Chapter 27

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

" E loise, please, take off the veil." Murdoch hissed in her ear. He'd grown tired of this now. He'd stood beside her dutifully and been as patient as he possibly could, whilst the celebrations carried on around them. Most people took to the floor dancing, and it seemed almost every couple did apart from them. The one time that Murdoch had attempted to draw Eloise forward, she resisted, pulling his hand back again. "What is wrong? If ye didnae wish tae marry me, then why did ye agree tae it in church?"

Her fingers entwined with his own. It was a clear sign that she didn't wish to refuse him and wanted this marriage too, but there was still something strange about that touch.

It just doesnae feel right.

When Fergus' last toast to their happiness was finished, Murdoch knocked back his wine, so angered that he didn't mind the idea of being in his cups for the rest of the evening. On Fergus' other side sat Clyde, who had barely said a word all evening as the chair where Harper was supposed to be sitting was empty. Beatrice was nowhere to be seen either. On the dance floor were Ian and Aila, enjoying themselves, whilst off to the side sat Avery and Callie. Avery sat still, clearly looking after his wound, though he repeatedly glanced at Eloise.

Murdoch could hardly blame him for it. It appeared he was not the only one to be bothered by Eloise's strange behavior all day.

"Nae more of this." He turned to face her in the chair, tired of this frustration. "Take off the veil."

She shook her head but pointed upward with her finger to the ceiling. It was a subtle sign of what she did want.

"Our chamber? Aye, very well." At least then he might get a glimpse beneath that veil and discover what was so wrong with her today. He waited until Fergus was completely distracted, dragged to the floor by one of the widows in the clan, then he took his opportunity to leave. Murdoch offered Eloise his hand and crept out of the door. He glanced back once to see that only one person noticed their departure – Avery. The frown on his face only deepened a little, but he did nothing to stop them.

It was late afternoon now, with the light dipping in the sky. Not yet evening, no candles had been lit in the castle, so the light through the windows was grey as Murdoch led Eloise back to their chamber. He stepped inside hurriedly, casting her hand out of his.

"I dinnae understand ye." For some reason, he couldn't bear holding that hand right now. He wanted to see Eloise again first. "After what passed between us the other day, ye give me the cold shoulder our entire wedding day?"

He turned to face her. She walked toward him, shaking her head.

"Have ye become a mute and lost the power of yer tongue?" he hissed in a low tone, backing up from her and colliding with the door. He had no idea why he was backing up from her after what they had already shared between them. All he knew was that this didn't feel right.

She shrugged, the only sign she gave of communicating with him at all.

"I'm reaching the end of my tether here," he muttered darkly.

She stepped away and reached toward the table in their chamber. In the middle of the table on a copper tray was a silver jug, engraved with the clan emblem. She lifted the jug and poured out two cups. Murdoch cocked his head to the side as he watched her movements.

Something isnae right about that.

He'd seen Eloise pour out wine and mead many times by now, yet today, she held the jug in a slightly different way. It was something he felt deeply in his gut as he stared at her.

Wait… is this Eloise at all?

He marched toward her, determined to rip that veil off her face and see for himself. She was the right sort of height, but any hint of her skin was hidden so he could not be sure. The gloves covered her hands and the veil her face so well, it would be a good disguise.

Before he could even touch that thick veil, she spun back around to face him and proffered forward one of the cups. She wanted him to drink.

"Ye wish me tae drink and be at ease with ye? How can ye expect me tae dae that when ye are hiding behind this ridiculous thing?" He gestured to the veil. She took hold of the base of the cup and pressed it toward him, clearly eager once again.

This isnae right!

Eloise's scent was so familiar to him now. She usually smelled of bergamot and rose. He loved that scent. He'd been enveloped in it when he had made love to her at the loch side. Yet this woman smelled different. There was a scent of lilies that felt strangely wrong about her.

She backed up from him, releasing the cup now, though she waved at him, eager for him to drink once again.

Slowly, he lifted the cup toward his lip then froze, trying as hard as he could not to reveal on his face that he had detected the scent of the mead.

That smells nothing like mead.

The honey fragrance was gone. In its place there were poppies. He'd smelt such a thing before in the healer's cottage. It was dwale, or something similar, with the power of opium.

Uncertain what was happening, he pretended to take a sip, keeping his lips closed over the rim of the cup as he watched her closely. The figure in the veil seemed to soften, her shoulders slumping a little as she clasped her laced hands together. She ushered him toward the bed.

