Love Letters from Largs: Brodie and Celestina (Highlander Clan Grant Series Book 3) (11 page)

Chapter Eleven

The Twist

Celestina did as she was told. After she removed her gown, she pulled the bed covers up to her neck. And she waited. Again.

Ivarsson
strolled over to the bed. He licked his lips slowly as he sauntered toward her. “I have waited a long time to see your beauty. Did you know your reputation? I had heard of your beauty in Glasgow, but I didn’t quite believe the rumors. You surprised even me.” His hand reached for the cover and yanked it from her grip. His gaze trailed lazily from her breasts down to her toes. “My, but you are a beautiful one, aren’t you? Why, I can hardly believe you are mine to do with as I please.” His crooked smile forced her racing heart to go even faster.

Sitting on the bed beside her, he
reached up and pulled her hands, which she had been using to cover herself, away from her chest. Why did he make her feel dirty and unclean? His gaze dropped to her breasts, and she was filled with the wild desire to run away, as far away as possible. Her nudity with Brodie had been beautiful, but this? This felt wrong, tainted. With one look, this man had shredded her dignity to tatters.

He reached out to fondle her nipple
, and she flinched when he brushed the back of his hand against the tender tip.

Nothing could have prepared her for what he did next.

He took her nipple and twisted it so hard her entire body lurched in pain. He twisted and held fast. “You thought I was foolish enough not to notice your maidenhead was gone? I am not a fool.” He wrenched her nipple again, and her back bucked off the bed in response to the torture he continued to inflict. His voice didn’t even rise as he uttered the words, which somehow made his abuse more frightening, not less. “Who? Who was it?”

Her father had schooled her well in pain. She could handle most anything, but this? This was
so much more horrific than anything her father had ever done to her. Still, she could not respond.

“I repeat. Who was it? Who dared to take what was mine?”

Celestina shook her head. She would never give up Brodie’s name. If she did, Ivarsson might have Brodie killed for taking her virginity. Never. He would never break her.

“Do you know how much I paid for you? Your father was broke. I paid him a vault full of gold for the rights to your virginity and you just gave it away to some Scottish savage. Didn’t you?” He switched nipples and went at her again
, a smile of knowledge growing on his face. “That’s who it was, wasn’t it? You gave it to the Grant warrior. It was
mine
. I wanted to make you bleed and you denied me.”

She
groaned in pain and clenched her teeth, fighting to bear his torture without making a sound, but she finally broke with a scream. With that, he shoved her away from him, as if bored by her pain.

“No need. You don’t hav
e to answer. I know who it was.” He stood and strode to the door. “Get dressed. We are leaving. You will not embarrass me again. Gather your things because we have a bit of journey ahead of us. I will lock you in a tower until you bleed just to be sure that I don’t have to bear the sight of another man’s child. If you do, the babe will be killed. You will not embarrass me by bearing a child that does not resemble me.”

Celestina stared at
Ivarsson’s fury. Her breathing was only starting to return to normal after the horrendous pain he had caused. She rested on her elbows and stared at him.

He cast one final
scathing glance at her before leaving. “You will be mine for the rest of your pitiful life. I can wait a mere month. Until then, I hope you enjoy your prison.”

The door slammed and she fell back onto the bed.

Where was he taking her? How would Brodie ever find her?

***

Celestina stood in the center of the cold, barren room, staring at the peak and the support beams on the inside of the tower roof that would be part of her confinement. This is what she would wake up to every day. Another virtual prison surrounded her, threatened to overwhelm her, but she struggled for acceptance and for serenity, willing her trembling legs to calm. She closed her eyes to focus on visions of Brodie, of his smile, his laughter, and his pledge. She could do this.

It felt as though
Ivarsson’s words were still echoing off the stone walls. “You made your choice. This is where you will stay until you prove to me you are not carrying the Grant’s spawn. Perhaps then—,” he’d sauntered over to stroke her cheek, “—you will realize how nice your life could be if you learn to remain in my good graces, Lady Ivarsson.” There had been a smirk on his face as he tucked his hand back by his side. “Your father has said he trained you well. I have my doubts. But be assured of this—whatever it takes, I will break you, my dear.”

