Chapter 2 #2
Her stomach churned and emotions curdled inside her.
Gone were the dreams of marrying for romance, love, and virtue.
Now she was having to debase herself, but she promised she would have done anything for Nessa and Tara.
At first, she thought this meant dying, but there were other cruel fates, and she would embrace them all if it meant shielding her sisters from the same.
For their part, Nessa and Tara widened their eyes and shook their heads, trying to express themselves.
“It seems they hae something tae say…” Laird Knox reached towards Nessa’s gag.
“I speak for them. I am the eldest. Ye only need tae listen tae me,” Caroline whipped her head around again.
Laird Knox paused. Caroline held her breath, only exhaling when the Laird withdrew his hand.
“Whatever ye want, I will dae. If there is a task ye need completing, then I shall dae it. If ye would like me tae sing or dance, I will dae that as well, anything for the guarantee of shelter for the night, and a hot meal. We dinnae mean tae enter yer territory. Surely ye can see that it was an honest mistake? Or dae ye nae think we hae been through enough taeday? Whatever ye dae, it cannae be any worse than the bandits,” the words poured out of her mouth in a torrent of emotion.
Laird Knox’s nostrils flared. “Ye dinnae want tae test me on that,” he warned.
He rose to a standing position again and tilted his head back, draining the cup dry. He dropped it on the floor. It landed with a clang. A servant rushed to pick it up. Laird Knox rubbed his hands together.
Caroline wanted so badly to say something, to find some magic combination of words that would persuade him to take pity on them, but they clotted under her tongue and she remained silent. Laird Knox paced before Caroline, thinking out loud.
“But if bandits are operating in or near my territory, then they need tae be taught a lesson. Did ye get a good look at the men?”
“I’m afraid nae. It happened tae quickly, and they obscured their faces.” Caroline thought about creating fictitious descriptions of men, but what if they turned out to be accurate and innocent men were punished because of her description?
“And where will ye gae if ye leave here?”
Caroline glanced towards her sisters. “Anywhere we are safe. I will seek shelter and work and try my best tae put this matter behind us. Father always wanted us tae continue the family trade, but I dinnae see how that is possible now.”
“He must hae been a brave man, or foolish, tae take his lassies along the Highland roads. I’m nae sure I would dae the same if I hae daughters.
Then again, fathers dinnae always make the wisest decisions.
Some never get a chance,” he seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, but quickly collected himself.
He lowered himself into a crouching position and studied her again. He tugged at her shawl, which was loosely wrapped around her shoulders. She gasped as her neck became exposed. His eyes widened.
“It seems as though the bandits dinnae get their hands on all yer valuables,” he reached up and pinched the thin chain that hung around her neck. The outside of his fingers rested against her alabaster skin.
The touch was unexpected and sent a searing heat rushing through her body.
She seized entirely, tension tightening her supple skin.
Breath was stolen from her throat. He touched where her neck melted into her shoulder, so near to the hollow of her throat, which fluttered as she gulped.
He tugged at the chain and something moved beneath her clothes. The family emblem was revealed.
She knew from the look on Laird Knox’s face that she was doomed.
He snarled and wrenched the emblem from around her neck. The thin chain snapped, and he pulled it away, holding it in his palm.
“Gilmour,” he hissed.
He closed his fist around the emblem as if he could crush it, but then he hurled it with all his might against the far wall.
It clanged and then dropped. Caroline closed her eyes.
That emblem had been given to her a long time ago by her mother.
She remembered how her mother had gently clasped it around her neck, the gesture tender and loving.
The emblem was a tufted vetch, a wildflower prevalent in Gilmour lands.
The brooch was long, the petals splayed out in an arc rather than around a central bud of pollen.
Layers of petals following each other along the central stem as though they were climbing a ladder and trying not to jostle each other.
While the natural flower was violet, this brooch was silver.
As long as ye wear this, ye are protected from evil, Caroline had been told.
She had also been told how it meant that she was responsible for representing the clan, and it was her responsibility to conduct herself with grace and nobility, a task that she had striven to uphold.
She had never taken off the emblem since then, not even to bathe.
Yet now it had been cruelly stripped from her neck, and it offered no protection at all.
Laird Knox seemed to shift before her eyes. He radiated fury. The air around him shimmered, and his skin became a shade of red. His nostrils flared, and his eyes flashed with an intimidating glare.
“Ye would dare lie tae me? Liars are worse than thieves. I should string the lot of ye up now and be done with ye,” he spat. “Or, better yet, throw ye intae a fire and watch ye burn. That’s the fate that anyone possessing that emblem deserves,” he jabbed a finger in the direction of her emblem.
“Please, I dinnae mean tae deceive ye. We are in danger. There’s—”
Laird Knox bent down and grabbed her chin. It was more shocking than painful, and it caused her to fall in silence. His breath was warm, his voice low.
“Ye should know that I dinnae care about yer story. I dinnae care what happened tae ye. Ye are a Gilmour, and any Gilmour is unwelcome on my lands. Ye are wretches, the lot of ye.”
He let go of his forceful grip and her head twisted to the side.
He walked up to his servant and grabbed the mug, as well as the jug of wine.
Then, after a moment of considering the two items, he shoved the mug back into the hands of the servant and drank from the jug directly.
The wine poured down his chin and spilled on the floor like drops of blood.
He slurped loudly and then belched. His body was angled away from Caroline, as though he couldn’t even bear to look at her.
“Take them away. I dinnae want them in my presence. It’s tae late tae think clearly. I will decide what tae dae with them in the morning. They could make for valuable prisoners, or kindling,” he growled.
Neither option was palatable for Caroline. She and her sisters were hauled to their feet. Caroline couldn’t bear to look at them. She had failed them. In the absence of their parents, she was supposed to take care of them, to protect them, and she had failed.
They were now at the mercy of a man who saw them as the enemy, who would not listen to reason, and had no room for compassion in his soul.
They might as well begin counting the hours of their dwindling lives, for their fate would soon be sealed, and she was certain that it would be written in blood.
Did you enjoy the preview? Read “A Laird and a Fugitive” here.