Page 71 of A Virgin for the Icy Laird
Relief washed over Emily. “I thank ye, Mrs. Donnelly,” she said. “What would I do without ye?”
“I’ll have none of that,” Mrs. Donnelly quipped, smiling as she walked off.
“I am sorry, Emi,” Elize mumbled.
“’Tis alright, Sister,” Emily said. “Might I have a moment to meself?”
Elize nodded. “I will find ye in the workroom later.” Then she left.
Emily sighed and made her way to the workroom, thankful it was empty so she could work without being interrupted. The familiar caress of the needles in her hand and the steady clicking of the metal lulled her into a blissful state and eased her anxiety.
Now that she was calmer, she could look back on their conversation and on the man himself. His face was somewhat familiar, but she couldn’t place where she had seen him before.
Harried footsteps and voices outside the workroom had her looking up, before Mrs. Donnelly burst into the room, looking flustered.
Emily set her needles down and rose to her feet. “Is something wrong?”
“There are men at the gate, me Lady,” Mrs. Donnelly panted. “They have come for ye and yer sister.”
Panic flared in Emily’s chest.
What men? The only man who could think to look for her would be the master of the orphanage.
She wanted to cry. She couldn’t imagine going back there, not now.
“Where is Elize?” she asked. “And is the Laird aware?”
Mrs. Donnelly shook her head. “He is away on a hunt, but I have sent someone to fetch him.”
“Did they say why they’re here?”
“They said that ye and Elize are wanted for stealing from Clan MacSweeny,” Mrs. Donnelly answered.
“That is a lie!” Emily scoffed indignantly.
“We ken, but ye must come so we can refute them together.”
Emily followed the housekeeper out of the room, anger and panic warring within her. Surely this was all a mistake, and it would be resolved once the men saw that they had the wrong people.
Elize joined them at the entrance to the courtyard, looking as confused as she felt. Emily squeezed her sister’s hand as they moved to the gates.
She spotted some of the clansmen already speaking to the two men.
“Laird MacSweeny sent us. He received word from a neighboring village that the two sisters are wanted for theft. We’ve been ordered to arrest and deliver them to the clan,” one of the men said.
Elize rushed forward. “We have done nothing wrong!” she cried. “What proof do ye have of what ye say?”
The man reached into the inner pocket of his coat and took out a letter. Emily noticed the lack of a seal where a laird would have pressed his signet ring.
“This is a letter from Laird MacSweeny and—” the man produced another letter with familiar penmanship—“these are orders from Laird MacDonnell asking ye to cooperate. If ye are innocent as ye claim, then ye have nothing to fear.”
Emily couldn’t refuse, not when they had seemingly convincing proof and a plausible explanation. Plus, she doubted the clansmen would disobey Adair for a lass they hardly knew. She could not stall until his return, whenever that would be.
“What are yer names, and where exactly will ye be taking them?” Mrs. Donnelly asked.
“Walter Boyd and Dougal MacIntyre,” the same man answered. “We’re taking them to MacSweeny Castle, and if they’re innocent, we’ll escort them back here.”
They were really going.
