Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

“ Y ou did what?” Enya cried.

At the dining table, Domhnall’s younger sister, Enya sat beside her twin, Thora. All the siblings were together for supper, and between Magnus and Kai’s explanations, the sisters were now up to speed on what had happened.

While Thora and Enya were identical in almost every way, Enya’s hair was a shade lighter than Thora’s black-as-a-raven locks. Thora’s eyes also appeared more mysterious and intense, which likely had to do with her gift, for all of the siblings possessed a power.

“I willnae be humiliated in front o’ the entire clan, Enya,” Domhnall defended. “Ye’ve yet tae meet her.”

“Aye.” Kai grinned. “She’s nae the meek and quiet English rose Domhnall was expecting, that’s fer sure.”

“That’s nae excuse tae throw her in the dungeon,” Enya argued. “For heaven’s sake, Domhnall, what is wrong with ye? She’s probably terrified, and besides, she’s been travelling fer days. I think I would be a little grumpy if I had been forced from me family home and sent hundreds of miles away tae marry someone I’d never met. A Scot at that.”

Enya was imbued with empathy and always saw the good in everyone. Her petite and delicate build only complimented her serene and nurturing presence, and anyone who met her could not help but feel drawn to her. Her power was one of healing, but she was also the comforter of all those with troubled souls.

Her gift involved taking other’s people’s pain and replacing it with good feelings. Something Domhnall imagined she would try to do the minute she laid her eyes on Lady de Beaumont.

“Ye’re taking her side?” Domhnall blurted as he forked meat onto his plate. “She kicked me…” He did not finish the sentence, but by now, his younger sisters were bound to have heard about it.

“Ye probably deserved it,” Thora joked.

Domhnall scowled at her across the table. “Aye, well, tell me this, sister? How did ye nae see that she was coming?”

Thora shrugged. “Ye ken me gift doesnae work like that. Anyway,” she smirked, “how dae ye ken I didnae?”

“Did ye?” Magnus blurted, his fork halfway to his mouth.

“O’ course, she didnae,” Domhnall said, rolling his eyes. “Ye ken our sister tells me all her visions.”

“Nae all o’ them,” Thora replied, a smile dancing on her lips.

Thora had discovered she had second sight when she had been only six years old. When the visions had happened in her sleep, their parents had thought they were night terrors. But once Thora began falling into trances during the day, screaming out in fear of what she saw, it became quickly apparent that it was far more than a bad dream and she learned how to recognize her visions among real dreams.

In contrast to Enya’s gentle ways, Thora was strong-willed, determined, and fiercely independent. She was as slender as her sister, yet had an ethereal presence to her character. Many found her to be mysterious, something she rather relished, but beneath her tough exterior, she had a kind heart and a deep sense of empathy for others.

With his mouth half-full, Kai said, “I’m with the lasses on this one, Domhnall. I think ye took it too far.”

Domhnall looked at his brother with astonishment. “Really? After what she said and did?”

Kai shrugged and shook his head. “It was fun fer a while, but…” he trailed off.

Taking his gaze to Magnus, Domhnall said, “And what about ye? Are ye in agreement with everyone else? Dae ye think I took it too far?”

Magnus looked at Domhnall fer a long moment.

“I dinnae want ye tae read me mind, Magnus. Just answer the damned question,” Domhnall growled.

Magnus breathed in and let out a long, slow breath. “Aye. I think ye could have handled things a little better. Enya’s right. The poor woman has been travelling fer a week or more. The dungeon is hardly the welcome we decided on fer her.”

It was Domhnall who then heaved a sigh. This was his family. The closest people to his person and his heart. He hated disappointing them, and had tried, since taking his position as laird, not to do so. It wasn’t always easy, and he had failed sometimes. He was only a man after all, powers or not. He had discovered early on that his father’s shoes were hard to fill.

Ordinarily, however, when he failed them, it was usually individually. This night, it was clear all his siblings were on the same side, and he was the fiend. And yet, even with their protestations, he still felt like the punishment was justified. Indeed, she had travelled many miles, and was likely cold and tired, but he had given Lady de Beaumont ample opportunity to correct her arrogance. That kick in his groin, not to mention spitting in his face, had been the last straw.

In fact, it had taken everything he had not to let his emotions overcome him entirely. It was when the likes of anger or rage took him over that his extraordinary strength burst from him, and on several occasions, he had lashed out and hurt people too much.

