Chapter 2
Hamish McNeill was very conscious of the young woman beside him; in fact, the very first time he saw her, he had been quite amazed. Finding such loveliness in a decrepit carriage in the middle of nowhere was the stuff of fantasy, but the cynical side of him soon took over.
She was certainly a beautiful woman, with glossy brown hair and eyes the colour of autumn heather, but he could not allow himself to be distracted by that.
She looked helpless now, but he knew what she was capable of as he touched the tender spot on his face. At first, he had thought she was a pale and frightened creature, but now he knew better.
Yet, she was a healer, so she obviously had some compassion. What angered him was that her special skills and empathy for others were going to be wasted on the monstrous creature who lived in Inchkeith Castle. He had no heart, no feelings for anyone except himself.
Now, however, the Laird of Inchkeith Castle would have something to worry about because his days of lording over the castle and the village of Inchkeith were almost over.
Was she his spy? Had she been sent to destroy him?
It would have been so easy for someone to put her in a vulnerable situation where pity would make him soften towards her, and he would be completely taken in by her beauty and helplessness. He was already feeling sorry for her, for god’s sake.
He shook himself abruptly and told himself not to be so stupid.
He was hardened to the deceptions of women, especially when they were used as tools to undermine men.
No, Hamish was too strong to be taken for a fool again after all the hardships he had endured in the course of his life.
Trust was a weakness that he could not afford, and he would not fall prey to it again. He was too strong for that.
Amanda, too, was well aware of the attractiveness of the man walking beside her, but she was determined to be immune to it.
The Tewsbury sisters had a prime example of a complete scoundrel in the shape of their father, who was the epitome of evil in her eyes.
What kind of man would sell his children? Only a monster.
Amanda had also seen many situations where women had been used by unscrupulous men who fooled them into falling in love, then married them for their dowries.
No, Amanda thought. That would never happen to her.
Even though her sisters were happily married, she was determined never to trust a man, especially not the one walking beside her now.
And it would be so easy to do so; he was one of the most beautiful specimens of manhood she had ever seen, but no, he was not for her.
Presently, they emerged through the trees to a clearing in the forest, and her eyes widened in amazement as she saw a group of tents arranged in a circle around a huge fire pit.
These were not ordinary tents, however. They were large, made of thick wool, draped with deer skins, and obviously not temporary shelters. No, these were homes, and this was a little village in its own right. Amanda was amazed at the sight. How could these men live here in such secrecy?
She looked around herself and saw them sharpening knives, drinking ale, playing cards, sleeping on the grass and doing a myriad of other ordinary things that people did to pass the time.
Suddenly, she found herself being pushed forward and turned so that her back was pressed against a hard tree trunk. She gasped in shock as a length of rope was wound tightly around her, leaving her firmly bound to the tree and unable to escape.
“What-what are you doing?” she asked, her voice trembling with fear. “Please let me—”
Her words were cut off by the deep voice of Hamish McNeill, who was standing in front of her with a terrifying frown on his face, his green eyes dark with anger. “What is your name?” he demanded.
“A-Amanda,” she stuttered.
“Your family name?” he asked, his frown becoming even deeper.
Amanda thought frantically for a moment. Should she tell him? Or should she invent a false name? Then she realised that it would make no difference to her situation anyway. She was trapped.
“Tewsbury,” she replied at last.
“What do you know about the McNeill Clan?” Hamish asked, taking a small step forward to intimidate her more. He was fingering a dagger, and Amanda could not take her eyes off its gleaming, lethal blade.
“Nothing,” she replied. “I was sold to them by my father, and he told me I was going to be their healer. That is as much as I know.”
“You have very useful skills,” Hamish remarked, and for a moment, the scowl on his face disappeared. “You could be of great value to us.” He looked around and was met by a murmur of agreement.
“Aye,” one of the men said. “She could indeed. Apart fae fixin’ up wounds, she could treat fevers an’ even mix poisons tae use against the enemy.”
“Aye! She hae a much better chance of breachin’ yer brother’s defences than we do. A woman has stronger weapons than a man in many ways,” another man suggested.
“I had not thought of that!” Hamish said approvingly.
He turned back to Amanda, and paused for a moment, as if lost in the hazel eyes that were staring at him so fearfully. Then he asked, “Are you telling me the truth about being sold to the McNeills? I am so tired of lies.”
“I am telling you the truth,” she assured him, but she did take a second to observe how tired he looked.
Hamish did indeed look like a man tired of betrayal.
“I am going to work for them against my will, and if I had my way, I would be living with one of my sisters. Why do you ask me this question?”
The answer came back hard and bitter as he said, “Because they are vile.”
Amanda frowned in puzzlement. “In what way?” she asked. “And who are you? Bandits? Who else camps in the middle of nowhere? Are you trying to hide from someone?”
Hamish turned on her again, glaring, his eyes dark with rage.
“You are going to serve the so-called Laird of Inchkeith.
Well, let me tell you, Madam Healer, that man is no Laird, but a filthy impostor.
I, Hamish McNeill, am the true Laird. Struan McNeill, who is masquerading as the Laird, is my bastard brother.
He has no right to the castle and no right to the title, and if my men and I can do anything to wrench him out of the castle we will do it because he does not belong there.
If I have to spend the rest of my life fighting him, I will gladly do so.
He is letting the castle and the village go to rack and ruin, and he does not give a damn.
