t know which question unnerved her more.
Still, at the very least, she hoped she had not snored. Having never shared a bed or a room with anyone, she wasn’t sure if she was a graceful sleeper.
“Ye’ll stay mine for as long as I please…”
Her breath caught as she remembered his dark gaze taking in the diaphanous fabric of her nightdress. The rumble of his voice as he had said he had plenty to think about.
Heat flooded her face, prompting her to press the cool back of her hands to her feverish cheeks.
At that moment, someone cleared their throat.
Ailis started, her heart lurching as her eyes darted to the noise. Silly of her, really, to think she might be left alone in her new chambers.
A face appeared around the high back of one of the armchairs that sat by the fire. Pale cheeks were tinged with an equally embarrassed shade of pink, honey brown eyes squinted against the morning light, a grimace on freckled lips.
“I’m Paisley,” the woman said, raising a limp hand. “The healer. The Laird asked me to take a look at ye, but I didnae want to wake ye. In hindsight, I should’ve announced meself sooner, but I suppose I dozed off too.”
Ailis stared at her in abject horror. “Does nay one knock in this castle?” she croaked. “Is there a list for people to take turns watching me sleep?”
“I really am sorry, me Lady,” Paisley said, though her tone lacked the depth of a true apology. “If I can just check that ye’re in good health, I’ll be out of yer hair in nay time. Then, ye can eat yer breakfast in peace.”
She gestured to the table by the windows, morning sunlight casting a soft glow over a veritable feast: a silver tray laden with fresh fruits, cheeses, meats, breads, currant-studded fritters, and even a slice of dark, rich fruitcake.
Ailis’s annoyance at being disturbed again evaporated at the sight of that hearty breakfast. “All of… all of that is for me? Or is it for us to share?”
The healer raised an eyebrow in surprise. “I broke me fast hours ago, me Lady. That’s all for ye.”
Her tone remained difficult to decipher, polite but with a slight bite to it. She looked tired, dark crescents painting shadows under her eyes. Perhaps that was why she was being so aloof.
“Are ye all right?” Ailis asked, a little hesitant.
The healer gave a humorless laugh and rested her hands on her hips. “Nay, me Lady. Nae really.”
This time, she did not bother to hide the bitterness in her voice, her hostility bleeding into her expression. She looked at Ailis as one might look at a pile of muck.
And in her flimsy nightdress, Ailis felt rather afraid for a moment.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “Did I… say somethin’ wrong?”
Was she supposed to invite the healer to share the feast with her? Was it because the healer had been awake for hours while Ailis had been fast asleep?
Paisley’s brown eyes flashed with anger.
“Are ye that much of a dolt that ye cannae figure it out?” she scoffed.
“It’s nae somethin’ ye said, me Lady, but somethin’ ye did.
Or rather, somethin’ yer family did. So, aye, I’m none too happy about havin’ to serve an Ainsley.
Ye’ll have to forgive me if I’m nae me usual, cheery self—I daenae have so much to be merry about, at present. ”
Ailis could have smacked herself. The peaceful night’s rest had clearly addled her brain.
Of course, the healer wasn’t feeling so friendly when, just a week ago, her father had started a battle that had ended with the death of their Laird. Who would be friendly toward her in such circumstances?
“I’m sorry,” was all she could offer.
“Aye, I bet ye are, now that ye’re in our castle,” Paisley muttered.
“As far as I’m concerned, ye should be gettin’ the slops we feed the pigs for breakfast—after the pigs have had their fill, at that.
And ye’d still be eatin’ better than what they’re feedin’ the…
man I care for at yer castle. If he’s still breathin’, that is. ”
As far as Ailis knew, there was only one man in the dungeons of Castle Ainsley. Her father wasn’t interested in taking prisoners, preferring to kill as many MacNairn men as possible. He didn’t much care about interrogations and learning about the enemy.
But Fraser was different. His capture was a purposeful tactic, designed to torment Clan MacNairn without having to raise a sword. And if he gave up a few secrets in the meantime, that was just a bonus.
“Ye ken Fraser?” Ailis asked.
Paisley seemed to freeze, her tired eyes widening. “Ye ken Fraser?” She shook her head. “Of course, ye daenae. Ye probably just heard yer men gloatin’ about capturin’ him.”
