Chapter Five
Lowri jerked awake at the sound of boots on the stairs.
Morning light streamed in through the bars.
She drew strength from it, but still, Lowri wrapped the plaid around her like a shield and braced for what was to come.
The door to her prison squealed open, and Cullen Macaulay rushed in.
His eyes roamed to the plaid and stayed there, so she ripped it off her shoulders and flung it at him.
He smiled at that and then came closer and crouched down, meeting her eye.
She could read nothing in his steady gaze, save curiosity.
No anger, no gloating or cruelty, just fathomless grey depths.
Lowri watched as his fingers worked the key in the shackles around her ankle and prised them open.
When his fingers brushed her flesh, she recoiled.
If he was offended by that, he didn’t show it.
‘There’s to be a reckoning today,’ he said.
‘What do you mean?’
He did not reply, just stared at her, and so all manner of horrors ran through Lowri’s mind. Were they going to drag her deep into the woods and hang her? It would be a degrading and painfully slow death, with the Macaulays watching.
‘Am I to die today?’ she blurted out, her voice wobbling.
‘Not if I can help it,’ muttered Cullen. Then he gave her a steely look. ‘You need to be clever about this, lass. Do as you are told and stay on my father’s good side.’
‘He doesn’t have a good side.’
Cullen rose, grabbed her by the arm and hauled her up. To Lowri’s shame, her stiff legs would not support her, and she stumbled. She would have fallen save for his strong arm holding her up. How she hated him for that.
‘Let go of me. I can walk by myself,’ she said.
‘No, else you’ll end up on your arse.’ Cullen took her forearm and snaked the other around her waist and propelled her forward in a steely grip, up the dank stairs of her prison and out into the sunshine.
Cold, fresh air washed over her, like water, and Lowri sucked in the smell of grass and trees and wood smoke.
Blinking in the dawn light, she was dragged through a huddle of low buildings towards an imposing tower house of grey stone.
There were few folk around, the place having barely stirred, and the few faces she saw were not friendly.
The woods behind the house whispered in the wind, and sheep bleated from the hills.
Life had been going on while she was mouldering in a hole in the ground like a corpse.
Lowri’s relief at being free was washed away in a flood of anger.
She risked a glimpse at her captor. The man with his arm around her was tall and lean, but broad-shouldered.
She squirmed against his grip, but it was unbreakable.
Veins stood out in his muscular forearm with the effort of restraining her.
Eventually, Cullen took his hand from her waist and ran his fingers through his hair in an agitated way.
It was brown and unremarkable save for where the sun caught blonde streaks in it.
‘Don’t fight me, lass. I am on your side,’ he said.
‘No, you are not,’ she replied.
‘Have it your own way.’ Cullen muttered a curse as he bundled her towards one of the low outbuildings.
She smelled manure and heard a horse whinny.
Cullen thrust her inside, and a reckless hope stirred.
She was in a stable. Perhaps they were going to put her on a horse and send her back home.
Oh, but hope was a kind of torture she would not succumb to, and judging by the grim look on Cullen Macaulay’s face, she would be a fool to do so.
Moments later, Griffin and Allard came in.
There was a scuffling noise, and a curse from outside, and suddenly, there was Donnan.
Two of Griffin’s thugs flung him at her feet.
Her friend was so filthy, and his face so swollen, she barely recognised him.
Blood oozed from a wound on his temple. He had once been almost handsome, someone a lass might look twice at.
And he had stolen a kiss but a few weeks ago, surprising her up against a tree in the woods around Fellscarp.
But now, she was ashamed of the irritation she had felt in the glare of his growing infatuation, for Donnan had been viciously beaten.
Lowri tore free of Cullen and threw herself down next to him. ‘What have they done to you?’
‘Forgive me, Lowri. I did not protect you,’ he gasped. There were leaves stuck in his hair, and his lips were split open and bleeding.
‘Donnan, there’s nothing to forgive,’ she gasped. She took his face in her hands. It was icy cold. ‘Where is Rory?’
‘He’s hurt, Lowri. He’s in a bad way, locked up, as I have been. I think his leg is broken, and he suffers.’ Donnan glanced up at Griffin and then stifled a sob with the back of his hand. He sniffed and rubbed his nose. ‘Have they hurt you?’ he said, not catching her eye.
‘No.’ It was a lie to salve his pride, for every bone in her body ached with cold, and her belly clenched with hunger. But Donnan would want to protect her, and he would be ashamed that he hadn’t. Lowri tightened her hold on her friend and rounded on Griffin.
