Chapter 4
4
Alyth had had no idea when she was hired at Leithmuir Castle that her work would be so diverse. Now she found herself serving the Laird and Davina at dinner, a task she was far better suited for than gardening. At least she knew the etiquette of a dining room, whereas she was completely clueless about growing vegetables and herbs.
The problem of her dress had been solved, since Maisie had told her that the Laird had come to see her to complain about Alyth’s attire.
When Alyth went to collect her new uniform, Maisie had smiled at her in a somewhat mystified fashion. “Well, I dinnae know what ye did tae the Laird,” she said, “but he was a’ in a flutter when he came here. He said he was shocked tae see one o’ his maid servants dressed in such an indecent way—his words, no’ mine, hen. He ordered that your dress should be finished as quickly as possible, an’ got another seamstress in tae help the first one.”
Alyth frowned. “Was he angry?” she asked. Her heart was beating nineteen to the dozen, for she did not want to be thrown out after she had only been in Laird Carrick’s employ for only a few days.
Maisie shook her head. “A wee bit, but he knew it wisnae your fault,” she answered. “Anyway, here it is.” She presented Alyth with a plain brown dress. “I wish ye health tae wear it, hen.” Then she smiled warmly and put her hands on Alyth’s shoulders. “Ye will dae well here, hen. The lassies a’ like ye, an’ I trust them.”
Alyth was genuinely pleased. The life of a servant was a hard one, but she had not reckoned with the camaraderie she would find amongst the others, and realised that it was something she had never experienced before. Ladies of her own rank of the social ladder tended not to form intimate friendships.
She could never imagine sitting around a table talking about the blacksmith’s daughter who became pregnant out of wedlock, or how handsome the minister’s son was. She looked forward to mealtimes, to the laughter, gossip and teasing; now she knew why servants’ gossip travelled so fast!
As well as that, she had never known how much fun it was to laugh at yourself, and have others laugh with you. If she had not been in the home of her deadliest enemy, she could actually say she was enjoying herself, but these moments of self-deprecating fun could not be allowed to divert her attention from her mission.
Her heart was pounding when she walked into the dining room and placed the food in its covered dishes on the table in front of them. Laird Carrick was sitting at the head of the table, and Davina was on his right. She had her little hand resting on his big one and was looking up at him with a soft smile on her face. Alyth had heard the deep rumble of the Laird’s voice just before she walked into the room, and although she could not make out his words, his tone was tender and affectionate. He was smiling down at Davina when Alyth walked in, but the smile disappeared as soon as he saw her.
“Is there anything else you need, M’Laird?” she asked politely.
“No, thank you,” he answered.
Alyth turned to leave, and he reached out to the meat pie to dish up for Davina, but she shook her head and tugged Alyth’s sleeve.
Surprised, Alyth turned to her. “Yes, Milady?” she said, smiling.
Davina, of course, said nothing, but she took the serving spoon from Lachlan’s hand and pointed to the pie. For a moment, Alyth hesitated, then she glanced at the Laird, who nodded.
She carefully cut a small slice of the pie for Davina, then lifted it with the spoon and put it on her plate. After that, she had to do the same with the green vegetables and cut a slice of bread for her. Alyth’s reward was a beaming smile from the little girl, and she returned it, her heart warming.
When she tried to leave the room for a second time, though, Alyth felt her sleeve being tugged yet again. She turned to see Davina holding up the book she had been reading the previous day.
She smiled. “We did not finish it, did we?” she asked. “Would you like me to read the rest of it to you before you go to bed?”
Davina nodded eagerly, and Alyth glanced up at the Laird for approval, but he was glaring at her suspiciously. Then Davina put her hands on her father’s again and looked up into his face. She said one word, “Please.”
Lachlan continued to frown at her for a moment, then he looked down at Davina, smiled and kissed her forehead. Alyth felt as though she was invading a private conversation, so she turned and walked out. Davina looked after her, smiling, and Lachlan thought it was the happiest he had seen her since her mother died.
An hour later, one of the other maids showed Alyth to Davina’s bedroom, and she stood outside the door for a while, trying to gather the courage to go inside. At last, she turned the handle and entered.
Davina was lying in bed already, clutching a rag doll, and the Laird was sitting beside the bed on a sturdy chair, but as soon as the maid entered he kissed Davina, then stood up and walked past her to leave the room.
She was very relieved; she found that when she was in the same room with him, it became hard to breathe. She hated him, yet somewhere deep down in her being she felt sorry for him, and she had no idea why. However, his presence made any room he was sitting in feel smaller, and Alyth felt a sensation of being suffocated.
Alyth sat down in the chair that the Laird had just vacated, then pulled Davina’s blankets up over her shoulders.
“To keep you cosy,” she said, smiling. “I can never sleep when I am cold.” She opened the book. “Now, where did we stop? Oh yes, the prince was just about to climb the castle wall so that he could rescue the princess from the dragon…”
She began to read, and mimed some of the expressions of the characters as she read the story. Presently, she felt Davina’s little hand stealing out from under the blanket to grasp hers. The little girl could say very few words, so she expressed herself with her hands and her smiles, and an occasional soft peal of laughter.
Alyth’s heart went out to her, while wishing that she herself had a child to love. This was a thought that had never occurred to her before, since she had no siblings of her own, and it astonished her.
Alyth came to the end of the book and saw that Davina had merrily gone to sleep. She gazed at the little girl for a while, loving her innocent beauty; her long golden eyelashes and eyebrows, tiny nose, cupid’s bow lips, all of which were completely relaxed in sleep. She was adorable.
She hoped that Davina never had the kind of nightmares that she had about her mother’s death, she would not wish those on a child. Her father, though? That was a different matter; she had no problem wishing nightmares on him at all!