The excruciating pain she had caused with that kick, although it had mostly hurt his ego, had very nearly put him over the edge, and in his anger, he had taken her to the dungeons far quicker than any man ordinarily could. It had been a foolish thing to do, for she had picked up on it immediately, as anyone might. He could not have outsiders knowing about his powers. His or in fact, any of his siblings’ for that matter. It was too dangerous.

He had heard stories of those with gifts being captured, kidnapped, and their powers used for the perpetrator’s own gain. He would never allow that to happen to his family. He would protect them to the death.

“It’s because she’s English, isnae it?” Enya said.

“Nay. It’s because she’s a rude, arrogant woman,” Domhnall replied caustically.

By Enya’s expression, it was clear she did not believe him, but he knew why she had said such a thing. They had all suffered at the hands of the English. Their parents had been murdered by an English raid years before, and every single one of them felt guilty that, despite their gifts and abilities, not one of them had been able to prevent it from happening.

A knock on the dining room door cut into Domhnall’s thoughts, and turning, he watched a guard enter and approach the table.

“I’m sorry tae disturb yer meal, me laird, but I thought ye’d like tae be informed that Lady de Beaumont isnae eating or drinking what has been brought tae her.”

“Thank ye,” Domhnall nodded.

The guard returned the nod, and swiftly left.

When Domhnall looked back towards the table, all his siblings were gawking at him. He didn’t need their piercing gazes to feel worse. Him throwing her into the dungeons had been meant as a teasing punishment, not torture.

“Ye need tae go down there right this minute and let her out,” Enya demanded, gesturing to the door. “Go and speak tae her, and then have her brought tae her bedchamber fer a bath, like a normal person would.”

But even though Enya’s words were wise, Domhnall was still struggling to forgive Lady de Beaumont’s previous actions. Enya had been right earlier. Part of his animosity towards Lady de Beaumont had to do with the fact she was English. Her arrogance and the way she had acted toward him had only exacerbated his dislike of her.

“Domhnall,” Thora added, “this woman is tae be yer wife. Ye cannae lock her up every time she annoys ye.”

“Why nae?” Kai said jokingly, trying, as he always did, to add some light relief.

But Thora only scowled at him, and turning her attention back to Domhnall, she continued, “This situation is ridiculous. She has committed nay crime.”

“She assaulted me,” Domhnall growled.

“Och, come on. Dae ye ken how foolish ye sound? Look at ye? Yer the size o’ a house. I’ll bet she’s a wee tiny thing too.”

“With a good right foot,” Kai chuckled.

“Kai!” Thora and Enya barked together.

Kai ignored his sisters and continued laughing at his own joke, returning to his food as he did so.

“Domhnall?” Thora pressed.

“Fine,” Domhnall hissed, roughly pushing his chair from the table. “I’ll dae it just so I dinnae have tae listen tae yer whining.”

Thora scowled at him, but he ignored her and headed toward the door.

Upon reaching the dungeons, the guard, John, once more, hurriedly stood at his arrival.

“Has she eaten anything yet?” Domhnall asked.

John shook his head, “Nay, me laird. She’s left the food and ale. She willnae go near it.”

Domhnall nodded. “Thank ye, John.”

He then turned toward the cell and nodded for it to be unlocked. Once John had done so, he stepped back and returned to his post.

Domhnall entered the cell, only to be greeted by a glaring stare from Lady de Beaumont.

“Have you come here to gloat?” she hissed. “To show me what a great and powerful laird you are?”

Domhnall shook his head. “Why are ye nae eating?”

“What concern is that of yours?” she said, standing proudly to face him.

“Ye are going tae be me wife, me lady. All this stubbornness is only making things worse.”

“My stubbornness,” she blurted. “And what of yours? I am only in this cell because of your petty pride. Perhaps you are not used to women standing up for themselves. Perhaps all your lasses,” she spat that word, “are accustomed to submissive obeisance.”

Domhnall struggled to hold his temper at her attitude. Clearly, a few hours in a cell had not tempered her arrogance. Nor did he appreciate her presumptions. He wondered, if Thora and Enya could witness this exchange, whether they would be just as concerned for Lady de Beaumont’s welfare.

“Nayone is asking fer submissive obeisance, but a little respect might be nice,” he growled sarcastically.

“Respect is earned,” she retorted.

“Aye, and that goes both ways,” he said taking a step toward her. “Come with me.”

