Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
The following morning tension filled the great hall all the way to the corners, like the stench of burned bread, promising to linger for the foreseeable future.
To Tearloch and everyone’s surprise, Kenna appeared and strode for the dais to join him. She held something behind her back, which made everyone leery.
“Laird?”
“Aye, lass?” He could not bring himself to call her Fia.
She continued to close the distance. “I have heard that you are leaving.”
Tearloch locked his gaze on hers. “Aye. I shall be gone before Terce. But I will return in a week’s time.” He dared not look away. Surely, if she were carrying a weapon, the men now behind her would raise a cry.
She stepped onto the dais and stopped. “I would like to know what is mine.”
“Anything ye like, lass. Was there somethin’ in particular ye want?”
“The horse I arrived on.”
“And why do ye need a horse?” His volume rose with each word.
“I promised I would not run from you again. Remember?”
He nodded, aware that everyone else in the hall watched intently.
“I would prefer to ride.”
“Ride?”
“Ride away. I will be leaving as well. I have done as you asked. I stayed put where you put me. And I have earned my keep as well. Surely, the time I spent in your bedchamber should earn me the horse.”
The snickering and coughing that followed was distracting, so he waved for silence. If she wanted dramatics, he was in just the mood to oblige her.
“Nay. What happened inside scarcely repays me for the damage to the door.”
Her blush was brilliant in the bright morning light. “Damage inflicted by you.”
“Ye should have unbarred it.”
She bit her lips together, realizing that her own antics had given everyone the impression that they were lovers, with him insinuating that he was less than satisfied with her service.
The blush turned to something else and she narrowed her eyes. “You have ruined me, sir. Pray, how much is a maidenhead worth? I believe your men said it was worth a man’s life.” She ignored the gasps from every direction. “Do you now claim that horse is worth more than your life?”
He kept his rage contained, for which Heaven should compensate him. Then he forced a smile. “’Tis a fine horse.”
“Oooooo.”
He couldn’t tell if their audience approved of his retort or condemned him for it, but all eyes turned to the lass, waiting for her next volley.
“Aye, fine enough. But there is one finer. Perhaps Jamie could name a price for Queenie. He wouldn’t be my first, but he might be my best…”
Quickly and silently the alarmed crowd began to slink away, nervous that the first person to meet the laird’s eye would shrivel like a grape in the sun.
“Were ye a virgin, then?” he asked, dubious. He liked watching her fight back after seeing her whimpering the night before. Call for a witch, or run me through, I care not. It wasn’t in her nature to surrender like that, and he wanted to see her fight like the Kenna he knew.
The Fia he knew.
Saints save him, but all he wanted to do was grab her up and hall her back to his chambers, to prove she wanted no one but him. They would spend the rest of their last morning fighting and forgiving.
He didn’t get the reaction he was hoping for, however.
It was difficult for Kenna to see anything clearly thanks to the huge tears filling her vision and threatening to pour down her face if she blinked. So she fought off the urge to do so and whispered, “Keep the damned horse.”
She turned her back to him, uncaring if he saw the sack she carried. There wasn’t much in it. He couldn’t accuse her of stealing. It was his fault her own clothes had been burned or destroyed.
She lifted her chin, let the tears go where they would, and strode out the large keep doors without looking back.
By the time she heard him shout, she was through the inner gate.
“Kenna!” he shouted.
She didn’t look back.
“Kenna, ye’ll come back here, or I will drag ye back!”
She turned, fighting the sharp pang in her chest, and shouted back. “My name, my lord, is Fia.” Surely, he would let her go now. If there was any mercy in the man, he would leave her be.
With her small sack of clothes, no horse—and he was certain, no food—the woman carrying his heart walked away from him. If he let her go, his loneliness would last the rest of his life.
And while he debated his happiness against hers, the organ in his chest threatened to burst if he did not run after her with all haste! When he stopped thinking altogether, his feet flew toward the stables, much to the relief of those of his men glowering at him.
Kenna shook her head vigorously, nearly throwing herself off balance as she hurried beneath the outer gate before someone thought to close her in. But all the notice she received from the guards was a vague salute. Did they wish her well or good riddance?
She didn’t care. She had a long walk ahead of her and she had better think of something besides Tearloch’s final words to her or she would never make it out of sight of Lochahearn before dissolving into a loathsome, sobbing mess on the ground.
Why had he questioned her name? What mean-hearted clansman suggested she was not who she claimed to be? She must not have meant much to him if he would take someone else’s word against hers. If he had so little trust of her, such a lack of affection, he should be pleased to be rid of her.
