Page 11 of Kilted Abduction
“Thank ye. I appreciate that.”
Rubbing his neck as if making sure it hadn’t been cut, the stable hand led her horse away, grumbling under his breath the whole time. Frowning after him, Ciara pulled her cloak about her tighter and pulled the hood up. Knowing her father and Fairfax would be looking for her, she didn’t want to run the risk of anybody recognizing her.
She turned and left the stables and stepped into the mass of humanity outside. All around her, the air reverberated with the sound of laughter, music, and cheering. Despite the heavy burden she carried, the festive atmosphere all around her seeped into Ciara and brought a small smile to her face. She pulled her hood lower and walked through the crowd, searching the faces of the people she passed, half-afraid somebody would recognize her. She had no idea what the person sent to drag her back to her father’s keep would look like. Thankfully, nobody seemed to be paying her any attention.
The smell of a hundred different foods cooking saturated the air, making Ciara’s stomach rumble. She hadn’t had a thing to eat since an unsatisfying meal of berries, crusty bread, and cheese when she’d stopped for a rest the night before. What shewouldn’t give for a soft bed and warm bath. She passed by a table that was selling a bowl of roasted meet, vegetables, and bread that set her mouth watering. Ciara’s stomach rumbled so loud, she was sure everybody could hear it over the cacophony of voices all around her. She stopped at the table fingering her purse beneath her cloak and eyeballed the sizzling meat.
“Hot bowl of meats and veggies, love? Ye look half-starved,” the woman behind the table asked as she offered Ciara a smile. “Goin’ tae be two coppers.”
With so few coins in her purse, Ciara thought she should hold out. She thought she should probably forage for something to eat instead of spending money on it. But it smelled so good, and she was so hungry…
“Aye. Please,” Ciara said.
She fished a pair of coins out of her purse, leaving precious few inside, then handed them over to the woman who gave Ciara a bowl heaped with meat and veggies in a tantalizing brown sauce.
“Thank ye,” Ciara said as she accepted a larger than normal chunk of still-warm bread.
The older woman gave Ciara a wink. “Ye’re welcome. Now, go get some food in ye.”
Ciara smiled and walked away, finding a spot on the grass beneath a tree off to the side of the grounds. She sat down thenenthusiastically tucked into her meal, abandoning all pretense of proper manners as she ate and groaned with pleasure. It was quite possibly the best thing she’d ever eaten. But then perhaps because she was so hungry, it simply seemed that way. Either way though, Ciara didn’t care. All that mattered was that she was getting something warm and filling in her belly.
As Ciara ate, she thought about what she was doing there. In her flight from her father’s keep, she hadn’t actually formulated anything resembling a plan. She knew she needed allies. She needed somebody to help her protect her lands and her clan from the reach of Lord Fairfax. And also, to help keep her out of his reach. The mere thought of marrying that cold, cruel man sent a cold chill sweeping through her. It was a fate Ciara didn’t want to contemplate. Which was why she had to succeed in her endeavor. She had to find an ally among the clans represented here at the games.
But what did she know about diplomacy? Her father had never allowed her to watch as he conducted negotiations, had never prepared her to rule in any way. He had long lamented the lack of any male heirs and made it more than clear he viewed her as nothing more than a chip he could play to secure his own power. By marrying her to Fairfax, her father would have the backing of a powerful and wealthy ally. He would have somebody who would be able to quell any uprising. Not to mention somebody who was paying him a fortune for her hand in marriage and through Ciara, a claim to the ancestral lands of her clan.
The thought of her home and her clan’s lands in the hands of an English lord turned her stomach. That her father would willingly auction her off as well as turn over her home and clan’slands to the English simply to stay in power until he died, was infuriating. She thought he belonged in the dark cells below the keep for that sort of treason. He deserved no mercy for his treatment of her and his betrayal of the clan. It was a terrible thought to have about her own flesh and blood, she knew. But Robert MacDougal had stopped being her father a long time ago.
Movement in her peripheral vision sent a bolt of adrenaline shooting through her. Ciara reached for her dagger as she turned and felt an immediate wave of relief when she saw a little girl standing there staring at her. The girl was dirty, her clothing threadbare and ragged. And as Ciara studied her, she realized the girl wasn’t looking at her, but at the bowl in her hands. A small frown touched Ciara’s lips, and she felt a pang of guilt twist her belly when she saw what little she’d left.
“Are ye hungry, lass?”
The girl’s blue eyes widened and were filled with sadness. She had a pale complexion and was gaunt, her tattered rags hanging off a frame seemingly too small for a girl who looked to have lived eleven or twelve summers.
“What is yer name?” Ciara asked gently.
“Isobel,” she said.
“That’s a beautiful name, Isobel,” Ciara replied. “Are ye hungry?”
The girl’s icy blue eyes returned to Ciara’s bowl as she nodded. She could practically smell the hunger and malnutrition coming off the girl and felt pain ripple through her heart. No child should ever go hungry. It was a belief she had always been passionate about, much to the consternation of Laird Robert. He had always tried to keep her from feeding and caring for the children in their lands. But he was always so concerned about looking bad to the clan that he never chastised her about it in public. He would rail against it in private, but Ciara let him rage and would go out the next day and give out twice as much food.
Ciara looked into her bowl, frowning at the scraps of meat and vegetables, as well as the crusty heel of her bread. It wasn’t much at all, but she handed the bowl to the girl nonetheless. Isobel grabbed it quickly and used the scrap of bread to sop up what was left in the bowl, greedily stuffing it into her mouth, seeming to be savoring every morsel like it was a fine meal. It didn’t take her long to finish and she set the bowl down and turned grateful eyes to Ciara.
“Thank ye,” Isobel said.
“Of course,” she replied. “I’m sorry it wasnae much.”
The girl shrugged her thin shoulders. “’Tis more than I’ve had the last couple of days. Are ye nae here just tae enjoy the games?”
“Nae. I’m nae here fer the games.”
“Then what are ye here fer?”
Ciara offered the girl a smile.
“Well, right now, I need tae figure out how tae make some coin,” Ciara said. “I need a bath and a bed for the night.”
Isobel touched Ciara’s bow gently. “Can ye shoot?”
