Charming the Chieftain (22 page)

Elisande made an inelegant snort. “Really? Her own brother-in-law had no qualms about killing his … dear God …
her
brother too, and yet she thought nothing of it when Addis wielded his knife against Aeden?”

“Do not judge Maeri too harshly, niece. Gavin never took to the child, and when Aeden was born, all his love was poured into his son.”

Weary of the argument, Elisande sighed. “I do have sympathy for what Maeri must have gone through, however, I cannot understand the kind of love that overlooks cruelty.”

“Even after Maeri’s death, banishment was the only solution my brother was willing to entertain, and it took him years to finally approach Bran Kerr.”

“But why so long?”

Tam cast a sympathetic glance at her aunt. “Addis was Gavin’s only link left to Maeri. Sorry, Onora.”

A despondent expression overtook her aunt’s visage. She patted Tam’s arm. “’Tis all right. I always knew I was second to Maeri in my husband’s affections.”

Heaviness settled on Elisande’s heart.

“Unfortunately, Gavin died within months of the negotiations with Bran and the task fell to Aeden.”

There was sourness in the pit of her stomach as she looked between the two. “You both know I must tell Aeden.”

Onora’s mouth worked, yet no sound issued forth.

“No. I should be the one to impart the foul story. It should have been done long ago by his father, and now it falls to me in Gavin’s stead,” insisted Tam.

Elisande agreed though she added, “Just the same, I shall be at my husband’s side when you speak with him.”

Tam’s faint smile softened the hard lines of his face. “You are a woman worthy of the Maxwell name, niece.”

Elisande couldn’t find the words to respond. Disturbed by the account, she squeezed her comfort stone until her palm ached. The action did nothing to compose her riotous emotions. For the first time since she was a child, the smooth texture and repeated caress failed to soothe her disquiet.

“Elisande, you’ve gone pale. I knew we should never have told her the sordid details,” Onora chided Tam.

She offered her aunt a wan smile. “Do not fret, aunt, ’tis all right.”

Muttering under her breath about pig-headed men, Onora moved to the washstand and submerged a cloth in the water bowl.

“You’ve had a bit of a shock, I’m sure. Sit back and drape this around your neck.”

Too unsettled to be coddled, Elisande shoved back from the table and hastened to the solar door.

“Where are you going?”

Good question. “I need fresh air.”

“Eli — ”

Elisande yanked on the handle and dashed down the corridor ignoring the odd looks thrown her way. She couldn’t breathe. The horror of what Aeden’s mother had survived only to raise a child the likes of Addis must have broken the woman.

Unmindful of her destination, she inhaled the crisp autumn air and grappled with the unthinkable. Her stone failed to provide comfort. She wondered over the unforeseen development.

If only Aeden were here, she thought.

In a trice, an odd sensation struck her. The more she concentrated on Aeden’s image the less agitated she became and the calmer she felt. In that instance, she experienced a jaw-dropping revelation. The stone no longer brought comfort for the simple reason that Aeden had become her solace. And just as she knew the sun would dawn on the morrow, Aeden would be there for her, too.

Removing the stone from her pocket, she stared at its oblong shape. It made her a bit sad to think a cold, hard piece of earth had been her one true means of consolation for so many years.

Now, her husband was her comfort.

A smile spread across her face. Gratified, she peered out over the deep waters of the loch. A hint of wood smoke tinged the air. The strident call of a curlew broke the silence, and she closed her eyes reveling in the knowledge she truly found her place in the harsh, yet, beautiful land. Finally free of the past, she opened her eyes and hurled her comfort stone into the peaty depths of the dark loch.

Awash in her reflections, she was unaware of how long she stood there. The gentle lapping had lulled her somewhat. When pinkish-orange streaks of sunlight strafed the sky, and the cool air penetrated her plaid, she remembered her long ago promise to Aeden. She hadn’t meant to stroll about unattended, nor so far removed from the safety of Caeverlark’s grounds. The need to sort through her out of control emotions drove her to seek the solitude of the loch.