He was about to take her arm, when she stepped back and pulled herself out of his reach. “I am perfectly capable of walking unaided. I don’t need you dragging me through the castle like some wench.”

Clenching his jaw and fists, and working hard to control his temper, Domhnall stood out of her way and thrust a hand at the opened gate of her cell without saying another word. He feared, if he spoke, that something less than savory might leave his lips.

Still, she hesitated, but a few seconds later, she brushed passed him and left the cell with Domhnall following closely behind. It was only when she got to the end of the corridor that she seemed to realize that she had no clue as to where she ought to go, and, slowing her pace, Lady de Beamont had no choice but to wait for Domhnall to take the lead.

He took no pleasure in it. In fact, he was wary of the woman being behind him. At least up front, he could see what she was up to. From what he had experienced of her so far, he was certainly going to have to keep his eye on her.

He led her up the stone steps and they moved through the corridors in silence. He too angry to speak, she clearly having nothing to say. Once inside the castle, they arrived at the bottom of the large stone staircase, and while Domhnall stomped up them, Lady de Beaumont struggled to keep up. So much so, that he was forced to wait for her when they reached the top.

Again, they travelled down several corridors until eventually, he came to a stop at her bedchamber. Turning the handle, he flung the door open and dismissively gestured for her to enter. While he did not show it, he was surprised to see Thora and Enya inside, preparing a bath.

Enya flashed him a smile, but he ignored it, and, after waiting for his future bride to enter, he slammed the door closed. Only then did he screw up his face and shake his fists. Thankfully, no one else happened to be in the corridor to see his raging frustration.

He glanced across the hall at the adjacent door. His own bedchamber. It had been suggested that his betrothed’s chamber be close to his own, both to make her feel welcome, but also for ease. Of course, that decision was made before Lady de Beaumont had arrived. Had Domhnall known what he was in for, he’d have cleared out the cellar and put her bed in there.

“I should never have agreed tae this marriage,” he hissed, now making his way to his study.

Ye did it fer yer clan. Remember that.

Aye, but at what cost tae me sanity?

Sometime later, with several well-needed whiskies in is system, Domhnall sat by the fire, feeling far calmer and relaxed.

He heard the study door open, and looking up, he watched Kai enter.

“I hear ye released the dragon,” his brother joked while pouring himself a drink.

“I think I’d prefer a bloody dragon,” Domhnall sighed. “Even the fire-breathing kind.”

Moving across the room, Kai lowered himself into a matching high-backed chair beside his brother and the fire.

“It’ll get easier. She’ll calm down eventually.”

“Will she?” Domhnall replied doubtfully. “I dinnae ken, Kai. She’s a feisty one. I was forced tae agree tae this marriage tae save the clan from further attacks, but at the time, I assumed I was tae marry a subdued English lady. This woman doesnae fit that picture at all.”

“Has it occurred tae ye that she might be as angry at this union as ye are?” Kai said. “Enya said it earlier, and I cannae disagree with her. Lady de Beaumont has been torn from everything she’s ever kent. Sent here against her will. Ye ken she willnae have had any say in the matter.”

“Then perhaps she ought tae be taking her anger out on the people who sent her here, and nae me.”

“Well, from what I heard, she has a lot o’ animosity against ye. Did ye really kill her faither?” Kai frowned.

Domhnall shook his head. “If I did, I’m nae aware o’ it. And surely, I would be. Like I told her, a nobleman would be obvious in battle. In his dress, the horse he rode, his demeanor. Surely, I would ken. But I dinnae.”

“Then where has she come up with such a notion?” Kai asked.

“Her braither, or so she told me.”

Kai fell silent, and the two sat there, staring into the fire, clearly contemplating their own thoughts.

After a while, Kai turned to Domhnall and said, “I ken this situation isnae what ye want, Domhnall, but it cannae carry on like this. Lady de Beaumont is tae be yer wife.”

“Tell me something I dinnae ken,” Domhnall growled sarcastically.

“Ye have tae promise me that ye’ll spend more time with her.”

Domhnall turned and stared at his brother.

“I mean it, Domhnall. Swear tae me.”

Taking a huge breath in, Domhnall eventually nodded. “Fine.”

Kai then leaned forward, placing his hand on Domhnall’s arm. Immediately, Domhnall felt a calmness wash over him. He hated Kai manipulating his feelings, but under the circumstances, he knew it was necessary. He had to get through this one way or another, and if Kai bringing him some peace was what it was going to take, he really had no choice but to go along with it.