“I certainly didnae,” Ailis protested, climbing out of bed in indignation. “I ken him, and I ken ye. Ye’re his Paisley. Ye have to be, unless this is an odd coincidence.”
The healer was all Fraser had been able to talk about while he ate the food Ailis had sneaked to him. Ailis’s heart had ached to hear him speak of his beloved, lamenting the fact that he might never see her again.
“I snuck food to him when nay one was watchin’,” she explained.
“I stayed with him until he’d finished what I brought, so I could take the bowl back to the kitchens and nay one would realize what I’d done.
We talked while he ate. Rather, I listened while he talked about ye.
He even asked if I could send ye a letter.
If I’d kent that yer Laird would kidnap me and bring me here, I’d have given Fraser paper and a quill without hesitation. ”
Across the room, Paisley braced her hand against the armrest of the chair, a little unsteady on her feet. “Was he alive when ye left?”
“Aye,” Ailis replied. “I saw him a few hours before yer Laird kidnapped me. He could probably use yer talents for his bruises, but he’s otherwise unharmed. And… I think his heart is a little sore, missin’ ye. It didnae take me long to realize how much he loves ye.”
Paisley sagged against the chair, her eyes closing. “He’s alive…”
“I did me best to keep him that way,” Ailis said. “Me braither locked me up the first time I was caught feedin’ him, but there are ways in and out of me chambers that he doesnae ken about. I refused to let him starve.”
Lifting her sorrowful gaze, Paisley gave a small smile. “Thank ye.” Her breath caught. “Ye daenae ken how much it means to me, to hear that he’s alive and… that someone had been takin’ care of him.”
Ailis took a hesitant step forward. “I daenae deserve yer gratitude, Paisley. I should be thankin’ ye for nae killin’ me in me sleep. I wouldnae have blamed ye if ye had.”
“Alas, I’ve sworn an oath to keep people alive,” Paisley replied with a rasping laugh.
“Och, well, consider me grateful for that.” Ailis smiled nervously.
She wished she had done more for Fraser. Slipped him a key instead of bread and venison, perhaps.
I was too afraid of the repercussions. I’m so so sorry.
But she kept that to herself.
She folded her arms across her chest to maintain some semblance of dignity.
Really, what had the maid been thinking, giving her a sheer nightdress—for the dropping temperatures, if not for unexpected late-night visits from unbelievably handsome lairds and morning intrusions from brokenhearted healers.
“If the Laird sent ye because of the bruise I complained about, I’ll be just fine,” Ailis said. “It’s just tender. I’d only be wastin’ yer time when there’s nothin’ wrong with me.”
Paisley frowned. “Nay, me Lady. He sent me to help with yer nightmares. I made a brew for ye last night, before I kent who ye are, but it wasnae meant to aid with nightmares. That requires somethin’ stronger.”
“Well, whatever ye put in the tea worked marvelously,” Ailis insisted, a prickly heat rising from her chest. “I didnae have any bad dreams once I drank it. Besides, me nightmare was nothin’. Who wouldnae have a little nightmare after bein’ kidnapped, ye ken?”
Paisley eyed her curiously. “Still, I’d like to do me duty and make ye another brew. I cannae do it without examinin’ ye properly. While I’m at it, I can take a look at the bruise ye mentioned.”
“Honestly, there’s nay need.” Ailis rushed forward to grab the dress that the maid had laid out for her. “I’m perfectly fine. In fact, the only thing I want to do is see the Laird. Do ye think ye could take me to him?”
Paisley shrugged. “Aye, I can, but he’ll say the same thing—that ye need to be examined.”
“And I shall insist that I am perfectly fine,” Ailis replied, pulling the simple woolen dress over her head.
But her resolve faltered as she realized that the maid had picked a dress two sizes too small.
From a worn leather pouch with a drawstring opening, Paisley pulled a folded length of fabric and flashed a warmer smile. “I have a needle and thread, me Lady, and a knack for makin’ things fit. I promise, I willnae try to stitch anythin’ other than yer dress.”
“Thank ye,” Ailis gasped.
After all, for the conversation she planned to have with Killian, she couldn’t afford any distraction. And feeling like she was about to be squeezed in two by her own clothing was not conducive to concentration.
By luncheon, Laird MacNairn, ye’ll have agreed to me release. For Fraser’s sake, if nae me own.