Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

Angus glared around at everyone, his hands twitching at his sides. He was a man that didn't like to be challenged, in any way. He had always been catered to, simply because of who he was, but even more so once he became Laird. With the power to answer to no one, he ruled the clan and the lands with fear. If anyone rose against him, he would make sure they would never do it again. Sometimes it took simply threatening the family, but over times, he became ruthless and evil. Very few knew the full extent of what he had done, but the rumors alone were enough to spark fear into people.

The situation in front of him, though, was not one he could threaten his way out of. James knew he couldn't be trusted, there was no question in that, but he was pinned down at that moment. If Angus were to refuse the challenge, technically he would have to give up his Lairdship. He would never just hand it over, which would mean he would have a lot of cleanup to do in order to keep it quiet. Refusing would brand him a coward, something he hated more than anything else. Angus wasn't known for handling tough situations well, or at all, for that matter. He had James when he was just a young lad, and his henchmen when he came into power.

Standing in the library he was alone, and all eyes were on him. Angus knew that the guards and Blair were witnesses, and he couldn't afford to rid himself of all of those issues. He either had to accept being known as a coward, like he had been calling James for years, or concede and enter into a duel that he wasn't necessarily equipped to handle. Angus thought himself invincible though, and even the thought of death was better to him than being known as a coward. His hold over the clan would crumble if no one feared him any longer.

"You want yer duel? Fine, I accept," he growled at James. "Just as it was supposed to be seven years ago."

"And Blair?" James asked.

Angus rolled his eyes. "She will be locked in her quarters, only her servant with her. I will have these two guard her all night, as punishment for refusing my orders."

"I would feel more comfortable if I were the one guarding her," James replied. "Though I don't suppose you'll be letting me walk freely in the castle tonight."

"Your precious whore will be safe. I have no interest in her. As for you, I wouldn't dream of testing your impeccable moral fiber. I don't plan on having a blade to my throat tonight. I am the Laird and you are an unwanted visitor. You'll stay in the dungeons tonight, without your weapons. The guards will hold them."

James slid his sword into the sheath and unbuckled it from his waist, handing it over to Shamos before turning to Blair and nodding. Her eyes sparkled with tears, and he knew she was terrified to be left alone, but he knew she would be safe enough for the night. Angus had accepted, which meant all terms would be kept and, there would be a sort of truce held until the duel. With witnesses there, James knew Angus had no choice but to go along with everything. Making him stay in the dungeon wasn't quite what would have happened in the past, but at least down there he knew he would be safer than in his room.

He followed Shamus out with McCleary following behind. To Angus it looked like an escort, but in reality, both were there more to protect James than to keep him from leaving. The three stayed silent through the castle and down the first winding staircase to the land midway down. Shamos stopped and turned to James, shaking his head. "James, I didn't believe my ears when the gate guard said he thought ye were here. McCleary and I came right up. That's why we were out there, we came to see if it was true. The true McFerguson has returned."

McCleary handed him his sword back. "I know it's yer grandfather's. Keep it with ye in yer cell tonight."

James smiled, his nerves easing for a moment. He hugged both of the guys. "I nearly didn't recognize the two of ye. Ye got old."

Shamos and McCleary both laughed. Shamos rubbed the back of his neck as the stairwell went quiet. "I'll tell ye it hasn't been an easy seven or so years. Yer brother, well, I think yer startin' to have a good idea. He's got a few men who do his dirty work. Started with some threats to keep the peace but about a year in, he torched old Farthing's farm with him in bed with his wife."

James closed his eyes for a moment, a clear picture of Farthing McCleary in his head. The man had been friends with James' grandfather, and was still going strong when James left the clan. "Did ye see 'em do it?"

McCleary, Farthing's great nephew shook his head. "Neither of us saw it, but my sister's little boy saw the guy's head in there, and it was on fire when they left. My great uncle had been quarreling with Angus on the amount of barley bein' demanded from the farm fer the castle. It wasn't 'sposed to be that way. We provide, everybody does, but we don't steal, yer father saw to that. I joined the guard right after, thinkin' I could keep my wife and daughter safe."

James put his hand on McCleary's shoulder. "I'm sorry fer yer loss. Farthing was a good man, a loyal man. And congratulations on the wifey and babe. Here I figured no woman with good sense would ever let ye bed her."