And with that, he’d
strolled back to the door, pausing before opening it. “You will be locked in here until you bleed. Your only contact will be with your maid when she brings you food and water.” After making a swift bow, he chuckled and said, “Sweet dreams, my pretty one.”

So, she had gone from one tower prison to another. Alone now, s
he sighed, relieved he had taken his leave. One foot stepped in front of the other as she made her way to the single bed pushed against one wall in the room. When she flounced down on the side of it, clouds of dust surrounded her face and she sneezed three times. The mattress, full of lumps, would be nothing compared to the soft feather bed she had slept on last night in the arms of her true husband.

Several
narrow slits in the stone wall offered the only light in the room. One lone candle sat on a small table not far from the hearth, and underfoot was a dark, threadbare rug. The trunk her father had sent sat under one slit. The chamber even held its own garderobe. How convenient that she would not have to step outside the door at all.

She moved over to
absorb the warmth from the hearth and rubbed her arms. The chill in the chamber seeped through her skin, forcing a shiver. Moving to her trunk, she opened the lid searching for a shawl or small blanket to warm her. After covering her shoulders with a thin coverlet, she shuffled back to the hearth and let out a small screech when a cobweb caught in her hair. Her eyes darted around the chamber until she noticed a small broom in the corner. She grabbed the handle and swung at the silky strands until the tears came.

Sobbing as she hadn’t done in years, she cried for her mother, for Brodie, and for the turn her life had take
n that morning after her wedding to Fredrik Ivarsson. How would Brodie ever find her here? She knew not where she was, but the trip had been long, and she had been alone in the cart. She sat in the one chair that was snugged up to the table and dropped her arms on the hard surface, propping her forehead on them and crying until she had no more tears.

When she was finally able to lift her head, she thought about all that had transpired. Things could be worse.
At least she did not have to share that man’s bed this eve. In an odd way, the doctor’s examination had turned out to be a blessing in that sense. She would not have to bear Fredrik’s slimy touch for at least a fortnight, and her husband had promised to retrieve her before then. She thought back to her last courses. Yes, she had been granted a wonderful reprieve.

But the thought of what he’d threatened to do if she quickened with
Brodie’s seed made her shudder. She would simply have to trust in her true husband. He would find her in time to prevent such an outcome.

He had to or she would surely go mad.

***

Several days later,
Brodie stood in the castle solar with his older brother, Robbie, and their two best warriors, Nicol and Tomas. With them was the exact same party Alex and Brodie had met with the previous week when they’d first been summoned to the castle to talk of war—the king, Walter Stewart, Boyd of Kilmarnock, and Mure of Rowallan.

King Alexander raised his voice as he spoke pointedly to Brodie. “I assure you, Grant, I do not know where
Ivarsson has taken his wife. They left on the afternoon of their marriage. What is the importance to you? Did I not advise you to forget her when you first mentioned Celestina’s name? She is his wife now, and he will do with her as he wishes.”

“
Your Grace, with all due respect, does that include beating her? He is notorious for being a cruel man. She came from a brutal life and you sent her to another. How will you ever know whether he is treating her well if she is no’ in Ayrshire?”

The king’s piercing gaze caught hi
s. “You are fortunate Scotland is soon to be at war and I am in need of strong leaders and protection. Otherwise, I would not forgive your insolence. Do not ever question my decisions again. She is in North Ayrshire somewhere, but where is of no import. The lass is not for you. There are far more serious events transpiring here, and you should be attending to your job—the protection of my castle.”

Brodie had noticed when he entered the palace that the number of royal guards had increased. Walking in town had even seemed edgy. People scurried
about, and many were purchasing large supplies of food stores. Darting eyes had told him much about the anxiety of the inhabitants of Ayrshire.

