My Lady Captor. Hannah HowellЧитать онлайн книгу.
in surprise when Neil suddenly swung a tight fist at him, the blow quickly halted by Robert who grabbed the woman by the wrist. “I see her temperament matches her hair,” he murmured as, after a brief staring match between Robert and Neil, she yanked back her hand.
“Mayhap we just havenae learned to accept insults as graciously as ye, sir,” Sorcha drawled, pleased to see a hint of color tint his high-boned cheeks. “While my father was still a beardless youth, the true cost of this keep became painfully clear. We had bled Dunweare of its manhood.”
“Here, lass, I dinnae think ye ought to tell the mon such things,” Neil said.
“He and his cousin will be here for a while, Aunt. They would have to be blinded to stop them from seeing the truth for themselves. And, I believe Sir Ruari is warrior enough to have already seen that Dunweare could be successfully protected by a handful of suckling bairns.”
“Aye, I saw that clear enough,” agreed Ruari, his reluctance to admit it evident in his deep voice. “Aye, and so too have I seen the lack of men-at-arms. I had thought the men had gone to battle, then recalled that Dougal came alone.”
“Dougal kenned that no mon would go with him nor allow him to go if he revealed his plans.” Sorcha moved to collect a blanket from an ornate wooden chest beneath a narrow window slot. “We depend upon Dougal to replenish the male half of Dunweare, sir, to replace the blood our forefathers so carelessly spilled onto the dirt of so many battlefields.” With Neil’s help, Sorcha spread the blanket over Ruari. “Ye will be held for ransom, sir, for we have no other choice. For nigh on fifty years our wee clan hasnae played the ransom game, a game most all others consider a fair one, even an honorable one.”
“But ye will play it now.”
“Aye, Sir Ruari, we will and dinnae think that because our army consists of the old, the verra young, the crippled, and women that we will play it poorly.” As she spoke she tucked the blanket up over his chest and leaned closer to him. “Ye will be treated weel, kindly, and with the respect that is your right, but dinnae mistake any of that as weakness. If ye try to escape, we will stop you. If ye somehow manage to slip beyond our walls, we will hunt ye down. Ye are our captive, sir, and though ye may scorn your captors, dinnae let that arrogance prompt ye to act foolishly. I promise ye, we will make ye regret it.”
Sorcha suddenly realized that she was staring at his mouth. It was a fine mouth, just full enough to be interesting. That mouth tempted her, drawing her closer, and that startled her. She quickly turned her gaze up to meet Ruari’s more directly. There was a look of growing curiosity in his rich green eyes that warned her that her distraction had not gone completely unnoticed. Sorcha swiftly straightened up.
“I pray I have made myself understood,” she said, inwardly thanking God for the steadiness of her voice.
“Aye, completely,” Ruari replied.
“Good, then if my aunt doesnae object, I shall leave you in her care for now.”
“Ye go, lass,” Neil said. “I will see to the lad’s care. Ye go and have a wee talk with Robert. He has a few things he has been wanting to tell you.”
“About Euphemia.”
“Aye, wee Effie. I fear we have a few troubling months ahead of us.”
Although dreading all she was about to hear, Sorcha nodded and left with Robert. She felt a pinch of reluctance over leaving Ruari. He had been in her sole care for almost three days, but she knew that was not the source of her hesitation. Despite his anger, she had enjoyed being near him. It would be the first time since she had found him that she would be away from his side. The extent of the unease that caused her was a real concern. It was obviously not enough to remind herself that there was no hope of a steadfast attachment between herself and Ruari. She decided she needed to put some distance between herself and Sir Ruari Kerr, to dim her fascination with the man by concentrating on the troubles at Dunweare.
“Now ye may speak more freely about Effie,” Sorcha told Robert as they walked down to the great hall.
“The trouble began but hours after ye and Margaret went chasing after Dougal.”
“There was no hint of its onslaught?”
“Nay. ’Tis why I feel we are going to suffer a long, unsettling time. The spirits just descended. Aye, with a cursed vengeance. Everyone kenned that Effie was coming of age and expected the trouble to begin, but even those of us who have been through this time and time again, found the first onslaught so strong as to cause us some qualms.”
“Do ye think someone could actually be hurt this time?”
“I will admit I am a bit afeared of that, yet there must have been some bad times before, and I have ne’er heard it told that any harm came of it.”
“True. How is Effie reacting to all of this?”
“She refuses to believe ’tis happening because she is to be a woman soon.”
“Weel, I didnae want to believe it either when it happened to me. ’Tis a frightful thing to leave one’s childhood behind, but when ye must face that change with mischievous spirits hurling things about and being a terrible nuisance, ’tis a sore trial indeed. And there are Effie’s fancies to consider. The child seems truly convinced that she is a changeling, a bairn left behind by the fairy folk. She probably thinks fairies dinnae suffer the afflictions of mortal women.”
Sorcha silently began to consider all she could say to Euphemia in an attempt to make the girl accept her coming of age with calm resignation. Calm was the best. It was the one truth her family had uncovered about the curse that haunted them. The calmer the girl, the less violent the activity of the spirits. The noises were muted, fewer objects were thrown about or stolen and hidden away, and all the other nuisances grew easier to bear. There was an herbal drink her grandmother had brewed that would keep the girl calm, even sweetly blissful, for hours at a time, but Sorcha did not like the idea of using it.
Robert pushed open the heavy door to the great hall, and Sorcha stepped inside. She came to a halt so abruptly, Robert walked into her. Sorcha ignored his soft curse in favor of uttering a few of her own. The great hall was a mess. Two nervous women were picking up scattered candelabras, plates, and tankards and righting the tipped-over benches. It looked as if a wild revel had just ended, but Sorcha knew that was not the cause of the disarray. Even as she stepped into the room, a large shield hanging over the huge stone fireplace crashed to the floor. The two maids screeched, took a few deep breaths, and continued to pick up. Robert sidled around her and walked over to the shield. Sorcha followed, pulling a high stool over so that he could put the shield back.
“’Tis bad,” she murmured, holding the tall, three-legged stool steady as he climbed on it.
“’Tis also far too constant, too unrelenting, for my peace of mind. The spirits are mightily stirred up this time.”
“Mayhap Euphemia’s change from child to woman will be a swift one.” Sorcha grimaced when Robert gave her a telling glance as he jumped off the stool. “One can always hope.”
“Hope all ye like, lass, but as ye do so, plan what we must do to ease this turmoil. Mayhap ye can speak to your own spirits. One of them may ken how to stop this.”
“They dinnae seem to. I have asked them before. In truth, my ghosties dinnae seem to ken much at all. And I would prefer that they stay away for a wee while. I may be able to explain away things hurling themselves about or noises in the night, but I doubt I can explain a ghost or, since Ruari willnae be able to see my spirit, my talking to someone who isnae there.”
“Ah, I hadnae thought of that.”
“All the whispered tales and fears that forced our clan to move to this desolate place have faded. If Sir Ruari and his cousin become aware of our secrets, those dark stories could begin again. We have no other place to run, Robert.”
“So what can we do?”
“Pray that Sir Ruari leaves here thinking no more than