They all laughed again, hushing quickly at the sound of voices at the top of the steps. The voices moved on, but the three headed further down toward the dungeons. Shamos sighed as they walked. "The village is a shambles. They don't have no healers anymore. Angus, after hearin' what happened to the lass's uncle, got real uptight 'bout anything that he perceived as magic. He doesn't mind them tendin' to him, but he found the people do more for him if he has more to hang over their heads. Three summers in was the worst. There was an outbreak in the village affectin' the babies. We buried probably ten babes that summer. I'll never forget the sound of the cryin' mothers."

McCleary stopped for a moment and shut his eyes. "He tortures people too. Good people. A few years back, a group of English folk came through from the port. They were somehow connected to royalty. They told him all about the torture chambers they had. Angus, he has a hard on fer the English royalty, wants to be one, I'm sure of it. That's when he really turned from bad to straight evil. Stopped goin' to the service in the village, and fer a good six weeks, ye could hear the screams coming from the castle. But the hunger people have is the worst. They know we'd help if we could, but we barely get rations either."

"And don't let anyone under Angus' thumb catch ye givin' yer food to a hungry clan family," Shamos added. "Got me some good whip scars to prove it."

Shamos stopped in front of an open cell. The dungeons looked even more ominous than what James remembered as a kid. His father rarely used them, and didn't like him being down there, but Angus used to chase him down and lock him in there frequently. The cell they stopped at was clean, though, with a small table, an oil lamp, and a cot.

Shamos handed him the key. "It's the dungeon guard's sleepin' cell. The dungeons are empty. Angus ordered 'em emptied before his new bride arrived. He didn't want them hollerin', givin' off a bad impression. It locks from the inside, so you'll be safe in there. Don't suspect Angus will be comin' to look fer ye anyway. He may act tough, but ye're the one person he's most terrified of."

"Where did they send the prisoners?" James asked.

McCleary shrugged. "Don't know, but we did see a big plume of smoke in the middle of the night comin' from the big cleared fields at the edge of the forest."

James sneered, shaking his head. He hugged both of the men again and breathed in deeply, ignoring the rotting smell wafting from the other cells. "I'm sorry I left. I thought it were fer the best. At the time, I couldn't think about killin' my own brother."

"And now?" Shamos asked.

James looked at him with weary eyes. "Everything is gonna get better once I defeat Angus tomorrow mornin'. The only thing I care about right now is making sure that Blair is safe and taken care of. Please, promise me you'll keep her safe tonight."

They both nodded, McCleary patting his sword. "Nobody's gonna hurt the lassy. We'll see that she's safe and far away from Angus fer the night."

James closed the cell door and locked it, sticking the key in his pocket. "Thank you, lads. I'll see ye in the mornin'."

Neither of the men seemed like they wanted to leave him there, but James was most concerned with getting Blair protection as fast as possible. He wanted to see her, hold her, assure her everything would be alright, but he couldn't. He just hoped that her faith in him was strong enough, and that she would forgive him for keeping his secrets, and for everything that had happened upon their arrival.

There were worse things than an impending duel with his brother, and losing Blair in any way was at the top of that list. He just hoped he wouldn't die before he had a chance to tell her that.

"Where are you taking me?" Blair asked as she was pulled along through the castle by Clara, her servant. "Clara, please, can we slow down just a moment? I need to catch my breath."

Clara stopped in her tracks and turned to look at Blair, who was panting, her face flushed. Clara looked around for a moment and pulled Blair into the room to the right, closing the door behind her. It was a small room with old tapestries propped against the walls and linens folded, stacked under a layer of dust in the corner. Blair walked over to the window and pulled back the drapes, letting in the light. She bent forward, putting her hands on her knees, catching her breath. She looked up at Clara with sweat peppering her forehead. "Why are we racing through the halls like this?"

Clara looked behind her at the closed door and moved closer to Blair. She whispered to her, trying to stay off the radar. "Ye have angered the Laird. His brother has come back and challenged him to a duel. And there is talk of an uprising already brewin' within the guards and staff of the castle. Laird McFerguson is dangerous, and even more so now. I am tryin' to get ye to yer room to wait fer the guards. There's no tellin' what he'll do."

Blair stood, glancing out the window as rain poured down. She shivered, getting the same feeling as she did the night her father came home, the night she last saw him alive. "How do ye know all this?"

Clara's cheeks reddened and she looked down. "There's a guard…we've known each other fer a long time."

"And you love him," Blair replied sadly.