“Where is King Ha
akon? Have you received any messages?” Robbie asked.

“Aye.
His fleet is more powerful than we first thought. Haakon reportedly has well over one hundred galleys and over ten thousand men. We cannot hope to combat that. He stopped in Orkney to celebrate the St. Olaf’s Festival, but my sources tell me he has already left Orkney and is headed for the Isles to recruit reinforcements. Word has it Magnus will support King Haakon. I have never been so sorry to be right. Haakon’s intention is to undermine my leadership ability through a series of planned attacks.”

Boyd of Kilmarnock spoke
up. “How many warriors have you brought, Grant?”

“We have nigh three hundred
,” Robbie said. “Alex is readying more as we speak.”

“When will he send
them?” Mure of Rowallan asked. “Of course, he will have to leave some to protect his wife and keep, but we need all the men we can get.” He stood and paced the long room. It was often used for military discussions, and the rushes on the floor were well trodden.

“Aye,
” the king said, “send a messenger to The Grant advising him of the numbers of Haakon’s army. We still do not know where he plans to start his attacks, other than that he will likely stop for supplies at the Outer Hebrides, probably Lewis.”

“How many
men do you have now?” Brodie forced himself to consider the possibility of war. Mayhap Alex was correct. War would throw chaos throughout the Western Isles and the Scottish villages. Though the last thing he wanted was for his country to face so much upheaval, perhaps the war would disrupt life enough for him to kidnap Celestina and send her to the Highlands with few repercussions. Alas, it would also ensure he was kept busy in his post as one of the sergeants of Ayrshire.

Brodie missed Celestina
so much, it pained him. How could he have become so attached to the lass in such a short time? He had planned to watch the wedding from afar and spirit her away two nights later. But when the king had ordered them back to Dulnain Valley to retrieve the warriors they had promised him, he’d realized his plans would have to wait. Plus, he would never have been able to watch their ceremony without intervening. It would have slayed him to watch Ivarsson lay a hand on his wife.

He prayed his
lass would stay strong until he managed to uncover her location.

“Presently, our numbers total only two hundred, but with
the warriors you have brought, we are over five hundred strong, which makes me feel a bit better about protecting what is ours.” The king stood and started to pace. Mure promptly moved out of the way.

Walter Stewart
stepped forward. “Brodie, we have hired ten more sergeants to protect the castle. We want you to lead that group, but we also plan to put you out in the village to keep abreast of all that goes on there. Spy if you must, and use every tool at your disposal. We believe there could be many traitors out there.”

The king added,
“Robbie can manage the warriors. If you need to travel to seek out the information you need, we will send you wherever you wish to go. Do what you must to protect the royal castle. Whatever you need, to root out the traitors, we will provide to you.”

Brodie couldn’t be happier. Th
e arrangement would perfectly suit his needs. He would find the traitors, but more importantly, he would find his wife.

He couldn’t bear to be away from her much longer.

Chapter Twelve

Lucky Loki

Brodie and Nicol stood in the middle of town, Nicol paying close attention to their surroundings while his friend picked up every twig and stick in the area to shred and toss at will.

“I swear if you do no’ stop your pacing, everyone will know your intent,” Nicol smiled.

Brodie stopped
for long enough to glare at his friend. “I swear if you do no’ wipe that incessant grin off your face, I’ll do it for you.”

“What do you want to do next?
Ivarsson is a rich man, and ‘tis said he has several homes. No one knows where he took her.” Nicol stared up and down the road, as if willing the passersby to give them information.

“Somebody has to know something,” Brodie barked. “I can no’ believe the most beautiful lass in
all of Ayrshire was moved out of the village without anyone noticing.” He reached for more sticks to tear apart, but found none. Circling a copse of trees for more, he ran right into a young lad who had been standing sentinel just around the corner.

“Lad, watch where you are about. You can no’ just walk into people,” Brodie roared as he
helped the boy up and set him aside.

