Page 24 of Bride of the Mad Laird
“I have learned that the gallowglasses are near. Even as we speak, me men are in the village seeking out the truth of the matter. The gallowglasses must reveal what and who they seek. And if it is ye they wish tae imprison, then I want tae ken why.”
Her face paled and she shivered, pulling her cloak close around her as if she’d felt a sudden chill.
“What daes the Laird Alexander MacDougall want wi’ ye, Lyra?”
She gasped, her eyes widened and her fingers clutched at the fine gold cross she wore at her neck on a delicate gold chain.
“Why d’ye ask me such a thing?”
“I ask because I’ve learned the gallowglasses pursuing ye are in MacDougall’s pay.”
She moaned, closing her eyes, her teeth clenching her lower lip. She inhaled deeply before looking up again and speaking. Her green eyes shone bright with unshed tears.
“He was me faither’s enemy and was responsible fer his murder.” She stated this in a matter-of-fact tone as if to hide the pain that was certain to be there. “When I was little more than a bairn I was sent tae the Priory, in secret, tae keep me safe when me faither suspected our clan would be attacked by MacDougall.”
“And what is it he wants wi’ ye that he’s gone tae such trouble and expense tae hunt fer ye? Ye’ve nae told me yer full name Lady Lyra. Now it is time.”
She turned an anguished face to him, her fingers still holding the little gold cross. “I am of the MacInnes clan, Laird Tòrr, and I dinnae ken what it is he wishes wi’ me. I only ken his hatred fer me clan.”
Aware of the MacInnes lands to the east, Tòrr nodded. Mayhap there was more behind MacDougall’s hunt for Lyra than he’d thought.
He could see this turn of the conversation was painful for her, yet for all their sakes he needed to understand what was behind MacDougall’s determination to capture her. How far would that determination take him? Would he risk a war with the MacKinnons if she was kept safe within Dùn Ara?
“Think hard. When ye were at the Priory, what did ye understand? Did ye ken the reason why ye were secreted there?
She thought of this for a few moments, chewing on her lower lip.
Despite the seriousness of the moment, his lusty thoughts insisted on focusing on those white teeth and her plump lips. Feeling a twitch in his groin he silently admonished himself for his thinking. Yet, the thought of kissing those plush red lips was more than tempting. He gave his head a shake. Now was not the time.
He pulled himself into line as she spoke.
“I didnae question me presence at the Priory. As I grew older, I learned from Maither Una that I could be used in a deadly game played between clans, and it would be tae MacDougall’s advantage if he should take me. Such a notion was hateful tae me, yet I fully understood that if I were tae be captured I could be used as leverage over me faither and the clan.”
She pshawed, placing her hand on his arm. “I’m nae some mindless pawn in some men’s game of chess.”
“But when ye learned of yer faither’s death, what then?”
“Once me faither was nay more, and MacDougall had exacted his revenge, I didnae understand why I was tae remain at the Priory. Yet I felt safe there and the world outside made me afeared.”
“And now?”
“After so many years, MacDougall found me secret place. Ye saw what happened when his men stormed the Priory.” Her eyes misted at the memory. “Yet, since I came tae Dùn Ara, I have felt protected and safe.” She looked up at him with those piercing emerald eyes. “Am I wrong tae trust?”
Shaking his head, Tòrr tried to reassure her. “Nay, ye’re nae wrong, lass. I swear I will protect ye tae the best of me ability.” His heart stuttered as he spoke the words.He was true, but he was not at all certain that the Council of his elders and other clan leaders would be prepared to support him. Not if it meant going to war with the Laird Alexander.
Somehow he would have to convince them that protecting Lyra was in the best interests of the MacKinnons.
She was gazing forlornly somewhere into the distance, her eyes fixed on the horizon. His heart went out to her. She was like a beautiful, caged bird who had glimpsed the open door of her cage but was unable to fly away.
“Come Lyra. Let us make our way tae the solar. I am in need of refreshments and I daresay Claray will have some dainties tae tempt us wi’.
They headed back inside the keep and made their way to the solar, but not before Lyra hesitated, seeming reluctant to tear her gaze away from the distant vista of sea and sky.
Once they arrived at the solar, Tòrr stoked the fire and placed another log on the embers. Lyra sat in one of the expansive padded oak chairs, leaning back on the richly embroidered cushions. Soon the fire was blazing and the autumn chill in the air was replaced by cozy warmth.
He rang the bell for the kitchen and it was Claray who appeared moments later rather than one of the scullery maids. She carried a tray loaded with sweetmeats, candied walnuts, raspberries and honey-almond cakes.
Tòrr grinned. “Ye’ve read me mind, Claray.”
