Chapter 20
Sloane opened her eyes and stretched out her arms to touch Lachlan only to find his half of the bed empty.
First, she realized that she wasn’t in her own chambers.
Memories of the last couple of days hit her hard and she bolted upright.
With a small moan, she clutched the blankets around herself and realized that she wasn’t in the right chamber.
Who’d put her here?
Rubbing her hands over her face, Sloane pushed the covers back and rose from the bed.
The food and sleep made her feel stronger and even though she knew today would be just as hard, she would remember to eat more so she could endure.
After quickly braiding her hair, she straightened her dress and headed to the kitchen to receive her orders.
She’d missed the morning meal and Jean would probably have a few nasty words to say to her.
Today, she’d also have to sneak into Lachlan’s chambers and retrieve her clothes. Just another form of torture for her.
“Sloane,” Isla said softly before she could enter the kitchen. “I am sorry. I didna mean to interrupt, but I wanted to see how ye were feeling.”
Happy to see a face that wasn’t scowling at her, Sloane impulsively reached over and hugged her. “Ye doona have to apologize. After last night, I am indebted to ye.”
“Oh no, miss. I owe ye everything after what ye have done for me and I know that ye have done nothing wrong. People doona pay much attention to me here, but I have been watching everyone. I know that horrid Brisbane guard spoke to yer father before he went on the hunting trip and I heard what ye said to yer father as well. I didna mean to eavesdrop, but I was hoping that I could glean a way to thank ye for taking me in and giving me a home.”
“Isla, I thought ye didna like me. Ye could barely look at me.”
Blushing, the pretty maid looked down. “I am not used to people being kind to me.”
“Well, if ye want people to be kind to ye, ye should not be seen with me. I am not so popular right now.”
“I want to speak to the Laird. I am sure that when I tell him what I saw—”
“He knows,” Sloane told her gently. “He knows that I wasna responsible for Freya. Before I stood up to my father, I wanted to please him and in doing so, I betrayed the words I’d just vowed to my husband.
I’ve given him no reason to trust me, so I cannae fault him for this.
Like ye, I am pleased that I have a home. I mean to keep it.”
“’Tis not right,” Isla said sadly.
“Ye doona have to worry about me, Isla. I spent most of my life on my own. I am used to it. Now, go before anyone sees ye with me and fears that ye are conspiring with me.”
Nodding, Isla squeezed her hand and hurried away. When Sloane got to the kitchen, Jean was the only one in there. “Ye are late,” she snarled. “And ye can believe that I will be telling our Laird when I see him.”
“I apologize,” Sloane said stiffly. “Where do ye need me?”
A cruel smile spread across her face. “Ye arena working with me today. Lachlan is sending ye to the fields with Robina.”
Robina. Wonderful. The only person who could hate her more than Robina was Freya. “Where am I to meet her?”
“In the pasture with the cows. Enjoy yer day. A bit of sunshine might help with that ghastly complexion of yers. Honestly, how Lachlan ever thought ye would make a mistress of the keep, I will never know.”
She kept her face still so Jean didn’t realize how much the barb hurt and was thankful that she didn’t have to spend even one more minute in that horrible woman’s presence.
Leaving the keep, Sloane headed south to the cow pasture.
The land was already abuzz with activity as people went about their morning chores.
A few people shot her some curious glances, but at least no one was glaring at her.
At least not everyone knew or thought that she was a traitor.
Following the path, she hummed to herself to keep her spirits up and lifted her face to the sun.
Closing her eyes, Sloane inhaled deeply to find some strength to deal with Robina when a shadow fell over her. Stopping abruptly, she looked up and found Lachlan and a group of his warriors blocking the path. With the exception of Adair, Jamie, Blaine, and the others all scowled at her.
“My apologies,” she said softly as she stepped away from them. It hurt too much to look up at Lachlan so she looked away. All she wanted to do was to reach out and touch him, so she clasped her hands behind her back.