“I dinna run into you, m
aster. You ran into me.”

The lad’s cheekiness put a smile on his face. He had to be between six and eight summers, yet he stood there as if he owned ha
lf the land. He glared at Brodie with his hands on his hips in a challenge.

Brodie wrapped his arm around
the boy’s waist and flipped him sideways, carrying him around the corner to Nicol. The lad’s arms and legs flailed like windmills until Brodie dropped him to the ground. “Look what I found hiding in the trees behind us, Nicol. An eavesdropper.”

“I wasnae spying.” The boy’s chin jutted up a few inches as he scuffled to his feet.

“Aye, you were, lad. I caught you.” Brodie tried to hide his grin, but
he couldn’t. Feisty boys always reminded him of his own boyhood.

The lad crossed his arms and scrunched his face as he stared at his captor.
“I was about to come out. I was just waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”
Brodie’s eyebrow arched in anticipation.

“Waiting for you to be ready to pay me
a big coin for my information. You have to wait till just the right time to get people to part with some gold, you see.”

Brodie glanced at Nicol to gauge his reaction to the young sprite.
His friend’s eyes sparkled with amusement.

“And what information do you
have worthy of a reward?” Brodie waited. This surely would prove to be entertaining. If the lad was as cheeky as he appeared, perhaps he could use him to help them find the traitors. A multitude of possibilities churned in his mind.

“I know about the angel.”

A fist hit Brodie square in the gut. The angel?
His
angel? He reached over and lifted the lad off the ground until his face sat a mere inch away from his.

“What angel?
Out with it, lad, if you value your tongue.”

Nicol grabbed his arm. “Easy, Grant. I am sure the lad will be agreeable. Set him down and let’s find out.”
He winked at Brodie. “And if he’s not, we can leave him up in that tree for awhile.”

Though he
set the squirming lad down between them, Brodie kept one hand on him. He couldn’t risk losing him if he chose to bolt. “What’s your name?”

The boy tugged at Brodie’s hand, but to no avail. “Leave me be and I’ll tell you.”

“I do no’ think so. You’ll tell me now,” Brodie bellowed.

“Och, let go! Train me to be a Grant warrior
like you and I’ll tell you everything I know.”

Squeezing
his arm a bit more, Brodie said, “Your name first, then we’ll negotiate.”

“Och, ease off! Loki, my name is Loki.”

Brodie relaxed his grip, but didn’t free him completely. He didn’t trust the wee ruffian one bit.

“All right, Loki,” he said. “
What angel? If ‘tis her we are looking for, I’ll consider training you.”

“The angel of Ayrshire.
Everyone knows her. She has the long golden hair. Her father kept her locked up in the tower home at the end of that road. We could see her in the tower every once in awhile. I used to watch her there. The sad angel.”

“And you know where she is
now?”

“
Certes, I know everythin’ in this town. I saw the mean bastard force her into a big cart, ‘twas the biggest I ever saw.”

“You have a raw mouth for a young lad. And
even if what you say is true, it still does no’ mean you know where the cart went.”

“Ha!
I noticed your moon face whenever she was around, so I decided to follow her.”

Nicol’s
abrupt bark of laughter caught Brodie off guard. His moon face? “Do no’ lie to me, lad. You followed her to steal from the man.”

“Och, that, too.”
His lips pursed. “But you are easy to read. You’ll follow her anywhere. If yer wondering how I did it, I climbed under the cart into the box and rode along. “Twas one of those fine carts, it was, with a separate compartment underneath. Aye, I do know where she is, but it’ll cost you, master warrior. I knew you’d be looking for her. You must promise to train me.”

Nicol’s hoot echoed in the trees. Th
is lad had bollocks the size of a bull’s; Brodie had to give him that. A wise one for his age. Perhaps he could indeed be of use to them.

“All right.
Where are your mother and father? I need to talk to them before I can make you a page to me.”

