Page 6 of A Laird and a Healer

“Ye would dare lie tae me? Liars are worse than thieves. I should string the lot of ye up now and be done with ye,” he spat. “Or, better yet, throw ye intae a fire and watch ye burn. That’s the fate that anyone possessing that emblem deserves,” he jabbed a finger in the direction of her emblem.

“Please, I dinnae mean tae deceive ye. We are in danger. There’s⁠—”

Laird Knox bent down and grabbed her chin. It was more shocking than painful, and it caused her to fall in silence. His breath was warm, his voice low.

“Ye should know that I dinnae care about yer story. I dinnae care what happened tae ye. Ye are a Gilmour, and any Gilmour is unwelcome on my lands. Ye are wretches, the lot of ye.”

He let go of his forceful grip and her head twisted to the side. He walked up to his servant and grabbed the mug, as well as the jug of wine. Then, after a moment of considering the two items, he shoved the mug back into the hands of the servant and drank from the jug directly. The wine poured down his chin and spilled on the floor like drops of blood. He slurped loudly and then belched. His body was angled away from Caroline, as though he couldn’t even bear to look at her.

“Take them away. I dinnae want them in my presence. It’s tae late tae think clearly. I will decide what tae dae with them in the morning. They could make for valuable prisoners, or kindling,” he growled.

Neither option was palatable for Caroline. She and her sisters were hauled to their feet. Caroline couldn’t bear to look at them. She had failed them. In the absence of their parents, she was supposed to take care of them, to protect them, and she had failed.

They were now at the mercy of a man who saw them as the enemy, who would not listen to reason, and had no room for compassion in his soul. They might as well begin counting the hours of their dwindling lives, for their fate would soon be sealed, and she was certain that it would be written in blood.

Chapter 3

They were taken to a sparsely decorated room. A thin rug lay upon the floor, while a single bed was against the wall. There was a dresser with a single candle atop it, but no way to light it. They were shoved roughly into the room. The dim light made everything barely perceptible, and Caroline had to struggle to make anything out. The bindings were cut away from her wrists, offering relief from the pain.

She turned, begging for mercy, but the door was already being slammed shut. A key twisted in the lock—a damnable sound.

Tara and Nessa were at least free of their bonds as well. Tara slumped onto the bed, her arm falling over her face. She let out a pitiful moan. Nessa rushed to the window and flung it open. She looked out and cursed.

Caroline peered over her shoulder. It was a sheer drop to the ground, far too far for anyone to survive. Caroline closed the window, shutting out the cold.

“Well, this is a fine mess ye hae gotten us intae,” Nessa spat, rubbing her wrists as she perched on the edge of the bed.

“Me?” Caroline asked, shocked.

“Aye, ye said we weren’t gaeing anywhere near Knox territory.”

“Ye are the one who insisted on stealing the food before anyone could talk sense intae ye! We could hae sneaked past those guards.”

“I was just trying tae feed us!”

“Stop it!” Tara cried out. She pushed herself into a sitting position. Her voice trembled with emotion. “I dinnae want ye tae fight. What good is fighting gaeing tae dae us?”

Caroline took a breath. “I thought if he believed our story, he might take pity on us.”

“It was a good story,” Nessa conceded. They were often quick to argue, but the nature of their relationship was one where hostilities could be calmed almost immediately. “Right now, I would love tae be a merchant’s daughter, rather than what we are.”

“There’s naething wrong with what we are,” Caroline said tersely. “We should still be proud of our family name. I dinnae understand why the Laird bears such resentment taewards our family. It’s probably some territorial dispute.”

“It always comes down to land,” Nessa replied sagely.

“But as long as we are alive, we hae a chance tae change his mind and show him that we deserve his mercy. I am nae willing tae accept my fate, and I am nae gaeing tae end up like other trespassers.”

“I think he might hae other plans for ye,” Nessa confessed.

Caroline ignored her words, and the unscratchable itch at the base of her neck.

“We should get some rest at least. Gae tae bed. Things may seem better in the morning.”

Nessa and Tara shared the bed, while Caroline curled up on the floor. The rug offered scant comfort. She placed a hand beneath her head and closed her eyes, but sleep did not come easily. All she could see in her mind’s eye was the fearsome visage of Laird Knox, and the terror of what fate he had in store for them.

She awoke the following day to pale strands of light caressing her face. Her heart was enlivened when the key turned in the lock and the door was opened, but it was swiftly shut again. They were left with a simple breakfast of bread, cheese, and water to share among them.

The rest of the day was spent in isolation. Occasionally, Caroline heard footsteps outside the room and muffled voices, but she could not make out anything distinct. Her heart often spiked with fear, though, presuming that Laird Knox was going to make himself known and terrify them once again.