They continued on without a word. She swallowed hard and stepped back to continue on her way when a hand grabbed her elbow. Looking up, she gave Adair a faltering smile.
“Ye should not,” she said softly.
“I just want to see how ye are doing this morning.”
“Better. I thank ye for coming back and checking on me, but I doona think Lachlan will be happy if he realizes that ye moved me to another room.”
“I didna move ye to another room,” Adair said with a puzzled look.
Sloane opened her mouth and quickly closed it. If Adair didn’t move her, then who did?
“Ye should go,” she said softly as she looked behind them. Blaine was already looking over his shoulder at them and she didn’t want Adair to get into trouble. Watching him walk away, she wondered if she’d walked in her sleep last night. What other explanation could there be?
Robina was waiting for her in the pasture with a malicious look on her face. “Ye are late. I will be reporting this to the Laird.”
“’Tis like ye and Jean are cut from the same cloth,” Sloane muttered under her breath before she showered Robina with what she hoped was a dazzling smile.
Sloane knew there was no way she could win over the older woman. As Isla’s mother, the woman despised her, but she’d hated her from the moment she married Lachlan. Sloane suspected that the woman was friendly with Quinn and blamed his death on her father or her clan or maybe just her.
At least she was rested and fed. “I apologize for being tardy, but I am here now. How can I help ye today?”
“The water troughs need to be cleaned, so I suggest ye start there. From there, the fresh hay bales need to be rolled out and the cows need to be milked. I suggest that ye get to it if ye plan on finishing before midnight. I’ll be by frequently to check on yer work,” Robina said snidely before she walked away.
Taking a deep breath, Sloane made her way through the overgrown grass to the troughs.
Last night’s rain had them overflowing and the sides were green with algae.
With a groan, she managed to swing the first up on its hinges and dump out the water.
As it rushed to the ground, it splattered up on her feet and the skirts of her dress.
By the time she’d dumped each one, she was filthy and drenched.
Trudging to the water well, Sloane filled pail after pail and finished cleaning and refilling the wooden troughs.
The rest of the morning had passed and the sun was already high in the sky.
Her muscles were aching and she wasn’t sure how she was going to finish her chores when all she wanted to do was sit and rest.
“I see that yer husband has finally seen the error of his ways,” a grim voice said.
Silently cursing her bad luck, Sloane turned to find the priest grinning cruelly at her over his long thin nose.
“Ye should be thankful that he has not cast you out of the lands. Ye must work off yer sins.”
“Really?” Sloane said dryly. “I doona think God cares how many troughs I clean in penance.”
“Then confess,” he urged. “Confess to me so I can set ye on the right path.”
“I have confessed my sins to my husband. I willna confess them to a man who has already stated that he thinks I am a charlatan.”
“Yer husband does not have the ear of God, but I do, my child. Unless ye confess yer sins to me, ye willna find yer place in heaven.”
Privately, Sloane thought that if anyone’s place in heaven was dependent on a hateful man like Father Shaw, they were all destined for hell anyway. “If ye will excuse me, Father, I still have things that I need to attend to,” she said as she brushed by him.
He grabbed her arm to stop her and in doing so, he saved her life.
The arrow came out of nowhere and grazed her arm as it embedded in the wooden fence next to her. With a gasp, Sloane shoved the priest to the half-eaten bale of hay next to them and crouched behind it next to him.
“What in heavens is happening!” he cried out.
“It must be someone practicing their archery.” Even as she grasped at the explanation, it didn’t make sense to her.
Father Shaw shook his head. “The training fields are in the opposite direction. Someone is in the woods aiming for the pasture.”
“Perhaps a hunter?”
“There are no hunting parties out right now.”
Impatient, Sloane turned her head to glare at him. “Honestly, I doona believe the why is so important right now. We cannae stay here for long.”
“If ye think that it is an accident then, by all means, go.”
He didn’t make a move and Sloane rolled her eyes. It appeared that the father was a coward on top of everything else. Slowly, she raised her head above the bale of hay. Instantly, another arrow rang out and embedded itself right in front of her.
