Chapter 2

2

M aeve muffled a low groan as her youngest sister's elbow unknowingly jabbed into her back while they sat on the settee in the drawing room. She knew she flushed beet red, but she could never admit her vibrant flush was caused by the pain in her back.

"Show me," Erin said to her friend Elizabeth again as she giggled in her usual fluttery tone. Her sounds made the afternoon less tiring for Maeve. It also made the pain in her back bearable.

"You can make a knot if you keep your finger still," Elizabeth Hampton explained in her breathless voice then showed Erin the embroidery knot again. Maeve tried not to arch her neck to stare at them.

Unlike the rest of the Hamptons, the Earl's daughter had been the kindest so far. Elizabeth's easy laugh and cheery mornings was the only reason Maeve and her sisters had survived this long in the English household.

Even after six years, she still hated the taste of English tea on her tongue and the squishing affect her corsets had on her. Maeve sat upright, her spine stiff because if she moved wrong, then the slicing pain eating through her might paralyze her spine.

I can't need the physician right now.

Requiring the physician's attention would only make the Earl livid, and the past few days had been peaceful because he was more focused on his preparations for the first ball of the season.

Sighing, Maeve turned to her second sister, Ayda, who was more focused on playing the pianoforte.

"How did I do?" Ayda asked, raising her head from the piano's keys to look at Maeve.

"Perfect," Maeve answered her.

"You think Lord Hampton will like it? He says I shall play for him tonight after supper. I do not want to annoy him anymore, Maeve. He already thinks I am no good at the pianoforte."

Maeve rose to her feet and set her embroidery aside to walk to Ayda. "Nonsense Ayda," she said, touching her sister's shoulder lightly. "I do not know anyone else who plays beautifully like you do."

Maeve lowered her lips to whisper in Ayda's ear, "Not even Madam Regina. Believe me, she is horrible at it."

Ayda snorted as a laugh escaped her lips, and she pressed her right palm over her mouth stylishly to muffle her sounds. Maeve loved that the joke about their instructor Madam Regina made her sister laugh.

Thinking about Lord Archibald and his wife made her temples ache every time.

Ayda resumed playing a faster tune, and Erin's giggles heightened, filling the room all at once. The sounds made Maeve's headache harder. The pounding in her temples also increased with her growing flush, and she lowered herself to the settee again.

She had hoped her morning tea would help ease the pain in her joints, but it didn't. Now Maeve had to endure and pretend that she didn't feel the jabbing pain in her back each time she tried to breathe.

Maeve still reeled from her pain when the sudden tinkle of a bell in the distance cut through the tune Ayda played. Neither of the three sisters moved as the bell rang for a few more seconds.

Maeve tried not to feel any excitement because every time the bell rang in the past six years, it meant her brother had come for them. But yet he could never rescue us.

"We must move," Elizabeth spoke first after the long pause had passed. Elizabeth picked up the skirts of her dress and began walking towards the door. "I have to go," she continued in a rushed tone, her cheeks gaining a rose-colored flush. "Bye Erin; Bye Ayda."

The moment Elizabeth hurried out, Maeve spun into action.

"Ayda, Erin to the wine cellar, now," she ordered in a shaky tone, ignoring her pain and the pounding ache in her head. It was the same every time the bell was rung in the past six years.

Maeve had to hide in the wine cellar with her sisters while Elizabeth found the rest of her family and stayed safe with them.

Maeve led her sisters down the hallway as the servants scurried around the place, all trying to get to safety. They reached the back stairway leading to the cellar, and Ayda hurried down the stairs first, holding Erin's hands tight.

"Miss," a voice thundered before Maeve could join them down the stairs, "the Lord wants to speak with you right now."

She turned to see the butler standing behind her, his feet widely spread apart, and his chin drawn into a thin line. "Right now," he ordered again, sending a chill down Maeve's spine as she met his dark eyes.

