Page 35 of Sighs of the Highland Wind
“I will survive,” she assured him flatly. “I did before, and I will do so again.”
Maxwell had no answer to that. He sighed, a little disappointed by her reply. Then, into the silence, came a growl of annoyance from Kenna. A flood of guilt washed over her as she remembered his food.
“Damn!” she said angrily. “Maxwell, I am so sorry! I rushed back here in such a hurry after that idiot scared me so much that I left your food in the kitchen! Wait here a moment, and I will fetch it.”
Maxwell suddenly felt something in his belly that was not hunger but a dreadful premonition of danger.
“Kenna, I will survive ’til morning. Please don’t worry,” he begged.
“Why?” Kenna asked in disbelief. “Maxwell, you are starving. I will not let you suffer a moment longer.”
Then she left, grabbed a candle from the table, and locked the door behind her.
16
Despite having dismissed Maxwell’s fears about Roy, Kenna was more than a little scared as she crept along the passageway and down the servants’ stairs to the kitchen. The stairway was almost completely dark, and the only light was her feeble candle, which had only half an inch of wax left on it. She proceeded very slowly, watching every footstep as she descended and listening warily for any unexpected sound. At last, she reached the kitchen and breathed a great sigh of relief. There was no sign of Roy so far, but Kenna did not want to wait around to meet him.
She hastily grabbed the food and wine she had put aside earlier, glad that no one had taken it, and turned to go back to her chamber. Then she froze.
A man was standing in front of her, staring at her intently. Kenna was reminded of the ugly man in her nightmare at once, but this man was not quite so repulsive, although he scared her just as much. Presently, he moved further into the light, and she recognized him at once.
It was Douglas McDonald.
“Ah,” he said with a kind of dark glee. “I wanted to see if I could find the maid I saw looking out of the window, and lo and behold, here you are. You really are a delicious little thing, you know. Just the kind of lady I would like to warm my bed tonight, so I am inviting you to come with me.”
He held out his hand and smiled at Kenna in a lascivious way.
She shuddered with revulsion. Even though they were yards apart, she could smell the whiskey on his breath, and it made her want to be sick. She was terrified, having heard about Lachlan’s death. This man looked as though he was equally, if not drunker, than his brother had been. Indeed, he could hardly stand up. She very much doubted if he could pick her up, but he was advancing on her, slowly but surely backing her into a corner of the kitchen.
Kenna looked down at his hand and shook her head, her eyes wide with fear.
“Thank you, but I am very tired,” she replied politely. “I must go to sleep.”
The young man’s gaze dropped to the food she was carrying.
“Really?” he asked, nodding at it. “Are you planning on having a late supper, then?” He stood back and folded his arms, then glared at her. “That is some of my best wine. A whole half bottle to yourself? All that food? Perhaps you have a guest in your bedroom already that you are not telling me about. Hmmm?”
He raised his eyebrows in a question, then, to Kenna’s relief, he laughed.
“I am a little hungry,” Kenna admitted. “The wine was left over from dinner, and I thought no one wanted it, but I will leave it behind if you wish.”
He shook his head. “No, bring it with you. We can drink it while we get to know one another. I love wine, whatever kind it is, and I love women. When I think of wine and women together, I am in heaven.”
“Thank you, sir, but I cannot come with you,” Kenna replied firmly, even though her heart was thumping wildly with terror. If this lout wanted her body, he was going to have to fight her for it, for she would not surrender it to him willingly.
Douglas raised his eyebrows. “Do you have better things to do? Another lover, perhaps?”
Kenna shook her head. “No. I merely want to sleep, sir,” she replied. “I am very tired. Will you let me pass, please?”
“No,” came the simple reply. “I will not.” He stood stock-still and stared at her with a penetrating, challenging glare. “You may as well make up your mind that you are coming with me, and you will be warming my bed tonight whether you like it or not.”
He reached out to take Kenna’s arm, but she jerked it away, dropping the tray of food as she did so. There was an almighty crash as pieces of glass, clay, and metal smashed or bounced on the floor, and morsels of food splattered them both. Kenna had somehow managed to keep hold of the wine bottle, and now she waved it around like a club, threatening him with it as he came nearer.
“Stay away from me!” she cried, her voice shaking with terror. “Leave me alone!”
“Or you will do what?” Douglas laughed. “Will you hit me over the head with that bottle of wine? Because you will have to catch me first!”
He moved closer, and Kenna squealed as he swiped the bottle of wine out of her hand, leaving her defenseless. She looked around for a weapon, but the kitchen had been cleaned and tidied hours before, and she could see nothing.