“Ye are bleeding,” Shaw said in horror as he noticed her arm.
“Aye. The first arrow grazed me. Someone is aiming for us. We have to make a run for it.”
Her heart hammered in her chest with fear. It was more likely that the archer was aiming for her, but she didn’t want to voice that out loud. Lachlan wouldn’t have sent someone to kill her. There was no way that she could believe that.
Shaw rose and Sloane immediately pulled him down.
“Not now. He’s had time to reload his bow by now. When the next arrow sings, head to the trough and keep yer head down. From there, we should be able to sneak behind the barn. Are ye ready?”
“Aye,” Shaw muttered with naked fear in his eyes.
Taking a deep breath, Sloane grabbed the water pail and tossed it up in the air. The arrow splintered it. “Now,” she gasped.
In his haste to run, Shaw rammed his elbow back right into her stomach and Sloane fell on her back as he ran. By the time she righted herself, she knew she didn’t have time to follow him and she was out of anything she could use as a distraction.
Trapped.
“Father Shaw,” she hissed. “Father Shaw!”
There was no answer. The priest had made it to the trough and took off. She could only pray that he would send help.
In the meantime, the bleeding on her arm was getting worse.
Her skirts were still wet, so there was no use in using them to sop up the bleeding.
Unsure of how long she would be, she untied the ribbon in her hair and tied it just above the wound.
The bleeding slowed and she thanked her curiosity and the books that went into too much detail about caring for battle wounds.
Sloane wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but when she heard the steady footsteps headed her way, she inhaled sharply and closed her eyes. If she could tell which direction the footsteps were coming from, she could crawl in the other direction and keep the hay between them.
“Sloane,” Lachlan’s voice roared. “Where are ye?”
“I’m here!” she cried out, relieved that it was her husband.
“What are ye…?” He rounded the hay and stopped short when he saw her arm. “Ye’ve been wounded.”
“’Tis just a scratch. Did Father Shaw find ye?”
“Aye with some ridiculous story that someone was trying to kill him.” Bending down, he helped her to her feet and examined the wound. Slowly, he touched the ribbon. “Yer mother’s ribbon,” he said quietly.
“I had nothing else,” she said stiffly. “Besides, it doesna matter. ’Twas silly to think that I could keep her memory alive with a ribbon anyway. She wasna the woman that I thought she was.”
“What do ye mean?”
Sloane shook her head. She didn’t want to go into any detail of her mother’s treachery. She understood not wanting to love her father, but she had a feeling her mother hadn’t fallen ill that night. She’d left to see her lover and she’d left Sloane behind to do it.
“It doesna matter. We cannae stay here. Ye might be hit.” Pushing him toward the barn, Sloane glanced anxiously over her shoulder, but there were no more arrows headed her way.
“I have men scouring the wood. Ye are safe. Come, we must get ye inside.”
Gritting her teeth, she shook her head and took a step back. “If there is no more danger to me then I have to finish my chores. I must roll out the bales of hay and milk the cows.”
“Roll out the bales of hay?” His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Sloane, I doona know who gave ye that chore, but they are too heavy for ye and before ye squawk about not being delicate, let me remind ye that it takes at least two men to do it. Why do ye smell so? Did ye fall into the water trough?”
Blushing, she took another step away from him. She was starting to smell as bad as the pigs. “Nay. I was changing the water in the trough.”
“Ye were…” he snarled. “Who gave ye these orders? Never mind. Ye will probably just lie to me. Ye are going inside and taking a bath or so help me, I will make ye sleep with the cattle.”
A hot bath did sound lovely, but she didn’t deserve it. Shaking her head, she tried to protest again, but her husband just hissed, grabbed her arm, and hauled her back to the path and back to the keep.
“Ye will bathe and eat and I doona want to hear any arguments. Ye are trying my patience.”
She couldn’t be his wife and now she couldn’t even take her punishment properly. Her arm throbbed and she pressed her hand to the wound and walked in silence.