She wishes me tae consummate this marriage?

He walked toward the bed, not saying anything as he kept his eyes on her. He pretended to take another sip as he sat down, leaning against the pillows. She waited a minute, clearly hoping the drink would soon have its effect before she disappeared behind the screen and changed.

Murdoch hastily put the cup down on a table beside him and laid back, pretending to be under the sedative's power. He held his breath, waiting for her to return, more certain than ever before that Eloise was not the woman beneath that veil. As he'd turned his head away from her, he had to strain to hear her bare feet padding across the room toward him. As she grew nearer, he saw through the shadows that she was no longer wearing her veil and she had slipped into her chemise.

Nay, it cannae be her.

She reached toward him, nervously chewing her lip in the shadows. Before her hand could take his shoulder, Murdoch moved sharply. He gripped her wrist, lurching upward and moving to his feet.

Harper.

"What? Nay. Nay!" Harper cried out, finding her voice at last. "Murdoch, ye are supposed tae be…" She glanced at the full cup on the table beside him.

"Ye think I cannae tell when someone has laced me drink with something, Harper?" he hissed and pushed her away from him, down to the floor. Such anger took over him at this deception, he didn't care that his brother's betrothed cried out in pain as she fell to the ground.

Oh God, nay…

He realized at once that she was no longer Clyde's betrothed. She was his wife. He had married her, granted by deception, but they had gone through with the ceremony.

"Ye sicken me," Murdoch spat as she sat up, trying to clamber to her feet to look him in the eye.

"Murdoch, please." She reached out her hands toward him, but he brushed her off. He couldn't bear the thought of her touching him.

"Ye made me marry ye?" he asked, stepping back from her in disbelief. "God's blood, Harper. Ye took Eloise's place. And ye were ready tae seal this marriage with me unconscious? Why? What fer?"

"Ye could never see it as I did." She was tearful, great streams coming down her cheeks that she hastily brushed away with the backs of her wrists. "Ye could never see it that ye were meant tae be with me, Murdoch. I could see it. I had tae make it happen, for both of our sakes."

"Madness," Murdoch murmured, backing up from Harper as quickly as he could. She stood to her feet, no longer appearing like the sweet and rather quiet woman that Clyde was to marry. She had transformed and looked rather ghostly, with her skin pale, her hair wild and that white chemise covering her body. She rounded one of the bed posts, trying to get nearer to him, but he backed up, keeping as much distance between them as he could. "Harper, have ye taken leave of yer senses!? Ye are tae marry Clyde."

"I never said ‘aye' tae that. It was yer father's and me father's doing." She looped one of her arms around the bed post. "It was always ye I wanted, Murdoch. From the day ye and I met, I kenned I loved ye, and ye could love me. Just as soon as ye stopped looking at Lillie, ye would look at me."

Murdoch felt weak at the knees.

Lillie.

He backed up from the bed and reached the table, darting around it and putting the table between them.

"Dinnae tell me ye did that tae her, Harper. Dinnae tell me ye pushed yer own sister off that cliff top."

"She flew." Harper stood emotionless, as if it was only natural. "It was quite a beautiful sight before the… the final part."

"God's blood!" Murdoch backed up from her as much as he could, reaching for the door when he realized in horror there was another to worry about that. "Where is Eloise?"

"What?" Harper shook herself, as if she didn't remember the name at all.

"Harper!" Murdoch marched back toward her. He took hold of Harper's wrists and shook her, trying to bring some sense to her. "What have ye done with Eloise?"

"Ye didnae need her. I ken yer marriage was a fake one, Murdoch. Ye didnae need tae go ahead with it. Ye married me instead –"

"I wanted tae marry her." Murdoch put as much strength into his voice as he could muster. It made Harper's face change. It altered from some doe-eyed madness to pure fury.

"Nay. Nay, that isnae possible. Ye cannae love her."

"I do!" Murdoch felt the truth of the words as they erupted from him. Never had he been so certain of anything. Harper tried to cower back away from him, as if he had struck her with those words. "Where is she? Harper, tell me now. Where is she?"

"There is nae point searching fer her."

"What do ye mean by that?" Murdoch released her, stepping back one again.

"She'll be dead soon enough." Harper stared forward, but without focus, as if she was looking straight through him. "Ye cannae find her. It is the way it has tae be. Ye were never supposed tae be with her, Murdoch. Never –" She reached for him again, but he bolted for the door before she could touch him.

Murdoch sprinted from the room.

