Page 29 of At the Highlander's Mercy
‘Stay out of the way until you’re told to move down the corridor.’
And with that one command, he was gone.
* * *
It did not take long for the servants, and guards, to arrive to move Rob’s belongings. She remained in the chair, watching them, until the guard named Tomas ordered her to come along. Lilidh was almost to the last chamber near the stairs to the battlements when the door to the room next to it opened and Lady Tyra stepped out.
Tyra examined her from head to toe and her expression turned to one of disgust, as though she’d stepped her precious new slipper into something the horses dropped behind them. Part of her could understand the lady’s anger now that she understood Tyra’s relationship to Rob, but she should know that Lilidh had little or no control over her stay here.
‘Is this your chamber, Lady Tyra?’ Lilidh asked. The lady’s gasp drew the attention of everyone in the now-busy corridor.
‘Do not speak to me, you harlot!’ she replied. Theslap—though with her hand closed in a fist, it felt more like a punch—that accompanied the insult was the surprise. ‘You may warm his bed and see to his baser needs, but do not think yourself worthy to speak to me.’
Lilidh recoiled from the blow and touched her cheek. She felt Tomas at her back, but pushed away from him. Truth be told, Lilidh had a higher standing as the daughter of an earl and laird than Tyra did. She should be glad that Lilidhdeignedto speak to her!
‘Guard! Get her out of my sight!’ Tyra called out. Tomas moved forwards, taking Lilidh by the arm and leading her away.
‘And worry not, whore,’ Tyra whispered so only
Lilidh could hear. ‘Your days in his bed are numbered.’
The venom in her voice sent shards of ice and fire and terror through Lilidh. When Lilidh turned back to look at her face as Tomas dragged her the few paces to Rob’s new chambers, Tyra’s expression was blank. If one was just looking at her now, it would be impossible to believe the ugly words and tone she’d just spoken in to Lilidh. Tomas pushed her inside and closed the door, leaving her alone. Had she imagined the hatred and danger in the woman’s words? Somehow she thought not.
Looking around her new quarters, she found a chamber twice the size of Rob’s previous one. More of a surprise was the small cot in one corner, not far from the huge rope-strung bed that dominated the entire room. This one was much more like the one her parents shared—large enough for two and his business as laird, yet made more comfortable by small personal touches.
Rob’s father’s?
Seeing a basin and a bucket of water, she dipped a cloth in the water and placed it on her face, allowing the coolness to soothe the place where Tyra had struck her. Then she stayed out of the way while the servants completed the move of Rob’s belongings here. And hers, it seemed, since one of her trunks also appeared with the others. When had that been retrieved?
Unable and unwilling to sit idly by while the servants worked to organise the chambers according to Rob’s preferences, she found the basket of garments to be repaired, gathered some threads and a needle and sat working. She did not miss the gossip that the women especially began whispering as they worked. Lilidh kept her head down as though she did not hear them, letting them sink back into the invisibility in which servants usually existed.
Lilidh discovered several interesting things from the servants over the hour or so that they worked there.
This had, indeed, been Rob’s father’s chamber when he was alive and Rob had refused to use it until now.
Rob’s cousin Symon had kidnapped her without Rob’s consent.
The last thing was the worst—they all expected to be dead once her father arrived.
Having the reputation that her father had and having earned most of it was a distinct advantage in war. Lilidh understood that. But to hear these people speak of their deaths so openly was horrible. Her father did not simply put innocents to death—his enemy in this would suffer, not them. For now, she chose not to correct their mis-assumptions, for they were a distinctadvantage for her father and hopefully would bring this all to a peaceful close.
And then she would be returned to her parents to be given away again, leaving the only man she had ever loved behind once more. In spite of the horror at his earlier actions and the desperate anger and dejection at his disavowal, she could not deny that she had loved him and only him so far in her life.
If she was the cause of the breach between her father and him, and considering this latest insult in kidnapping her, she and Rob would have no possible chance now. His only choice was to expose and disavow Symon’s actions as that of a renegade and turn him over to the MacLeries for their punishment and she understood that Rob would never do that. He was trying to be a good leader to his clan—as good a laird as he thought her father and his had been.
Once the servants had left and Siusan had brought her more sewing to do, she thought about the letter once more. Maybe Rob would find one of the elders who knew more about it? This day passed slowly, the noisiness outside increased from the number of people using the chambers nearby and she wondered what her father would indeed do about her.
* * *
‘What happened before this letter, Murtagh?’ Rob asked.
Though he would rather speak to one of the other
elders, one who supported him, it turned out that Murtagh might be the only one who knew what had beengoing on those months ago. Now, after trying to evade speaking with him in private, the man shrugged.
‘I know you think Symon should be laird and I have no problem with you having your own opinion. But I am laird now and there is a war coming to our gates. I need to know what brought that war to us.’
Rob held out a mug to the man and poured a good measure of whisky into both. Then he took the letter from the table and gave it to the counsellor. Murtagh was educated—he could read and write and even understood Latin—so Rob waited while he read it. The surprise in his eyes told Rob much.
