Page 20 of Bride of the Mad Laird
He waited in his study, his thoughts swirling as he poured two more drams of whisky for himself and Edmund.
A short while later, Edmund entered the study and joined him.
They both raised their glasses and seated themselves in Tòrr’s leather chairs before the fire. “Slàinte math.”
Tòrr heaved a sigh. “I had hoped that once we were safely at the castle there would be time fer the Lady Lyra tae recover after her ordeal. And then, in an orderly fashion we could assist her tae travel wherever she needed to go.”
Impatient with himself, he clicked his tongue. “I had foolishly paid little heed tae the gallowglasses. Assuming that once they realized we’d escaped, they would put their tails between their legs and go after some other poor fool.”
Edmund nodded. “I held the same idea. Once I’d outrun them, I gave them little further thought.”
Tòrr twisted the stem of his goblet in his hand, needing to get to the bottom of this urgent matter. “What we learn now is that they are here. How they found us is of nae consequence. What matters is the risk that we now face. First, it is clear that they are relentless in their quest to take the lass. Why MacDougall has employed them tae dae so we have yet to learn.”
“So, should we send word tae our allies, the MacLeods on the Isle of Skye and the MacNeils of Barra, informing them of this situation?”
“Aye. After we’ve discussed this, I shall this night write to both, requesting their support if it should be needed.”
Edmund sipped his whisky and pondered this. “I agree. ‘Tis better tae prepare them so that they standby, in case…” he gave a resigned shrug, “MacDougall’s men decide tae attack.”
“This brings me tae the next point.” Tòrr layered another log on the fire and stoked it with the iron poker by the fireplace. “Depending on what yer men can discover from the gallowglasses, we must arrive at a decision about whether it is safe fer Lyra tae remain here.”
Edmund gave a reluctant nod. “And whether it is safe fer us tae keep her here and risk MacDougall’s wrath.”
“I dinnae wish tae hand her to MacDougall. Nay matter what his reason may be, I’d ne’er countenance handing a convent-bred lass tae that brute. Ye ken his reputation.”
“I’ve heard terrible rumors.”
“Aye, and they are tae believed. Nae only daes he force a lass inte his bed, but he’s unsparing with his fists.” Tòrr folded his arms. His heart stuttered painfully at the thought of Lyra in MacDougall’s clutches. “On one occasion, or so I heard, he took tae a lass wi’ a whip after he’d forced her intae his bed and had his way wi’ her. He beat her, so that her flesh was torn and bleeding. It was nigh on a miracle that the healer was able tae save her.”
Edmund snorted. “And they callyethe Mad Laird. That title should be awarded tae MacDougall.Heis truly a mad man fer all his fancy English manners and his fine clothes.”
“This is why I am so concerned fer the lass. I’m afeared that if it comes tae it, the Council might insist I hand her over tae MacDougall tae prevent clan warfare. Even if we turned tae our allies, the MacLeods and the MacNeils, it would take days fer them tae arrive at Dùn Ara. A swift attack by MacDougall could well see us overrun.”
“Then, wi’ yer permission, I’ll ready me men and bring in our recruits from across the clan lands. There are many lads who will serve us well if there’s a call tae arms.”
Tòrr nodded and got to his feet. The prospect of war with the MacDougalls was something he’d contemplated for some time.
“Ever since me faither’s death and me ascent tae the lairdship, the relationship with Alexander MacDougal has grown cold. Nay doubt he is well aware of the new allegiances existing between his two clan enemies and the MacKinnons of Mull.”
“Of course.” Edmund shrugged. “His damned spies are all over both the Isle of Skye and Mull.”
“Because of this, it’s likely he will nae be inclined tae negotiate, but tae attack if we afford him an opportunity.”
“I can only agree.
“Tomorrow I will speak wi’ the Lady Lyra and explain what I’ve learned. She must reveal tae me her true identity and help me understand why it is that MacDougall is so unyielding in his pursuit of her.”
Edmund also stood, but made no move to leave the study. “What of ye?”
Tòrr tilted his head, granting him a quizzical look, his brows drawn in a frown. “I dinnae ken what it is ye’re asking.”
“I’m asking how ye feel about the lass? I observed ye this night. Yer eyes never left her while she was with us. Ye fussed over her at the table as if she was some precious object that might break if the wind blew too hard.”
Tòrr pshawed loudly. “Whatever are ye talking of, lad?”
“I’ve nae seen that look in yer eyes before, even when there was a fair lass who was giving ye the eye and all but begging ye tae take her tae yer bed.”
“Ye’re wrong.” Tòrr gave his head a vigorous shake. “Lyra is nay more than a nuisance. A bothersome wee lass who was foisted upon us by pure chance. I’ve offered her aid because there seemed tae be nae other choice. If we’d nae interfered, she’d have been taken by the gallowglasses, tae be killed or worse. Or, as we now learn, given over tae MacDougall.”