The winds picked up and the opaque water churned violently. The earth shifted from loose sand to compacted dirt beneath her feet as she backtracked up the path to the holding. She caught site of something that seemed out of place in the undergrowth. The observation caused the hair on the back of her next to prickle in alarm. She realized, too late, it had been foolish to wander so far from the safety of Caeverlark’s grounds. Wolves were known to inhabit the countryside. Her heightened awareness allowed her to detect movement from the brush, though it proved fruitless to confront the source of the odd noise. She needn’t borrow trouble.

With a sense of urgency, she continued along the overgrown trail, unable to completely discount the sensation of being hunted. Without warning, a hand grabbed the hem of her plaid and ripped the fabric halfway to the thigh. Stifling a scream, she whipped around to face her attacker and she slumped in relief when she recognized the culprit. She bent at the waist to release her skirt from the clutches of a branch, and admonished herself for leaping to unfounded conclusions.

Reassured, she set off up the hill. Her stomach rumbled with hunger. It had been hours since she noon meal.

“Onora will surely have a laugh at my fanciful imagination.”

She spoke aloud to dispel the disquiet subverting her self-possession. She quickened her steps in anticipation of the noisy dining atmosphere when a sharp tug on her plaid impeded progress once again.

“Apparently, it is not possible for me to arrive at the keep without shredding my garments further.”

Her sigh of exasperation was overtaken by a scream when a large hand seized her from behind cutting off her air.

“Hello, sister.”

Her mind reeled in shock. Tam stood in the courtyard that morn along with Onora to witness Addis’ departure.
How could he be here?
Her brain tried to sort through the tangle of questions that vied for attention. She struggled to think as her air dwindled, until her only concern was her next breath.

He tightened his grip on her throat, shook her roughly, and whispered, “Where is your savior now?”

Her eyes rolled back and she drifted into a blackened abyss devoid of light and noise. Abruptly he let up on the pressure and shoved her hard to the ground.

“You will not escape your fate by fainting. Oh no, I want you awake when I take you.”

She dragged crisp night air into her burning lungs praying she recovered her breath before he inflicted any more damage. Large, rough hands seized her calves. Fragments of rock gouged her back and head as he dragged her across the hard ground into the inky blackness of the woods — her struggles futile against his superior strength. A few yards in, he stopped, dropped to his knees landing hard between her widespread thighs. Single-handed, he tossed his plaid aside to reveal his arousal. She knew a moment of abject terror when he leaned over her, and his erection slid along her leg. Pressing her lips together, she swallowed a sob and prayed desperately to awaken from this nightmare safe and secure in Aeden’s arms.

An excited grunt from Addis forced her to face the truth of her situation. No one could save her. She had to save herself. She opened her eyes and squandered precious moments to adjust to the waning light.

Addis’s attention honed in on her exposed flesh. Now would be her one opportunity for escape. Slow, she moved her hand out, curled it into a fist and landed a blow to the side of his face. She connected with his nose, or so she thought. Whatever she hit momentarily stunned him, and loosened his hold. She scurried out from underneath him and scrabbled backwards scooting across the ground on her bottom. He staggered to his feet holding his nose and lurched in her direction, but she had gained her feet and tore off into the brush.

“Elisande!”

She looked back once. The sound of his stumbling footfalls spurred her on. Thin, stiff branches from low-limbed trees punctured her face and arms creating tiny beads of blood on her skin. Oblivious to the pain, she ploughed through the undergrowth. At one point, she pulled free of her shredded plaid, which left only her under blouse intact.

“Elisande!” Addis shouted.

He was closing in on her. Panic threatened to overwhelm her ability to think. Branches tore at her hair and blouse. Her burst of strength waned. She didn’t think she could keep up the pace much longer. The woods seemed endless and escape futile. Thoughts of collapse entered her mind and she almost gave in to the urge when a distant noise buzzed in her ears. Straining to place the unfamiliar sound, she turned her head into the wind.

Water!

She circled back toward the loch. If she could reach the shoreline before Addis, her cries for help would carry across the water to the guards on the parapet. She burst through a break in the trees and onto the beachhead. Along the shoreline to the south, she caught a glimmer of torch light above the tree line. She cupped her hands around her mouth and cried out.

“Help … someone, please, help me!”

