Chapter Twenty-Six #2
It was a painful position. The man who called himself Ternan had become angry with the men when they’d tossed her brutally onto the hall floor.
Even now, she could hear him behind her, keeping men away from her.
It seemed that there were Lindsay men who wanted a piece of her, knowing she was Niall Keith’s daughter.
But Ternan kept them away.
He did, however, gag her again, this time while she was on the floor and unable to fight him off.
He used a long piece of woolen fabric, rough and smelling like animals, which led her to believe it had been ripped from a horse blanket.
But he tied it tightly enough that she was unable to open her mouth.
Once he was finished with that, he rolled her up into a seated position.
“Now,” he said quietly. “Behave yerself, woman. There is no love for Keith within these walls and the more ye fight, the more Drostan might lose his temper with ye. Do ye understand me? If ye are tae survive this, then keep still.”
Isadora glared at him balefully but she knew, deep down, there was merit in what he said. She might stop resisting for a short time, at least until she could figure out how she could escape.
Perhaps she had to show some measure of surrender, after all.
Isadora gave him a curt nod but nothing more. Ternan reached down and pulled her up by the arm, dragging her over to the table where he put her onto one of the long benches that ran alongside the feasting table.
After that, he moved to the other side of the table and waited.
Isadora knew what they were waiting for; that vile devil, Drostan Lindsay, had yet to make an appearance. She’d never met him face to face and she had never wanted to. But now, like it or not, she was going to be put on full display as the ultimate Keith prize.
A door slammed somewhere, rousing her from her thoughts.
Isadora looked up to see a tall, thin man approaching the table.
He was wearing expensive clothing, something not normally worn by Highlanders—leather breeches, a tunic made from something other than wool, and a belt that had jewels on it.
The dirk that hung off his belt was big, with a gilded hilt.
She was so busy trying to catch a better look at that glorious weapon that she was startled to see The Beast coming in behind the man.
Her blood ran cold at the sight of him.
Now, her focus was on The Beast. In all the time she’d fought with him, he’d never recognized her from having been at the Ludus Caledonia, so she made the decision not to point out that she’d been there.
She also decided not to point out that she’d witnessed his defeat to Cam.
She’d stupidly given away her identity already and she didn’t want to make another foolish mistake by declaring that the very man who had beaten The Beast in combat would soon be coming for her.
Of that, she had no doubt.
“Ye’re Niall Keith’s daughter, are ye?” The thin man in fine clothing was standing in front of her now, addressing her. “Ye dunna look like him. I had no idea his daughter was such a beauty.”
Isadora didn’t have any way of replying to that, which was probably for the best. She looked up at him, the gag on her mouth now soaked from her saliva, suspecting that this man was none other than the very man they’d been expecting.
As it turned out, her suspicions were correct.
“I’m Drostan Lindsay,” he said, planting himself on the creaking chair at the head of the table. “Ye’re now my guest for the foreseeable future. Ternan, remove her gag. ’Tis no way tae treat a guest.”
Ternan moved up behind her, bending over as he untied the gag. “Remember what I said,” he whispered in the ear that wasn’t facing Drostan. “Behave yerself and ye’ll live.”
He took the gag away and Isadora licked her lips, damp from the gag. Ternan’s words were ringing in her ear, but she’d never been one to keep silent.
“If I’m a guest, then as a guest, I’d like tae leave,” she said. “My da will be wondering what has become of me.”
Drostan’s gaze moved over her in a most disturbing manner, as if he were thinking dirty thoughts. “I canna believe that I never heard of yer beauty,” he said. “Are ye married, lass?”
“Aye,” Isadora said without hesitation, thinking it would be better that way. “My husband is a powerful warrior. May I leave?”
Drostan held up a hand. “In time,” he said. “I wish for ye tae sup with me first. We have much tae discuss, much I wish tae relay tae yer father. I’ll release ye when we’ve had our talk. Call it a gesture of good will.”
Isadora wasn’t certain if he meant it or not. “What about the other women ye captured along with me?” she asked. “Will ye release them also?”
“I am only concerned with ye at the moment.”
She didn’t dare ask about Nikolaus, fearful that it would turn Drostan against her, so she kept her mouth shut.
Worse still, there was an inflection in his tone that gave her pause, something dark and threatening.
Behave yerself and ye’ll live. Those words kept coming back, reminding her that this was not a situation to be reckless in.
