Page 12 of At the Highlander's Mercy
For years she’d observed her uncle negotiating and watched her father be both theBeastand the wise leader. This was the time to use everything she’d learned to save herself, her honour and possibly save the man she’d wanted to marry all those years ago. Taking a deep breath, she loosened the blanket and pushed it down. She must be ready to face him on his return.
‘I would like to wash, if that’s permitted,’ she said quietly without looking at Beathas. Without a word, Beathas went to the door, opened it and whispered to whoever stood guard there.
‘Some hot water will be here for you soon. And something warm to drink as well, lass.’
Lilidh sat in the quiet, waiting for those things and trying to see a pattern in what Symon had said while taunting her and in what Rob had said in the hall, snatches of which came drifting back to her now as she thought about it. For certain, she’d been taken because of her father, though little had been said about her connection to Iain and the MacGregors. Only muffled curses and a few words had been directed at her after they’d tied, gagged and hooded her and brought her here.
She thought that Symon might have initiated this action in trying to force Rob’s hand. If she’d been coherent and uninjured during her taking, she might have learned more. Now, as a loud knock startled her from her thoughts, she would have to wait.
Beathas answered it, opening the door widely to allow entrance to whoever waited. A large wooden tub was rolled in and placed to one side of the chamber. Men followed, carrying buckets of steaming water. A woman entered with a pile of linens and handed them to Beathas. Lilidh watched out the corner of her eye, having no desire to meet what she was sure would be the curious gazes of these Mathesons.
Once the room had emptied and Beathas had arranged things as she wanted them to be, Lilidh pushed herself out of the chair and stood. She could not stop the groan of pain as her body fought her efforts to move. A warm cup was pressed into her hands before she knew it.
‘Betony tea. To soothe the hurts and ease your moving around.’
Deciding she could not sort things out and accomplish anything until she was recovered, Lilidh sipped from the cup and discovered the tea was sweetened and flavourful. She drank a bit and then handed it back to Beathas.
‘I will finish it after I wash,’ she said, limping to the side of the tub. Reaching down, she swirled her fingers in the water and found it to be steaming hot—perfect for a long soak. ‘I can see to this myself.’
The expected argument from the old woman did nothappen. Beathas moved a short stool close to the tub and placed the drying linens and a small bowl of soap on it.
‘Summon me if you wish help with your hair,’ Beathas said as she walked to the door. ‘Have a care for the wound.’
If there had been a way to lock or bar the door,
Lilidh would have. Seeing none, she steadied herself and dropped the blanket from her shoulders. She gathered up the length of the shift she wore and pulled it over her head, dropping it to the floor where it would remain dry. Shaking her head, she glanced around the chamber for her gown and did not see it. Had Beathas taken it?
No matter, she thought, grasping the side of the tub and easing her stronger leg over the side. Once on the bottom of it, she pulled her bad leg into the water. Using the sides of the tub, she slid slowly down until she sat. It was large enough for her to stretch out her legs and she moaned as the hot water surrounded her tight muscles and the scars. Other than walking, a hot bath did much to loosen the tightness when the cramping came upon her. After the last several days, this was nigh to heaven, so she leaned back and let the heat seep into her.
Though used to Isla’s gentle ministrations during her baths, Lilidh managed to scrub the dirt from her legs and arms and even wash her hair, though she thought she might spill more water from the tub than she left in it. Once done, she soaked in the water until it lost its heat. Having a care not to slip, she climbed from the water, wrapped her hair in a cloth and then used another to dry off the rest of her. She’d just claimed the warm,woolen blanket again, clutching it around the once again worn shift, when the door opened.
‘The laird has called for your presence down in the hall,’ Beathas said. She placed the bundle of clothing she carried on the bed and reached up to help with
Lilidh’s hair. ‘I will plait it for you for now. He was clear that you not delay.’
From the frown on Beathas’s face and her lack of encouragement, Lilidh knew this could not be a good thing. Feeling more revived from the bath, she allowed Beathas to help her dress in the plain gown, stockings and shoes she’d brought. Once done, she tried to fortify herself for whatever would come. When the door opened and Rob’s man stood waiting with a rope, Lilidh was not certain she would ever be ready.
Chapter Six
Symon strode through the hall towards the tower where his and Tyra’s chambers were. Climbing the stairs and reaching her rooms, he knocked and lifted the latch without waiting for a response. Angered at the path his plans had taken, he would not be left standing in the corridor waiting like some fool. His sister glared at him, but said nothing. With a nod of his head, the two maids helping her dress fled. Tyra turned back to her looking glass and arranged a ribbon that drooped loosely down her cheek.
Women! Damn them all!
Symon crossed the chamber in a few strides and yanked the ribbon free, causing several locks of Tyra’s hair to fall as well. He tossed the ribbon in her face and crossed his arms. Instead of looking fearful or giving him the respect he deserved from her, she just smiled, selected another strip of material from her collections and wove her hair back in place. All without a word to him! Just when his fist itched to teach her her rightful place, she spoke.
‘So what is my betrothed’s new mistress like, Symon?’
‘Mistress? Give her not some title as exalted as mistress, Tyra. She is nothing but a MacLerie whore warming his bed.’
‘Only that, then?’ she replied. Symon’s own brow twitched as Tyra raised one of hers in question. ‘Only a woman in his bed?’
‘You know the way of things, Sister. He will use her until her father gives in to our demands and then she will be gone from here.’
‘Was that your plan? When you brought her here?’ Her voice was so calm it gave him pause. Instead of screaming at him as her usual custom would be, she had not raised her voice or seemed angered by what he’d done.
‘My plan was to keep her as my captive, in my bed, until her father paid for her release,’ Symon admitted.
The sight of Lilidh MacLerie riding along the forest road had aroused him. He’d planned on claiming her body and using it as he wished when she was his to command. Then her daring actions, fighting his men and trying to protect the old woman, heated his blood and his lust for her almost overpowered him. Oh, aye, she would be good for some bold bedplay. Even now his body readied to take hers. Only his sister’s cough brought his attention back to their conversation.