“I got none. I dinna need a mither
or a father.”

“Where are they, Loki
? Warriors do no’ lie.” Brodie gave him a little shake of encouragement.

“I am nae lying. Me mama died birthing me. I ne’er k
new me da.”

The lad quieted
and stared at the ground after this admission. Brodie heard a loud rumbling from his belly. “Where do you live?”

“
Over there,” his dirty finger pointed behind a nearby inn. “I have a wooden crate in the back to hide under in the rain. Suits me fine. I can take care of meself. But I want to be a Grant warrior, like I said. ‘Tis said they are the biggest and best warriors of all the Scots. I saw you come in the other day to the royal castle. And I saw the biggest laird in all the land—your laird, Alexander Grant. I want to be like you and The Grant. I promise to work hard.”

Brodie sighed. The lad lived on the
street and was starving. “Nicol, go get the lad a meat pie and bring it back.” He handed his friend a coin before returning his attention to the sprite. “Will you promise to stay put if I feed you? Here, I have an oatcake for you till Nicol returns with the pie.”

The
boy nodded emphatically. He could almost see the drool about to roll down Loki’s chin. He took him by the scruff of the neck and sat him down under a nearby oak tree. Hellfire, did the lad have to pull on his heartstrings so? And since when did he have any heartstrings? Heartstrings were only in lasses…or at least that’s what he’d thought before meeting Celestina.

Loki grabbed the oatcake, muttered his thanks and stuffed his face in a flash. Brodie thought of his two nephews, Alex’s lads. What if they had to go hungry?

Nicol returned with the meat pie and a sweet pastry. Brodie rolled his eyes at his friend. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one with the failing of heartstrings.

Once the lad was happily snacking on his bounty,
Brodie and Nicol sat in the grass next to him. “All right, lad. We’ll train you, but you have to tell us everything you know about the angel as soon as you finish the meat pie.” They waited patiently as the boy devoured his food, smacking his lips in satisfaction every once in awhile. He was about to eat the sweet roll when Brodie grabbed it.

“Och, no
’ yet. Information first. Where did the man take the angel?”

The lad stared at the pastry with a longing that forced Brodie to look away. “Hellfire
,” he mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

“He took her north. There’s an old keep
called Creggan Hall with a tower directly north of here. ‘Tis about a day’s travel on a horse near Largs. He locked her in the tower.”

“Locked her up
, why?”

Loki held his hand out for the
pastry. The lad had timing; he had to give him that. He handed the treat over.

The lad licked the icing off the top before he spoke.
“Aye, he locked her up, and he says he will no’ let her go until he knows she does no’ carry a babe.”

“How in
hell did you find that out?” Brodie glanced at Nicol. Could it be true? It made sense. The plan must have been planted in Ivarsson’s head by Father Padraig. He would sleep better at night if he didn’t have to think of his wife with that man’s hands all over her. Perfect. The more he thought about the arrangement, the more he liked it. She’d be safe for at least a fortnight, which would give him plenty of time to kidnap her.

“I knock
ed on the back door and the cook gave me scraps to eat. I heard the kitchen lasses gossiping about it.”

An idea popped into Brodie’s head. He grinned at Nicol before he spoke. “Aye, lad, here’s the plan. You have to prove to me you are a hard worker and smart, too. Can you find your way back to the
tower if Nicol brings you on his horse?”

“Aye.”

“Then here is your test. I have something you need to bring to the lass. Then you have to return with the proof that she received it.” He nodded as he talked, suddenly excited at this new prospect. “If you are successful, we will commence your training.”

“Aye, m
aster. I’ll do it.” Loki pointed to Nicol. “You heard him promise me.”

“Lad, I am a Grant. I do no’ go back on my word.
My name is Brodie, no’ master. And this is Nicol.”

“Aye,
Master Brodie, tell me what to do. And you have to feed me, too.” Loki grinned at him. “Do no’ worry…they dinna call me Lucky Loki for naught.”