Chapter 10
Willow had the space of a bird’s wing to study her situation before her thoughts were interrupted.
A knock at her door signaled yet another Brahanne visitor, and when she’d opened her room—or cell as it were—to see the familiar man from the Great Hall before her, she was made aware that he was to be her guard.
“Apologies, sir, but what on earth can ye mean?”
The man stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. As he stood before her, his posture strict as his sword hand lay on the pommel of his blade, her guard nodded his head at her.
“I am Rodrick, me lady, and I have been instructed by the laird to see that ye are kept safe within the chamber. I am the laird’s man-at-arms, so ye may trust me to remain vigilant.”
She eyed him. “I assume this has somethin' to do with me promised safe return to me brother.”
The man nodded. “Aye, me lady. Ye are to remain here until the time of the exchange. A letter has already been sent to Laird McCallum, and it shouldnae be long before word is returned from him.”
Willow bit back the desire to scoff at the man. He was about the age of the laird, and she could see that he was recovering from injuries. She wouldn’t attack him for merely being adjacent to the man that she was so upset with. It seemed a cruelty more befitting her brother than herself.
She folded her arms over her chest. “And what are we supposed to do then? Am I to stay in this chamber for the entirety of the day?”
“Ye cannae go wanderin', of course. It wouldnae serve us to have ye memorizing the layout of the castle and deliverin' the information to yer brother. I can take ye to the Great Hall for supper or some air if ye like. I am happy to sit with ye as well. I have been told I tell quite the braw tale. Regaling the lassies with me triumphs is just one of me specialties.”
Willow wanted to roll her eyes. Even after just a few moments with the man, it was clear that Rodrick loved the sound of his own voice, and the wink he offered on the word “lassies” showed her that he was quite the flirt as well.
“I am in nay mood for one of yer stories, I’m afraid,” she said dryly.
The bite of her tone was unmistakable, and Rodrick cocked a brow at her, stepping closer as he turned the corners of his mouth down at her.
“And what has crawled up yer skirts and angered ye so, me lady?”
Unable to fight the scoff, Willow smiled bitterly. “Such a way with words, Rodrick. Aside from the fact that I’ve been kidnapped to be exchanged as a ransom for the Lady Melissa, ye mean, of course?”
Rodrick snorted, chuckling lightly. “Aye, aside from that.”
She rolled her eyes this time, too annoyed to fight it any longer, and walked back to the bed to sit down. As it sank down under her weight, Willow gnawed on her tongue, hoping that it might convince the thing to behave.
“I will admit that I am upset about a mistruth.” Rodrick cocked a brow at her again, and Willow found herself smiling despite her anger. “It would have been better to have kenned that Keegan was the laird and nae the man-at-arm as he allowed me to believe.”
“Ye—” Rodrick started but abruptly stopped, nearly choking on his words. “Ye thought…”
There was a shock as plain as day on the man’s face, but after a moment, it was shunted away and replaced with the tearful cackle of a man more amused than he had been in a time. The raucous noise echoed through the room, and Willow glared.
He was laughing at her. Yes, it was a result of the ridiculous situation. And the amusement was partly not for her location at the butt of this joke. However, the lady could still tell that Rodrick found it hilarious that someone might mistake Keegan for anything but the laird.
“I cannae believe ye thought that man was only a man-at-arms! The laird is as commandin' as deadly squall.”
Willow’s eyes flared, and she huffed out a breath. As Rodrick continued to fall apart with laughter, she found herself following right along. The man’s laugh was infectious, it seemed, and she could not keep herself from chuckling at the situation she’d gotten herself into.
“Och, I must admit that I needed that. It has been a worrisome few days, and a good laugh has allowed me a moment of reprieve.” Rodrick put a hand to his heart, sucking in breaths steadily to calm himself.
“Well, allow me to escort ye to the Great Hall for a meal. A predicament is always easier to manage on a full stomach.”
There was little else for Willow to do, so she sighed and stood up from the bed, nodding at Rodrick. “Verra well. As I can do little else in this castle.”
Rodrick regarded her, his tilted head and smirk poking at her clear sarcasm. Still, he walked her to the door, a hand at the small of her back as he guided her along. He was clearly a caring man.