Alyth stood up, tucked the blankets more securely around Davina, then kissed her forehead. “Goodnight, little one,” she whispered. She put the book back in the little bookcase and took a last look at Davina before opening the bedroom door.
Then she jumped, startled, as the Laird, who had been leaning against the doorpost, seemed to appear out of nowhere in front of her.
He gave her a grim smile and said, “I must talk with you.”
Laird MacAdams had sent out search parties far and wide when he realised that Alyth was missing, but so far, there had been neither hair nor hide of her seen. He swore that he would not give up, but the strain of not knowing what had happened to his precious daughter was too emotionally taxing. He was finding it hard to sleep, and had to resist the temptation to drown his sorrows in whisky; he had seen too many men take that route and be destroyed by it.
He had read and reread Alyth’s note till he could almost recite it by heart, and as he sat at his desk trying to concentrate on his estate management work he found himself reading it again.
“Da,” it read. He laughed at her pet name for him, which she had been calling him since she could only utter a syllable or two.
I need to leave you for a while. Please do not fret, I promise not to put myself in any danger. If for any reason danger comes to me, you know how well I can defend myself, thanks to you. I need to find the answer to some questions, and I cannot do that while sitting inside the castle doing nothing. I will soon be back, and hopefully with your blessing, no longer Laird Robertson’s intended.
Your ever-loving daughter,
Alyth
He stood up to look out of the window. It was late autumn, and the last few trees were almost bare, the harvest had almost finished and everywhere fruit, nuts, vegetables, and meat were being salted, dried, pickled and preserved for the harsh days of winter. Soon it would be the festive season, which he and Alyth would normally celebrate together, but the Laird would not celebrate this time. How could he when the light in his life had gone out?
This was normally his favourite time of year, when he could go out onto the tenants’ farms and hear their stories, distribute gifts, and generally reassure them that he would always look after them. However, this year it was different.
Usually Alyth came with him because she had the common touch; she could talk to and bond with anyone, no matter how far up or down the social ladder they were, and the tenants loved her. Now that she would no longer be with him, he felt dispirited and depressed, and he had no idea how he would explain her disappearance.
Presently, there was a firm knock at the door and a manservant ushered Laird Robertson into the room. The two men shook hands, and Laird MacAdams tried to force his gloomy reflections out of his mind. They must have shown in his face, however, for Robertson frowned at him and said, “Brooding will do you no good at all, my friend. You need to take action. Go out there and find her, for god’s sake!”
Laird MacAdams rounded on the other man, his face a mask of fury. “Do you not think I have tried, Jimmy? My men have been out looking everywhere. No one has seen her,”
“Then you have not been looking hard enough, Colin,” Robertson answered grimly. “Or using the right methods.” He moved in front of the other man and gripped his upper arms, then shook him slightly. “I have had my men looking too, and we have traced her to Carrick’s lands, but after a while we lost her trail.
We need more men. We need them swarming like ants all over the Carrick lands, and even our own estates. We do not know what’s in her mind. She might have gone in a direction we have not thought of exploring.”
Laird MacAdams sat down in a chair by the fire and put his head in his hands, wishing that Robertson would go away and leave him alone.
However, Laird Robertson was not ready to let go so easily.
“Remember when the Carricks tried to conquer this castle? They almost succeeded; they murdered dozens of your guards and even your wife, for god’s sake! They stole some heirlooms from your family that you will likely never get back. They are absolute savages, and they have become so powerful now that they are almost invincible.
Colin, do you not care? Do you not think it’s past time to raise an army against them before they take over all the land from here to the coast? Do you want to see everything you have worked for all these years destroyed by a bunch of barbarians? What do you think Adaira would say?”
He paused for a moment, expecting Laird MacAdams to answer, but he said nothing, merely gazing morosely into the fire.
“If you want my men to join you,” Robertson said. “We will be happy to do so and fight by your side because what is in your best interest is in ours too.”
Colin MacAdams sighed. “I have no wish to go to war, Jimmy. I have seen enough fighting in my life. All I want is for the Carricks to keep their distance, and to get my daughter back.”
Robertson helped himself to a glass of whisky from the carafe on the Laird’s desk. It was a rather rude thing to do, since he had not even asked for permission, but Laird MacAdams was past caring.
“Do you want to lose all your possessions to the Carricks?” Robertson asked.
He sat down opposite MacAdams to look at him, his shrewd eyes passing over the Laird’s face. The MacAdams Clan was one of the wealthiest in the area, except for the Carricks, and Robertson had to make Colin MacAdams see that he was the best chance he had of recovering his daughter.
He had as much to lose as the other Laird did—in fact, he had more. Alyth was a passport to success for him. With her by his side, the possibilities were endless.
By hook or by crook, he was going to bring Alyth MacAdams back and marry her. He knew that she had no wish to be his wife, but he did not care. She would obey her father, and nothing would matter when there was a ring on her finger.
“Colin,” he said. “I think you should post a reward. Perhaps that will bring in some news of her.”
“Do you think I have not already done that?” MacAdams asked furiously. “There have been no sightings of her—none at all.”
Robertson stood up and sighed in frustration. He looked at Colin MacAdams, who was staring miserably into the fire, and said, “You know that the Carricks will be coming for you soon. Peace has lasted for years now, but I doubt it will last for much longer. That is one of the reasons why we have to retrieve Alyth. If the Carricks get hold of her they could use her as a bargaining chip, and you could lose everything, Colin, everything. Your lands, this castle—everything. We must crush them before they can react.”
Laird MacAdams had been in the depths of depression, and the will to persevere in the search for Alyth had left him for a while, but now it came back with a vengeance.
“We start first thing tomorrow,” he said, pouring himself a glass of whisky. “I will find Alyth or die trying!”