Page 62 of Once Upon A Haunted Castle
Chapter One
Dunvegan Castle, Isle of Skye
In the Year of Our Lord 1500
“Father!” Isabel yelledonce more at the locked door. “I pray you let me out!” Frustrated, she screamed out even louder. “Father!”
Isabel MacLeod’s hands hurt from pounding on the thick wooden door. No matter how many times she had yelled or slammed against it, it did not give way. Nor would, she suspected, her father. Leaning against the door and catching her breath, Isabel knew how stubborn he could be when his temper was high.
And her declaration that she would not marry his choice in marriage had done exactly that. Not even her mother’s soothing voice and supplication had changed her sire’s mind on his decision—neither the one about whom he had chosen nor the one about her punishment for not obeying him.
Ranald MacLeod would never relent on this. She had insulted his honor before their clan. As she turned and slid down the surface of the door to sit on the floor, Isabel understood her mistake. Too late, it would seem, to do anything about it. Her throat and her palms throbbed as she considered her actions and her choices. Pushing the hair out of her face, Isabel glanced around the now empty chamber and realized she had little to choose.
Stripped of every comfort, her bedchamber was emptied on her father’s orders. Her clothing, trunks, jewelry and belongings were gone. Her bed was gone and two blankets lay thrown in the corner for her use. He had even ordered the shutters removed from the window so that the cold sea winds would have no barriers. The MacLeod wanted his daughter to suffer for her refusal to bow to his wishes. When a strong burst of wet wind filled the chamber, she climbed to her feet to rescue the blankets.
As she stood in the center of her room, Isabel did ken that being held prisoner in this place was her biggest obstacle. No one would help her while she was being punished by her father. She began pacing around the chamber, staying as far from the window as she could. Her thoughts came more easily when she moved and it took little time to come up with a plan.
First, she must get free of this chamber.
Then, she would send word to Alexander.
Finally, she and Alexander would escape their fathers’ demands and control.
Isabel was not clear yet on the how and the where of it, but she trusted that Alex would have a plan by the time he helped her escape Dunvegan and her father.
Somehow.
A few hours passed before she called out to the guard her father had left outside her door, asking for her father’s forgiveness. No response came that night or the two days following. With only a jug of water left for her use and no food, she was weak and cold when the door opened and her father entered. From the victorious smirk that lay across his stony face and her mother’s worried expression as she peeked into the chamber, Isabel knew her punishment was not over yet.
“Bring her to the hall. My daughter can beg my forgiveness in the place where she insulted me.”
Two guards entered and took her by the arms and she was dragged down the stairs from her chamber in the west tower. After two and more days exposed to the cold and wind without food, she had not the strength to oppose the guards. And when they stopped at the front of the chamber and her father took his place there in the huge chair reserved for him, their hold was the only thing keeping her on her feet.
Isabel tried to put words together in her thoughts, to prepare herself to apologize, but terror filled her as she watched her father nod to someone behind her. She had seen the expression on his face before and it did not bode well for her. Daring a glance over her shoulder, she watched as the huge giant of a man called Gair strode forward and stopped just a pace behind her.
“My daughter has insulted my honor before all of you,” her father called out. Isabel’s body trembled. “A recalcitrant daughter is something no man should bear.” Without realizing it, Isabel began tugging against the guards’ hold on her. “Certainly not the chieftain of the Clan MacLeod.”
As many voices called out in his support, her father nodded to Gair who grabbed the back of her gown and tore it open with only his hands.
“Father, I pray you,” she called out. “Forgive me!”
Isabel knew what came next. She had witnessed it many times, usually when kith or kin misbehaved and sometimes when they willfully disobeyed.
Willful disobedience.
Her throat tightened and shudders coursed through her then, causing the guards to strengthen their grasp of her arms. With one final tear, her gown fell open exposing her entire back to those watching. Naked now from her shoulders to her feet, she realized the punishment to come.
Whipping. He would have her whipped with a lash.
“My lord?” Gair said, his voice sending shivers through her.
“Ten, Gair,” he ordered. “And do not hold back because she is my daughter.”
“Aye, my lord,” Gair said, dropping the length of his whip and shaking it free. He snapped it in the air next to her a few times and she could not help but tremble each time.
“You there, hold her head up so I can see her face.” The guard on her left took hold of her hair and pulled it tightly, forcing her face up.
“Father, I beg your forgiveness. I ken I was wrong. I pray you....”