The echo of her plea reverberated around the loch. It wouldn’t be long before Addis found her out, so she altered her direction skirting the path to Caeverlark using the lighted battlement to guide her. An exposed rock tripped her up and she fell heavily against a large oak. Tears of frustration gathered in her eyes, but she righted herself, pushed off the tree and continued on, even though a slight amount of weight on her ankle proved painful. She couldn’t let it slow her down — not when she had a good chance of making it to the holding. Inner strength and pure grit fueled her determination up the path.

A few yards to her left a twig snapped. She dropped to the ground, and rooted around for a weapon. Her hand skimmed over a sizeable rock. She wrapped her fingers around the stone and clutched it while she crawled further into the undergrowth. Just then, a dark shape appeared on the path. She swallowed, convinced he heard her heart’s disjointed rhythm, she froze, uncertain how long she could remain undetected. His breathing was heavy. Pebble, twigs and dry leaves crunched under his heavy footfalls and she knew he headed right for her. Either she stayed hidden and waited for him to discover her, try to out run him on a twisted ankle, or, attack. From her crouched position, she guessed the distance between them and lunged at him.

She dug her nails into his calf and latched on with the ferocity of dog on a haunch of mutton. He hit the dirt hard. Seizing the moment, she straddled him and brought the weighty stone down on his chest. He screamed and she heard the air seep from his lungs. She scrambled to her feet and hobbled up the hill praying for deliverance.

“Are you certain ’twas a call for help?”

“Aye, Tam, it were a woman’s cry all right and it came from the direction of the loch. Kiernan’s already dispatched a few of the men.”

“A woman, you say?”

Tam turned to Onora. “Who would venture down to the loch this late?”

He followed Onora’s worried glance toward the stairs.

“What is it?”

She clutched Tam’s forearm. “I have not seen Elisande since our discussion in the solar. It is very unlike her not to take supper in the hall.”

Tam signaled a female servant. “Gerda, go above stairs and fetch your mistress.”

“Tam — ?”

“It will be fine, Onora, you’ll see she had a wee nap and didn’t hear the summons to sup.”

Gerda returned alone.

“Well?”

“Milady is nae in her chamber, and I questioned a couple of the women on my way down. One of the washerwomen was pegging out a line earlier in the day, and greeted milady.”

She stopped, casting a worried glance at Onora.

“Continue,” Tam commanded.

“The laundress said she headed in the direction of the loch.”

“Oh, dear God.” Onora’s knees buckled.

“Let’s not panic until we know more,” Tam cautioned. Once he settled Onora into a chair by the lit hearth, he hastened across the chamber and through a door where the garrison was quartered.

Onora watched him go, and then called for the messenger. A few moments later, a whip-thin man stood in front of her.

“Carry a message to your chieftain.”

• • •

Despite the blow to his chest, Addis caught up to her and grabbed her from behind. She whirled on him, clawed her nails down his face, gouging deep furrows into both cheeks. She fled toward the beach. Trapped and exhausted, she attempted a final call for help and with no other alternative, limped into the loch. Despite her fear, the cold water extinguished the fiery sensation in her ankle. She tried to tread water, like Aeden showed her, but the strong current dragged her weightless body into deeper waters. Bone numbing fatigue set in and she started to go under.

• • •

Aeden heard the words, yet they barely registered. Not much had since the confrontation with Addis. The outcome hadn’t disturbed him — to the contrary — he anticipated and planned for such a scene, that is, until, he accused Elisande of witchery. The slander had infuriated him into losing control, and he never lost control. Though the incident infuriated him, it wasn’t the reason for his distracted air. The unwanted revelation took getting used to, but once he faced the truth of it, he could finally admit how much he missed Elisande. His prickly, fanciful, sharp-tongued wife had carved her indelible mark on his soul and he never spotted it coming.

From the first moment of their meeting, she blindsided him with her courageous spirit, daring, and feminine ways. Hell, he even found her peculiar rituals and ridiculous notions about Christianity endearing and if that wasn’t a sign, then he didn’t know his own mind. Still, one item nagged at him since she uttered those three illusive words. Had she truly confessed her love for him, or, did she speak from a dream state? He had no idea the effect her words would have on him until they tripped from her lips. Now, he needed to know if she truly meant them, and that’s when he decided to leave the talks. When the council disassembled for the evening, he made his excuses to Bran and ordered his men to ride ahead.