She knew that in a situation like the one Clara was in, there was no way she could marry a guard, or marry at all. She was not a staff member like the ones her clan had at the keep, she was a servant, held there without free will of her own. Blair suddenly realized something. She had been so engrossed in her own world, in saving her sisters, that she didn't take time to think about all the other people sharing the wrath of a mad Laird. James winning the duel the next day didn't just allow for Blair to come up with a plan to save her sisters and herself, it would save those people too.

Reaching out, Blair took Clara's hand. "I'm sorry. I…"

Blair paused tilting her head to the side, staring at a shimmering gold frame propped in the corner. The painting it held was partially covered by a large linen, but she recognized the shimmering eyes on the boy. Blair walked over and pushed the cloth away, stepping back next to Clara to look at the painting. A stream of sunlight from a hole in the clouds put a spotlight on the painting.

Clara crossed her arms over her chest. "I haven't seen that painting since I was a little girl. It used to hang in the study before Angus was Laird. It's…"

"James and his family when he was a boy," Blair whispered.

James stood next to his father, a spitting image of the man he was today. He held a wooden sword in one hand and his mother's hand in the other. On the other side of his mother was Angus, a pudgy child, his clothes perfect, his chin tilted upward. He looked as if he were added to the painting later, completely different from his kin.

Clara sighed. "When I was a young lass, my father brought me to a ball here in the castle. I stared at this picture as the guests danced, laughed, and ate. When I looked over, I saw James standin' with his father, proud and strong. I was a shy girl, and while it was like a dream, comin' from a small farm and gettin' to dance in fancy dresses, I didn't fit in. All the other girls there my age had these beautiful gowns, and I was wearin' a dress my mother made me. I was proud of it, don't get me wrong, prettiest thing I ever had, but not like the other girls. James saw the girls laughin' at me and came over and asked me to dance. It was the kindest thing. He was a good man before he was even a man. He was meant to be Laird."

Blair smiled at Clara and put her hand on Clara's shoulder. "Come on. Let's get back to the room. You need to stay safe just as much as me. Ye can tell me stories tonight."

Clara broke her gaze from the picture and looked at Blair with wide eyes. "Thank ye, m'lady. That's so kind of ye. We're close."

Clara and Blair snuck from the closet and headed down the long corridors, keeping quiet and shifting between the shadows until they reached the room. The two guards from earlier were already standing and waiting for them. They both came to attention as the girls approached. Shamos nodded. "M'lady, I am Shamos, and that there is McCleary. We will be stationed outside to protect ye. Let us know if ye need anything."

"Thank you," Blair replied.

Shamos leaned in and whispered to Blair and Clara. "Our loyalties lie with the generational traditions and the family honor of this clan. You are safe with us."

Blair understood what that meant. The guys were loyal to James, and were obviously willing to keep her safe no matter what. It was just like James to make sure she was safe, even when he couldn't be there. Blair nodded at Shamos and entered the room with Clara. They shut and locked the thick wooden door behind them. Clara handed Blair the key to the room. "If anything were to happen, get yerself to safety, M'Lady."

"Call me Blair," she said, uncomfortable with the reverence being shown. "And if I go, you are comin' with me."

Clara smiled and looked around the room. "I'll get a fire started to cut the cold in here. We prepared the room fer your arrival but I don't believe we'll be gettin' supper at all."

"I'm not very hungry, anyway, and I'm used to goin' without food," Blair replied, walking over and sitting down on the large four-posted bed.

It was a beautiful room with lavish fabrics, a feather bed, and linens that felt like heaven. It reminded her of when she was a young girl, sneaking into her parent's chambers in the morning to wake them. They had the softest blankets. Blair knew that if she were to marry Angus, she would be comfortable there, but comfort meant nothing to her without her sisters. She'd rather be sleeping in the woods knowing her sisters were safe, than sleeping in the castle with them left to her cousin's worst.

Clara walked over and sat down next to Blair. "I was standing outside of the study and overheard much of the conversation. Are your sisters in danger?"

Blair sighed. "They were when I left, and I can't assume anything has really changed. It's possibly gotten worse since I'm not there to protect them."

"Tell me about them."

Blair was surprised, not used to anyone asking her about her sisters on a personal level. "Well, Deirdre is the baby, just turned ten years old. She is definitely a handful, and finds herself in precarious places. It's a bit our fault, though. She was just a babe when our father died, and has been babied the longest. Aoife, she's the next. She's twelve and when ye think of a princess, that's what she's envisioned herself as. She had a habit of stealin' fabrics from what was left of our parent's things and taught herself to sew. She hides dresses she makes under her cot in her room. They are… interesting, but they make her happy. And then there's Jocelyn, and she's fifteen. She's probably the most mature of all of us. Well, mature may not be the word. She's smart, so smart, and our mother taught her and I to read to her when were little. She reads anything she can get her hands on. I would 'borrow' books from the keep when I was there, and the staff would bring her some as well."