The man-at-arms walked beside her as they left the room and took the one hallway with which she was acquainted toward the Great Hall.
While she had undoubtedly been planning to explore the castle, it was not to map it for her brother.
As much as she disliked being a captive of Clan Brahanne, she would not subject them to the ire of her brother.
Silence crawled between them, and once again, Willow was at the mercy of her inability to let it stand.
“Do ye think that the exchange will go so smoothly? That yer Melissa will be returned to ye?”
Rodrick stopped, and for the first time in the time she’d interacted with him, his brow dropped over his eyes in a severe glare. He was a joking man in most things, it appeared, but as she mentioned the upcoming hand-off, Rodrick’s joviality sobered.
Willow’s stomach turned. He did not feel as positive about it as the laird might, and that was indeed a worry for them both.
“I am confident it will be over quickly and the lady returned.”
The conviction in Rodrick’s voice was lacking, and Willow could not respond. Their remaining walk to the Great Hall progressed in silence that not even Willow sought to break. God, please let the exchange go as planned.
After the short trip, they arrived at the Great Hall, and Rodrick pushed open the doors to the large room. At the end of the room, near a long table that mirrored the one used back home, sat Keegan. A picked-at plate sat before him, and Willow recognized Damon, who sat to his right side.
It was a moment before either of them noticed her approach with Rodrick, but when they did, she was greeted with a stoic expression from the laird and a contemptuous glare from his brother.
It was far from her right to think such a thing, but Willow could not help regarding Damon as a terrible bampot. For every interaction they had, it appeared that he would only be happy if her head was served up on a platter. It was hardly a gentlemanly trait to wish something on a woman.
Rodrick stopped next to her as they reached the table, and they both bowed low, Willow honestly presenting her best curtsey.
As she straightened, Keegan’s eyes found hers and locked on with furious intensity.
She fought to stifle a shiver, and it was quickly aided when her eyes dropped to the food on the table.
Her stomach growled quietly, and Willow admitted to herself that she was quite famished.
“What on earth is she doing here?” Damon spat out, standing up from his seat and leaning over the table at her with his hand on his sword. “Our prisoner should be locked up at all times.”
“Apologies, sir. The lady was hungry, and I have instructions to ensure that—”
“So ye toss the wench some bannocks and be done with it,” Damon cut in.
Her heart pounded against her ribs, each beat too noticeable as she stood there. Damon was a dragon for as blistering as his words burned her skin, and Willow swallowed down the hurt and discomfort at the tense situation.
Damon jabbed a finger through the air at her. “Yer brother has Melissa, and ye act as if nay such thing exists. I can see the lies painted all over yer face, and if I had me way, ye would be at the mercy of the lash until the truth spilled from ye.”
Willow was frozen, and she regretted ever taking Rodrick up on his offer.
“But ye daenae have yer way, brother. Now, I’ll see ye sit down and never speak in such a manner again.
” Keegan’s voice soared through the air with the accuracy and deadly intent of an arrow, and he turned from glaring at his brother to gazing out over the room.
“Whoever dares harm the lady will face me swift wrath. We have given our word as a clan to leave the woman untouched for the duration of her stay until the exchange. I willnae be made a liar and a fraud because anyone here cannae manage to contain themselves.”
The eyes that had been pinned to her since her arrival in the room looked away, turning their hatred down to the tables in front of them.
Willow did not know if she was grateful for Keegan’s actions or more nervous than before.
It was likely that no one would go against the direct order of their laird, but she knew that this “unique” treatment would only draw their ire more.
No one spoke, the tension of the moment balanced on the edge of a knife, and then Damon pushed past his chair, knocking it to the floor, and stormed out of the room. He said nothing, but as he passed, his glare found Willow, and she shivered under the weight of his animosity toward her.
“Return to yer meals,” the laird ordered before stepping out from the table and circling it to approach her.
He stopped before Rodrick, keeping Willow just to the side of his forward-facing stare.
“Thank ye for doing as commanded, Rodrick. I am sure ye’re hungry. Ye can take up Damon’s place.”
Rodrick nodded but didn’t make a move to leave just yet. As Willow waited for the laird to finally address her, she raised her brows as he turned in her direction.
“I wish to speak with ye about yer brother.”