Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
It had been an hour—more than an hour—since Tearloch had bathed and donned clean clothing in Duncan’s chambers.
He’d gone straight down to the meal in the hall so others would not be left waiting overlong.
But now it was time for him to face his “captive,” make certain she’d had a meal of her own, and present her to the clan.
Ignoring the eyes on his every move, he took the stairs two at a time.
“I will nae keep her awake long,” he said under his breath.
He was still grinning when he approached his chamber door and greeted Jock and Rainer, who stood guard with strict orders not to allow Kenna out of the room.
“Welcome home, yer Lairdship.”
“Has she thrown anything at the door yet?”
“Nay, sir. Nary a whistle fer quite some time now, but she is inside.”
“That can’t be good,” Duncan said, from behind him.
Tearloch was weary of his dark shadow and the constant predictions of doom where Kenna was concerned.
“She has doubtless fallen asleep in the bath,” he said, defensively.
He opened the door, and as he entered, he shut it in Duncan’s face, then leaned back against it.
Best to stand still for a moment and let her take in the sight of him in his clean new clothes.
It might make her warm to him. Or so he’d hoped. But she was nowhere in sight.
The tub still held water and bubbles, but they were cold to the touch. The fire was pathetic and did nothing to warm the room. The shutters had been left off the windows, and with a storm coming in fast, the wind had done its work. No doubt she was huddled beneath the bedding…
But she wasn’t.
Her new clothing was spread out and waiting. And if she wasn’t wearing them…what was she wearing?
She wasn’t hiding behind the folding screen. She wasn’t under the bed.
He peeked into the water again to see if she had drown, but that was impossible. The tub was too small, the water too shallow. Behind the tapestries then?
“Come, Kenna. ‘Tis time for you to face the world again.” He walked along the walls, searching for feet, a bulge. “I ken ye’re embarrassed, but it is time to be forgettin’ about such nonsense.”
She wasn’t there. Oh, how he hated that Duncan was just outside the door, practicing readying his smirk. So he went round the room again, peeked out the windows, found the guard on the ground beneath, then checked the bed curtains. He climbed on the bed and pressed up on the canopy.
Nothing.
His roar of frustration could have broken down the door, but it was Duncan who threw it open and rushed inside, the guards on his tail, swords drawn.
“She’s gone again,” Duncan said, then turned to eye the guards. “Ye claimed she was here.”
“She couldnae have gone,” said Jock. “We n’er left our post.”
The other one shook his head. “Aye, we did,” Rainer corrected. “After we frightened her well and good, we went to the stairs to watch the hall fill.”
Tearloch had to unclench his jaw to speak. “After ye did what?”
Duncan stepped around the pair and went for the door…to close it.
Both men were wise enough to toss their weapons away from them. Then Jock asked, “shouldn’t we go after her?”
“Auch, aye,” Tearloch said quietly. “Duncan and I will do just that. In a moment. But first, I would like to ken just what ye did to frighten my ladywife.”
“Lady?” Rainer shook his head. “I only heard that she was an enemy to the clan.”
He cocked a brow. “Someone told ye this?”
“Nay. I overheard… In the stables, I overheard that she planned to murder ye, Sir Tearloch.”
He looked at Duncan, who gave his head a shake, silently agreeing with him that Rainer’s excuse was no excuse at all. And finally, they both found a way to relieve the frustration they’d suffered for the past two days.
When Duncan opened the door once more, the other captains were waiting in the hallway. They’d heard his bellow and come running, but they hadn’t interrupted.
Jamie glanced past them into the room. “Lady Kenna?”
“Find her!” Tearloch was grateful his men moved without question. They hadn’t been surprised in the least.
He stormed to the top of the stairs and roared down into the great hall. “Find her now!”
The festivities halted as Tearloch’s men jumped to their feet and ran out of the keep.
Duncan followed, shouting directions as they lit torches and spread out to scour the grounds and the outer bailey.
Search parties rushed to the stables to gather their mounts.
The gates were flung open. The night was lit with flame and shouting.
Jamie couldn’t believe he was heading back down the road again. None of them could. Something had to be done about this woman, and if Tearloch didn’t manage to do it, Jamie might help her escape himself if only to get some rest.
In the darkness, they would never find her. Even the color of her clothes was unknown.