The woods in the distance should be her worry now…and whatever might lurk within, for she had no weapons but an eating knife.
She berated herself for not asking more questions in the kitchens. Was there a town or village close by? And in which direction? If she believed God would listen, she would pray that some kind soul would come upon her on the road and take pity.
Freedom would prove much more vaunted with a horse.
The safest place to go was back to Carlisle Folly. Perhaps Agatha need not know she was there. The Clarks, the reeve and his wife, had gifted her with the blue gown, shift, and boots. They would take her in, hide her, help her start her quest to find The Macpherson.
At least she was headed in the correct direction. Was it just ten days ago she came this way?
She raised her head to watch the trees in the distance sway to the bidding of a breeze that pushed at their peaks but never reached the lower branches. She felt terribly insignificant in comparison.
Just as she was wondering why her left eye produced far more tears than her right, she heard the approach of a rider from behind.
Her heart leapt when Tearloch passed her, stopped his horse just ahead, and dismounted.
She kept walking, determined to ignore both him and his mount, despite how her body betrayed her.
“Forgive me,” he said, falling into step beside her. “Ye hurt me deeply when ye said ye were leaving, and I wanted to hurt ye in return.”
His deep voice and strong burr rattled her bones. His nearness poured bubbles into her blood. She walked on.
“Fia, my love, I would offer ye a kerchief, but alas, I have never been given one.”
She looked at him sharply. Another woman’s name on his lips only chilled her, but she couldn’t admit that.
“Remember me as Lass. That way, if you call out my name while you are bedding’ your new wife, she will never know.” Her voice was choked with tears, but he heard her.
He threw himself in front of her, dropped to his knees, and hugged her around the thighs. “Lass, please. I dinnae wish ye to go, ever. Please come back with me. I’m sorry I must marry another, but I was pledged to this woman by the king himself. I must obey my king.”
“Aye, ye must. And I must obey my vow.”
He cursed. “Ye and yer vow.” He rose to tower over her. “If I prevent the man’s murder and save yer soul, perhaps God will forgive me for doing as I wish now.”
He grabbed her to his chest and kissed her hard. When her arms wrapped around him he eased his hold but deepened the kiss. A distant roar, mixed with whistles, reached their ears as the outer wall of Lochahearn was covered with a mob of cheering onlookers.
When the embrace ended, she took a few deep breaths, then asked coldly, “Now, will ye allow me the horse?”
“Nay! Ye’ll not be leavin’ Lochahearn, even if I must keep ye under lock and key!”
He picked her up and slammed her backside onto his saddle, then vaulted up behind her. He held her against him with one arm as he rushed her back inside the safety of his home.
“Ye’ll do as I bid, or ye can leave Lochahearn for good, Duncan.” Tearloch was furious that his men no longer obeyed him without question. “She will be kept warm and fed. And between the lot of ye, she willnae lack for company.”
His men had met him at the top of the stairs that led to the dungeon, where he had just placed a very angry woman. Her shrieks could be heard through the kitchens, and most likely into the hall as well.
“I want the same sentry duty. Two men, changing every two hours. If there are any among ye that she does no’ particularly care for, they are relieved.
I will not torture her, even with bad company.
” He looked back at Duncan, then to his men.
“Duncan is no to be left alone with her. And any man who frees her will die for it.”
As soon as Tearloch, Jamie, and Kincaid left through the gate for Edinburgh, Duncan flew down the steps to the dungeon. Frazier and another soldier stood when he approached and watched the surprise register on his face.
Frazier bobbed his brows. “No bad, eh?”
“This is madness,” Duncan said, taking in all that Tearloch had managed to accomplish in just an hour’s time.
Kenna lay curled in the center of a soft bed inside a cell.
Torchlight bathed her cloaked form and all the comforts that surrounded her.
A small fire burned in a brazier beside the closed gate, although it was barely cool enough to need one.
Books and linens covered a table set against the bars, and a privacy screen stood against the back wall beside a shackle that had been imbedded in the stone when the keep was first built.
But for the dim light, the woman had to be bearably comfortable, as Tearloch had wanted.
The aftereffects of her sobbing and the crackling of the fire made Duncan want to curl up behind the lass and soothe her. When Frazier noticed the look on his face, he cleared his throat.
“Duncan, have ye taken leave of yer senses? She belongs to Tearloch, at least until his new wife discovers her. Ye must put her from yer mind.”
“Dinnae be an eejit, Frazier. She is far too young for me. But I cannae stand by and let him rip her heart out. It rips so easily…” Duncan whispered the last, then shook himself and left the men to their duty.