"Avery! Ian! Clyde!" he bellowed all of their names as he ran through the corridors in search of them all.

Yet Harper followed behind and he could not escape her, she continued to chase after him.

"Nay, Murdoch. Nay! Ye cannae go after her."

There was a wild idea of where Eloise could be. It seemed mad, but then again, everything about this situation was mad. If he was right, he couldn't waste a moment going back to the feast and explaining everything to his friends and family. He'd have to send a message to them instead.

I have tae get out of here now.

Eloise lifted her head. Her throat was hoarse from all the shouting and screaming she had done, begging that someone would come by and hear her, but they never did. Tears ran down her cheeks as she never once gave up fighting the ropes around her wrists. By now, they had dug so deep that she could feel them scoring into her skin. The drips of warm blood ran down her wrists and onto her palms, but she never stopped.

A sudden sound in the corridor beyond drew her attention. She turned her head toward the door, listening, praying that it was someone who had come to help her.

A key was thrust into the lock and the door was opened, but any prayer she had sent to God that it would be Murdoch or Avery was not to be answered. Two figures stood in the doorway, cloaked in hoods. They looked just like the pair who had attacked her in the garden that day at the castle.

With horror, Eloise stared at them, her wrists falling limp in their ties.

They were never sent here by Stewart. It was all orchestrated by Harper. These men, somehow, they work fer her!

One of the men jerked their hand in her direction and the other man approached. He reached for the ties on her wrist and undid them. She held her breath, waiting for the moment that they would be loose enough for her to act. As soon as she was free, she bent forward and kicked the chair back into one of the hooded men. He fell down with a heavy grunt, clearly not expecting her to fight.

She flung herself at the door, trying to escape as she tore the rope down from her mouth.

"Help! Help!" she screamed. "Murdoch!"

The man guarding the door took hold of her mouth and stopped her from shouting anymore. He forced her backward, pushing her with that hand until she dropped to the cobbles, grimacing at the pain that shot up her back. The other man recovered and reached for her. Grasping hold of her hands, he forced her wrists up behind her back once more, fixing them tight with a rope.

"What are ye doing here? What are ye going tae dae tae me?" She reasoned they could have killed her here, if that's what they wanted to do, but strangely, they didn't show any sign of doing so.

"We have our orders," the hooded man in the doorway answered her. "We'll take her out of the back gate. That way if she keeps screaming, nae one will hear her."

There was something chilling to Eloise that he wasn't going to bother replacing the rope around her mouth. He knew he had power over her enough that any shout she could make would be fruitless.

"Let me go," she pleaded. "If there's any heart in ye at all, any humanity, ye willnae take me from this place. Ye will let me go back tae me betrothed."

"Have ye nae heard the celebrations?" the man in the doorway asked, pointing at the ceiling. "Yer betrothed has married another. I dinnae see him here looking fer ye, dae ye?"

All sorts of mad and panicked ideas ran through Eloise's head. Was it possible that Murdoch still hadn't realized she was not the woman beneath that veil? Surely not by now, as light was fading from the sky, and they would soon retire to their chamber. Another gutting idea filled her head – what if he preferred Harper? What if he was happy to find Harper under that veil?

Nay, nay! That is a foolish thought. Did he nae make love tae me the other day? Did he nae say he couldnae bear the thought of anything ever happening tae me?

Her fears were playing tricks on her mind, that was all.

"Let me go," Eloise ordered again, finding more volume in her voice. Yet she had shouted for hours for help, for so long that her throat hurt to call out now. It barely sounded like her own voice at all, but a faint version of what it once had been.

"Take her," the man ordered, jerking his head and stepping back through the doorway.

The hooded man behind Eloise took hold of her waist and lifted her high. No matter how much she kicked out, striking anything in order to impede his progress, it was no good. He kept on walking with her, and he was so strong that when she planted the soles of her shoes against a doorframe, he merely pushed forward harder, beating the muscle in her legs so she was forced to crumple.

He dragged her up a set of spiral stairs, but rather than coming out into the main courtyard of the castle, they emerged in a small square toward the back of the curtain walls. They were far away from the keep and the main events.

"Murdoch! Murdoch?" As Eloise shouted for him, praying that her voice would carry toward him on the wind, she realized that it was a foolish wish. The wind whistled so strongly it drowned out her voice completely. "Where are ye taking me?" she demanded of the two hooded men as they tossed her over the saddle of a horse and bound her wrists to the saddle, so she could not fall off the horse.

"Ye'll see soon enough," one of them answered grimly.