He and his small party used torches to search the ground for tracks both on and off the road. After a league, they found none and gladly turned for home. If he were the one to find her now, he might beat her himself and plead for understanding later.
Duncan followed Tearloch along the perimeter of the inner wall.
The sentries had seen no one leave. The folk who had been celebrating in the gardens had seen no strangers, man nor woman, fleeing or otherwise.
The two of them entered the kitchens. Half a dozen steps in, Tearloch came to a quick halt.
They both recognized the sleeping form curled sideways in a chair before a neglected fire.
Her feet were pulled up inside that filthy white gown.
Her hands were tucked beneath her crossed arms. Her head rested on the thin arm of the chair.
Her only blanket was that great fan of red hair that had doubled in size after her bath.
The only other clean thing about her was the wet apron still tied about her.
Duncan’s anger and frustration fizzled instantly. Tearloch marched forward, his dark face unforgiving, so Duncan hurried to block his path.
“She’s done naught wrong. She was not running this time.”
The man stared for a moment, nodded, and gave himself the time to inhale a few deep breaths. “Whistle them back, Duncan. The poor men need their rest.”
Duncan took one last look at the sleeping lass, then did as he was told.
Out on the steps of the keep, he whistled thrice.
Echoing whistles sounded in the distance.
Jamie joined him, and together they returned to the kitchens where Tearloch, Monroe and Kincaid had pulled up chairs a safe distance away to watch the woman sleep, as if she might disappear if they looked away.
A flurry of women bustled through the passageway from the hall. The largest one noticed Kenna but not her watchers, and before Tearloch could make a sound in protest, the woman few to the chair, grabbed the lady’s arm, and dealt a blow across her face!
Kenna straightened, sputtering, and trying to defend herself from her attacker.
“Hold!” Tearloch croaked, closing fast.
The lass jumped at the sound of his voice, but continued to cower behind her arms. Did she believe the blow had come from him?
The big woman reached around and grabbed a fat handful of auburn hair and wrenched Kenna to her feet.
Tearloch roared like a wild beast and lunged forward, not stopping until he was nose to nose with the fool. She bowed deeply, her hand still full of hair.
Forgive me, yer lairdship. I did not see ye there. I was but takin’ this one to task fer sleepin’.” And to Kenna, she demanded, “Bow to yer laird, ye lazy wench.” Then she pressed Kenna’s head down.
Kenna spun out of her grasp and came around to grab the big woman’s forearm before Tearloch could even decide his next move. “You will not touch me again,” she hissed, “and live to remember it.”
Finally out of a frozen stupor, Duncan rushed forward. “Bess, ye dinnae ken what ye’re about! This is the laird’s lost lass. This is Lady Kenna!”
Bess released the hair but looked Kenna up and down, still dubious. She shook her head. “The hair is not the same.”
Kenna lowered her head like a bull. “You mean to say it is clean?”
Bess’s eyes flew wide and she carefully got down on her old knees. “Forgive me, my lady. I…I was told to leave fine things for ye. How could I know ye would don this rough stuff again? And the apron led me astray.”
To Duncan’s ear, the woman didn’t sound contrite at all. And it looked like Tearloch had heard the same. “Pack yer things,” he said. “Lochahearn is no longer yer home.”
The woman looked at him like he must be joking.
“Nae, Sir Tearloch,” Kenna said. “She is right. I am dressed as a scullery. I thought I could make myself useful…” She shook her head.
“No one told me…” Another shake, followed by a silent tear.
“I thought the garments too fine…for a whore. And since there were no whores in the Carlisle household. I had no idea what other duties would be expected of me.”
Tearloch fell back a step as if she’d struck him across the face with a pair of gauntlets.
Bess smirked as if she’d suspected as much and climbed awkwardly back to her feet. “Ye wouldn’t toss me out, laird, for an enemy, surely.”
Tearloch noticed the woman again, horrified that she was still in the room. “Enemy?”
“Aye. Enemy to the MacPher—” Duncan clamped his hand over the stupid woman’s mouth and dared not let go.
Tearloch took Kenna by the shoulders and pulled her closer. “I must needs be clear, then, my lady.” He leaned down until their noses touched. “Ye’ll be havin’ no other duties.” He suddenly bent and grabbed her around the thighs, threw her over his shoulder, and strode for the great hall.
Duncan and his hand held the line.