At first, she had dreaded the Earl's call each time her brother came for them. On those days, he would make sure she faced the wrath of his anger once her brother failed and returned home.

"Maeve?" Ayda called in a shaky voice, and Maeve saw her teary eyes when she turned to her.

"It is all right," she said, mustering up a courageous smile. "Go down to the cellar, and I shall meet you there once I finish with the Earl." Her sister's hesitated, so she rushed down three stairs to get to them, smacked a kiss on their foreheads, then nudged them forward.

"Go on. Do not worry about me…Go on."

Ayda and Erin ran the rest of the way before Maeve turned to the butler again. "Where does My Lord need me?"

"His study."

Maeve drew in a staggering breath and stilled her quivering insides before she began the walk to the Earl's office.

Archibald Hampton sat behind his table when she entered, and he did not look up from the paper he held. She walked closer to his table slowly, keeping her chin straight like a proper lady would and making sure to not meet his eyes when he finally looked up.

"Your brother is here again," Archibald spat at her, and his heavy words echoed around his office before he barked out a short laugh and rose to his feet. "This time he wants to speak to me. Can you imagine what he must have to say? Perhaps he is here to plead for mercy?"

Maeve stayed silent, just as was expected of her. A lady should never speak when Her Lord speaks. She chanted those words in her mind while keeping her head bowed.

When Archibald walked around his table to get to her, she felt her knees tremble with the rattling force of her fear. The sour stench of his breath fell against her face when he leaned close to whisper in her ears, "Why do you think he is here?"

Maeve still said nothing, so he barked in ear, "Speak."

"I do not know, My Lord," she stuttered, cringing when he panted next to her. "I do not know why he is here."

"Will you leave with him if he demands it?"

"A lady never runs away from her home," Maeve responded instinctively. The words fell out of her lips as she squeezed her right hand into a tight fist by her side. "It is improper to leave with a stranger. This is my home."

"Good," he said in a calmer tone now then stroked a finger down her cheek. Maeve flinched at his touch and felt the bite of nausea camped down in the pit of her stomach. She hated Archibald's touch more than the feel of his breath on her face.

Battling her nausea, Maeve pressed her lips together with a light whimper and willed herself to stay still till he finally drew away from her.

Archibald adjusted his tunic. "I shall find out what the stranger wants. You stay right here till get back."

Maeve did not miss the smirk on his lips as he turned and marched out of his office. A crumbling breath whooshed out of her once the door thudded close behind him. She closed her eyes tight, heaved out long, deep breaths, and sniffed as a warm sob slid down her cheek.

Flynn, she called out in her mind, wishing her brother could hear her cries. Maeve gathered her strength and headed for the study's window. She peered outside as tears blurred her vision, hoping to catch a glimpse of Flynn.

The door suddenly flung open again, and Maeve twirled around. A shriek tore out of her as a man stormed into the room, a bloodied sword wound tightly in one hand.

"Are ye Maeve?" he growled; the broad movement of his chest surged with the storm of his breaths.

Hearing the Scottish accent made a hefty wave of brief relief flood Maeve's nerves. Her breath quickened, and her eyes widened. "Did my brother send you?" she breathed, shaking violently both from relief and fear as her gaze swept over the strange Highlander. His kilt was ripped at the hem, and a large cut gushed with blood on his exposed thigh.

Maeve first noticed his eyes. They were flecks of glittering green that held a fierceness. His black unruly hair flowed to his shoulders and framed his face, masking his other features. He is like an angel, Maeve thought as a different kind of chill rushed through her.

An angel of death.

The Highlander swiped a hand over his mouth before he glided towards her with swift strides. "Wait, are you…"

He swept her off the ground and hurdled her over his shoulder before the words were out of her lips. Maeve's stomach immediately pressed into their hardened planes, and she whimpered from the impact. Her corset clung tighter around her, cinching her waist till air cut short from her lungs.

"I am nae messenger, lass," the Highlander breathed out as he marched out of the office.