‘You didn’t have to hurt him, or Rory.’
‘The lad will survive, and the other one hurt his leg falling from his horse while he tried to run. Nought to do with me.’
Allard snorted a laugh, and Lowri dug her nails into her palms to stop from scratching his eyes out.
Griffin leaned over the two of them. ‘You rascals tried to steal from me. I have every right to give the lad a beating. Just as I have every right to send you to the magistrate for judgment. And what will it be – the stocks, the whipping post or something more befitting the crime?’
‘Not punishment enough for what she tried to do,’ said Allard. ‘What about transportation to the colonies or a rope to adorn her bonnie neck?’
‘Be quiet, Allard,’ sneered Cullen. ‘They didn’t manage to steal anything, and she is but a lass.’
‘Aye, but her companions are not. Why should we release them to steal from our father again?’
‘If you weren’t such a cruel dullard, you would see the danger here.’
The Macaulays were poisonous, even to each other. Lowri had the awful feeling that she was caught in a game of cat and mouse, with her as the mouse.
‘I swear, we will not steal from you again,’ slurred Donnan, through a swollen mouth.
That earned him a kick in the ribs from Allard.
‘Get away from him,’ cried Lowri, and Allard swung his boot back to kick her, but Cullen pushed him off. ‘Leave them be. They have suffered enough.’
‘Not nearly enough,’ shouted Griffin. ‘Take this cur away where no one can find him. I’ll make him a pretty prison.’
The two thugs began to drag Donnan away. Lowri clung to him, but the hateful Cullen tore her fingers free and gripped her to him around the waist.
Donnan shouted back. ‘Forgive me, Lowri, for not protecting you. I love you, lass.’
Then he was gone.
Silence fell, save for the rustling of horses in the stalls. Cullen waited until Lowri’s squirming subsided. She was strong, and her desperation made her hard to hold. ‘If I let go, will you calm down and listen to what my father has to say?’ he hissed into her ear.
She nodded, and he released his hold. Lowri sprang away from him. Her hands fisted at her sides, eyes darting from one to the other of her tormentors. How fierce she was. Even cornered, she did not succumb. She spat her fury at them all, and Cullen was humbled by her bravery.
‘You are vile. You must let them go. I am to blame for the reiving. It was all my idea.’
‘I’m more inclined to punishment than forgiveness, so, no,’ smirked Griffin.
‘I was the ringleader. I confess to stealing, and I will take whatever punishment you demand, as long as you let them go.’
‘Don’t try to bargain with me, lass, for you have no power here. And the more you defy me, the more I’ve a mind to see them swing,’ said Griffin. ‘Off to the magistrate in the morning.’
‘It’s your word against theirs. They might get off.’
‘I told you, I have the magistrate in my pocket. They will die, unless you do as you are told.’
All the fight seemed to go out of Lowri Strachan. Her shoulders sagged, and she swallowed hard. ‘Please. I will beg you, if I have to. I’ll do anything. I will get on my knees and kiss your feet, as long as you don’t hurt them.’
‘I like the sound of you on your knees, lass,’ said Allard with a leer, and Cullen imagined his fist hitting Allard’s mouth, sending his teeth down his throat.
Allard extended his filthy boot. ‘Here you go, lass. Show me some obedience at last.’
The lass knelt in the muck of the stable at his feet. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she sacrificed her pride for the sake of her friends. Just as Lowri leaned down, Cullen scooped her up by her arm.
‘Leave her be. You don’t have to beggar her pride.’
‘As her brother beggared mine and that of Clan Macaulay,’ shouted Griffin.
‘I wanted a union, for Macaulay blood to mix with Strachan blood, and so it shall be.’ Griffin grabbed hold of Lowri’s face with a rough hand.
‘If you want to avoid being sent to the colonies or hanged, all three of you, then I will have that union. You will marry my son, obey him in all things, lie with him and produce an heir. Only then will I release your friends from their prison.’
‘Marriage? Have you gone mad?’ said Cullen, tearing his father’s hands from Lowri.
‘I’d rather die than lie with a Macaulay rat,’ spat Lowri.
Allard was equally stunned. ‘I’ll not have her. She is nought but a criminal.’
Lowri shouted back, ‘How many cattle have you reived, you hypocrite? Many’s the time you stole from us. Is it not our way of life in the Marches to take a bit here and there? Has it not been for generations? Don’t we all turn a blind eye to a bit of reiving?’
Allard jabbed a finger at the lass. ‘She admits her crime with no shame. She is a thieving harlot, a dangerous menace. Let the magistrate punish this witch.’