“Then what do ye want tae speak of?” she asked.
“Let us speak of such matters after supper. For now, I wish tae know a young woman with extraordinary beauty. Surely ye’ve traveled the world and have many entertaining stories tae tell. A woman with such beauty should be well traveled.”
Isadora was very quickly becoming annoyed with him. He was making this seem as if it were some manner of social visit when they both knew it wasn’t. Her irritation had the better of her.
“Do I look like someone who has traveled the world?” she said. “Look at me. Do I dress like a fine lady? I’ve barely been out of Auchnacree.”
If Drostan was offended by her snappish reply, he didn’t let on. “Pity,” he said. “Surely ye know some stories tae entertain me with, even if they only come from yer experiences from yer village.”
She sighed sharply. “I dunna know any stories,” she said. “Will ye please tell me what ye wish for me tae relay tae my da?”
Now, Drostan was starting to show some displeasure. “I wouldna be in such a great rush if I were ye,” he said. “I am trying tae show ye my hospitality.”
“Ye stopped showing me any measure of hospitality when yer men dragged me here.”
“Ye shouldna have fought with them.”
“I wasna going tae make an easy target, Lindsay. Why did ye bring me here?”
She finished it off with a demand, something Drostan rose to. She was lovely, and he’d been trying to charm her, but it hadn’t worked. That infuriated him.
“Ye havena yet learned tae be gracious,” he said, his jaw twitching. “That is an unfortunate flaw, lass. Ye’d do well tae know that ye’ll catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. Ye may look like a rose, but ye have the disposition of a boar.”
Isadora replied before she could stop herself. “Only in the appropriate company.”
Drostan’s cheeks took on a ruddy cast and the tic in his jaw worsened. Isadora teetered between being sorry she’d spoken up and defiant in her position. She watched as Drostan stood up and came around to her side of the table, wondering if the man was going to strike her.
“Ye want tae know why I brought ye here? Then I’ll tell ye,” he growled as he looked down into her face. When she tried to scoot away from him as he sat down beside her, too close for comfort, he grabbed her by the arm so she couldn’t move far.
“I want ye tae look at the man I brought with me,” he said, pointing. “Do ye see him? He is the best warrior in all of Scotland and he’s sworn tae me. They call him The Beast.”
Isadora had no choice but to look at the hulking figure standing over near the hearth. He was looking at her with those wild eyes—they were dark, so dark they were the color of coal, but it was the way he was looking at her. Those eyes glittered and she could see the savage within.
“I see him,” she said, struggling against the fear that was clutching at her. “Where did he come from?”
“The Ludus Caledonia,” Drostan said with satisfaction. “Ye’ve never heard of it, have ye? Of course not. A lass who has never left her village. The Ludus Caledonia is a place where they make great warriors. I’ve paid for the man’s fealty, meaning he’ll do whatever I tell him tae do.”
“And what will ye tell him tae do?”
Drostan looked at her, then. “Yer clan has settled on land that doesna belong tae ye,” he said.
“It is Lindsay land, given over tae a whore who married intae Clan Keith. She inherited it from her father, who was my uncle a few generations back. The land should never have gone tae her. It has always been Lindsay land.”
“That still doesna tell me what ye’ll order yer Beast tae do.”
“That should be obvious. He’s tae destroy yer village, but more importantly, I’ll tell him tae destroy yer da.
Ye have brothers, too. I’ll tell him tae destroy yer brothers so there’ll be no more chieftains from yer da’s line.
I could destroy ye, too, but it would serve no purpose.
Ye’ll tell Niall Keith that if he doesna leave Auchnacree before the spring thaw, I’ll send my beast in tae destroy him and his bloodlines. ”
It wasn’t a surprising statement. Isadora found herself looking over at The Beast, who was quite unemotional about it all. Truly, he had no reason to behave otherwise—none of this meant anything to him.
But it meant something to her.
“I was born in Auchnacree,” she said, returning her focus to Drostan. “My mother is buried at the church in Glenogil. My entire family, generations back, has been born there. Ye’ve never even set foot in Auchnacree. Why would ye want something so badly that has no meaning tae ye?”
It was a genuine question, not a belligerent one. But Drostan was unsympathetic.
“Because it’s mine,” he said simply. “Those lands are mine.”
“Have ye ever spoken tae my da about paying ye tribute? Tribute tae remain on the land?”
That gave him pause. “We’ve offered tae pay him tae leave.”