Page 76 of Bride of the Sinful Laird
Edmund got to his feet and Annora caught her breath, silently praying that the Elders would accept what Edmund had to say.
“I thank ye all fer yer hospitality during the weeks I have spent at Scorrybreac. I have learnt much about meself and me clan. This is the place I now call home, and I accept with humble pleasure the Elders’ direction. I am willing tae accept the lairdship of Clan MacNeacail.”
The elders smiled, applauding his words.
Annora swallowed a huge boulder that had just appeared in her throat as Edmund remained standing.
“Yet before continuing, there is something of great importance I must address…”
She held her breath, waiting for the words that could put paid to his dream of the lairdship.
His listeners frowned. Tormod turned to the others, shaking his head, looking surprised.
It was at that moment, that there came a heavy pounding at the door. Tormod got to his feet.
“Excuse me, I must see to this.”
He opened the study door and a guard stepped in.
“Apologies, me lords. I have a messenger here who claims he has vital information about Laird Sinclair and his Lady.”
“Tell the man tae wait. We’re busy here.”
At that, a tall man stepped forward and confronted Tormod.
“I beg yer pardon. I have come wi’ an urgent message fer the Laird of the MacNeacail Clan from the Laird Graham Munro of Foulis, the faither of the Lady Annora.”
Tormod’s eyes widened in shock for an instant but said nothing and remained composed.
Unlike Annora, whose hand flew to her cover her mouth and swayed in her seat, perilously close to fainting. She recognizedthe Munro plaid the man was wearing. Edmund, who remained on his feet, leaned over and quickly poured some ale for her. She took it gratefully in wildly shaking hands.
Edmund strode to the door as the man passed a folded and sealed parchment into Tormod’s hands.
He passed the letter to Edmund and bade the messenger to wait in the refectory for a reply.
Annora held her breath as Edmund walked back to the table, his jaw clenched, his face carved in rigid lines. Her belly felt as if an icy boulder had just landed in it, and was churning every scant mouthful of the porridge she’d forced herself to swallow.
“Please read it tae us, Laird Edmund.” Tormod said. All eyes were on Edmund as he tore the seal and unfolded the missive.
His voice shook as he read:I have lately learned that me daughter, the Lady Annora Munro, is being held against her will at Castle Scorrybreac. The lady is betrothed to Baron Sir Bertram Radcliffe of Cumbria. Tae avoid conflict, I demand that the Lady Annora be immediately returned tae me care.
At first, a terrible silence greeted the words.
Annora could scarcely breathe. This was far worse than she’d ever imagined. Before Edmund had even spoken to the Elders, their secret was out.
She moaned loudly, breaking the desperate pause. Edmund, his face as grey as ash, reached out to her, placing his hand on hers.
Beside her, she registered Tyra’s indrawn breath and a loud ‘pshaw’ from Harris who unfolded his arms and leaned forward.
Before Tormod or the Elders could speak, Edmund shook his head.
“I’ll nae allow the Lady tae be handed tae a brute. Although we are nay wed, she is under me protection and I’ll dae everything in me power tae keep her safe from those who would dae her harm.”
Tormod regarded Annora with a steady gaze.
“Me Lady Annora, ye have heard this message from yer faither and ye’ve heard what Edmund has just said. What are yer wishes?”
Annora could hardly speak, her heart stuttering alarmingly against her ribs, yet Edmund’s words gave her strength. She lifted her head in defiance.