"It sounds like you really love them," Clara replied. "I had a sister."

"You did?"

Clara nodded. "She was older than me. Her name was Helena and she was the most beautiful Highlander woman I've ever seen. Long sparklin' red hair, seafoam eyes, and always looked elegant. But she was feisty too, n'er let anyone get the best of her."

"Where is she?" Blair asked.

Clara shrugged. "I dunno. When Angus took the Lairdship and James left, my brother-in-law was workin' fer him. When he started to get really bad, doin' dark things, and hurtin' people, my brother-in-law spoke up. He got on Angus' bad side. Seein' as my sister was pregnant and all, they left. I woke to a letter from her delivered to me here at the castle. Didn't say where they were goin'."

Blair's heart broke for Clara. "Do ye wish they took ye with them?"

Clara breathed deeply, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I did at first, but then I met…the guard I told ye about and even if we can't be wed, he has my heart. I'd rather see him in secret meetings once a moon than n'er see him again. But maybe, just maybe, yer James can change all that."

Blair chuckled. "Well, he's not my James, but I'm really hopin' he does. I'm terrified for him."

Clara giggled. Blair cocked an eyebrow. "What?"

Clara shook her head. "Oh, nothin'. It's just fer someone who says he isn't yours, ye sure do get all dewy-eyed when ye speak of him. Υe can trust me. Besides, I can see those kinds of things. It's like a useless special talent. Just cause some terrible Laird sold ye to another Laird don't mean ye have to keep yer heart in a glass jar."

Blair put her hand to her stomach, staring at Clara. She was so right. She couldn't help who she cared about, and though she knew she had feelings for James, she hadn't realized their extent, until his life became seriously endangered. What did she have to lose at that point anyway? She was sure that if James lost in the morning, she would be either dead, or tucked away somewhere out of sight. Angus wasn't going to marry her, not after everything that had happened. He had no real reason to.

James was sitting in a dark and dank dungeon room all alone and it might be the last night he was alive. It might be the last night he was in Blair's life, and she hadn't told him how much he meant to her. She knew she needed to make a plan to get her sisters to safety, but sitting there in that beautiful room, the storm brewing outside, all she could think about was seeing James, making sure he knew…whatever it was that was on her mind and in her heart. She lost the chance to say what she wanted to say to her father, but she wouldn't do that with James.

Thunder crashed outside and Blair jumped up, looking down at Clara. "I have to see James."

Clara stood up, shaking her head. "That's impossible. It's too dangerous."

Blair shook her head, heading toward the door. "I've lived my life in the shadows, and I had to learn how to do things in a dangerous place. I just need a little help."

She pulled out the key and opened the door. Outside, Shamos and McCleary turned, slightly startled by her sudden appearance. She looked up and down the hall and stepped back into the room, motioning for them to enter. When they did, she shut the door and turned to face them.

"What is it? Are you in danger?" Shamos asked, glancing around.

Blair shook her head. "No more than usual it seems. I need your help. I need you to take me to James."

Shamos looked at her like she was crazy. "We can't do that. What if we run into Angus? You'd be better off just stayin' right here until the mornin'."

"By then it will be too late. I need to talk to him. I need to…explain something." She was flustered by her inability to explain. "Haven't ye ever lost someone and regretted not havin' the chance to tell them one last thing? To set the air clean? I'm not sayin' he'll lose tomorrow, but I don't want to face the future if he does, without seein' him. He's been my protector, my friend for most of my life after my father died. Please."

Shamos shook his head but McCleary stepped up. "I'll take her."

Shamos' eyes went wide. "But if ye get caught…"

"I get caught," McCleary stated. "If James loses tomorrow, do ye think I'll still be here like we didn't disobey the Laird? She's been through enough. I'll take her. You stay here and guard the door. If anyone asks, I went to grab us some coffee for the long night."

Shamos nodded, glancing at Blair before walking out. Clara hurried over with Blair's cape and tied it over her shoulders, putting the hood up. "I'll be here waitin' for ye. Be careful."

Blair nodded, looking up at the window as the thunder rumbled again. Whatever fate was bringing her way, she hoped that night didn't end like the one so many years ago. She had endured enough death in her life, and she needed James in more ways than she really truly understood.