The people of Inchkeith are suffering, and I mean to put an end to it! ”
His face had reddened, his eyes were blazing with anger, and his hands were gripping the dagger so tightly that his knuckles were white. Amanda could not draw any further away from him, so she merely watched as he gradually regained his composure.
“And what do you want from me?” she asked apprehensively, terrified of his answer.
Hamish sighed. “I want you to do what any healer does, keep us well,” he answered, looking at her as though she were a simpleton. “Keep us healthy so that we can fight our battles.”
“But one of your men suggested that I should mix poisons. I am telling you here and now that I will not do that. My goal is to heal, not to hurt.” Amanda’s voice was firm.
She found herself a moment later in a staring contest with Hamish McNeill. He was strong in every way, but Amanda, despite her meek appearance, was stubborn, and it was he who dropped his gaze first.
“You are so na?ve,” Hamish said scornfully. “I want you to be on the side of the righteous—us.” He thumbed his chest to emphasise his point. “You were sent to work for a bad man, so I am stopping you from having to do that.”
“But he is sick and needs my services,” Amanda protested. “You are standing in my way—your brother could be dying.”
Hamish laughed cynically. “Do you think you would have got there unscathed?” he asked.
“That creature who shared the carriage with you is Struan’s dogsbody, and he knows he can twist my brother round his little finger.
Any woman in the castle is fair game to him, and he knows that he can do anything he likes with no censure from Struan.
And from what I saw, he was moments from taking what he wanted for you. ”
Amanda recoiled, remembering how close that vile man had come to her. “So you see,” Hamish went on, “it is I who saved you, and you should be thanking me.”
Amanda’s mouth dropped open, her cheeks flushed, and she gasped. Then she protested, “But the Laird needs my services!”
Hamish’s eyes blazed with fury. “I told you he is not the Laird!” he snapped. “And no healer goes to that usurper while I am alive.”
“What if he dies?” Amanda asked. She had expected a hostile response, but the savagery of it startled her.
“Good!” Hamish barked. “The world will be a much better place without him!” he looked at her with a twisted smile. “Are you shocked? Have you never seen hatred before?” Once more, he thumped his chest. “Well, this is what it looks like.”
His whole body was tense and his hands, one of which held the dagger, were fisted by his sides.
It would have been so easy for him to come and run her through, Amanda thought; in fact, she could see the intention in his eyes.
She pictured her sisters’ faces as she silently said goodbye to them, determined that they should be the last image they saw before she left the world.
However, she need not have worried, and she was immensely relieved to see Hamish McNeill walk away and enter one of the tents, leaving her alone.
Amanda looked down at her hands. Her wrists were beginning to look chafed by the rough rope, and although the ones around her waist were not so tight, they were still uncomfortable.
She was still standing, although she was not sure how much longer she would be able to do so, since her feet were becoming sore.
Now that the immediate danger had passed, Amanda was furious, and wondered who had known that she was coming to work for the Laird of Inchkeith? Hamish McNeill must have had a spy in the castle, or else her father had let it slip because the news had been kept secret at Struan McNeill’s request.
Amanda gave a great sigh, wondering if she could somehow work her way out of the ropes that bound her, but at that moment she saw a young woman coming towards her carrying a tray. She suddenly realised that she had not eaten for hours and was absolutely ravenous.
The woman was very dark and attractive, with the kind of deep brown eyes that were very unusual in Scotland, but she looked rather sullen.
She did not greet Amanda but set the tray on the ground and, taking a bowl from it, began to feed her.
Amanda felt slightly embarrassed because she, a grown adult, was being fed like a child.
The food was tasty, although even if it had been dreadful, Amanda would have eaten it because she was so hungry. There was some sort of game bird, turnips and potatoes, accompanied by some weak ale.
The young woman gave her ale to sip, and Amanda, feeling much better after her hunger had been appeased, asked, “What is your name?”
“Fiona,” she replied. “I know yours already.” Her face wore a sullen, unpleasant expression, and she did not meet Amanda’s eyes.
“Do you live here?” Amanda asked.
“Aye,” Fiona replied. “Why dae ye ask? Are ye a spy for the usurper?”
“I am nothing more than what you see before you,” Amanda replied. “A healer. I was sold to the Laird at Inchkeith Castle by my father, so you see, I really don’t want to be here. Do you know the Laird? What is he like?”
This time, Fiona’s expression did change, and she looked up at Amanda with dark eyes that were blazing with rage.
“Ye have met the Laird!” she cried. “His name is Hamish McNeill. The one in the castle stole the rightful Laird’s birthright.
If ye want tae help that creature, ye are as bad as he is!
He is a disgustin’ man an’ dinnae ye forget it, Sassenach!
One day Struan McNeill will get what is comin’ tae him, an’ I hope I am there tae see it. ”
With that, she snatched up the eating utensils and marched off in undisguised fury.
Amanda watched her until she disappeared into the tent, then sank down onto her knees in the dirt and somehow managed to work herself into a sitting position with her back against the tree.
To add to her discomfort, she scratched herself in the process and wondered what else could possibly happen to her that could make her more miserable and afraid.
It was becoming more and more obvious that she had landed in a family feud; a battle between two brothers to see who was the rightful heir to the clan’s name and possessions. Amanda could not care less—all she wanted was to be free.
It was too early in the day to sleep, and with nothing else to do, she decided it was best to observe the activity going on around the camp. Perhaps she might find a way to escape, or at least decide who she must steer clear from and whom to trust.