Chapter 16

16

A rchie McTavish had decided not to interrogate the prisoners for a few days as part of his intimidation tactics. He would starve them and let them stew for a while until they were so desperate for food that they would spill whatever information they had in order to be fed. He hated the messy instruments of torture and only used them as a last resort since the sight of blood and cries of pain sickened him. However, he needed to know if there were any other rebels in the area, where they were, and their number. He did not want his men to be fighting more running battles like the ones they had done the previous night.

Keira had had a restless, sleepless night fretting and worrying about Murdoch, wondering if the rebels were mistreating him. Of course, they were now apparently on the same side, but Murdoch still had many questions to answer before the rebels would trust him. He had been Captain of the Guard before he had been one of them, and for all they knew this could be some devious strategy to spy on them.

Now, however, the laird, in his turn, was about to be subjected to an interrogation—by his daughter.

When Keira stormed into the dining room after lying awake tossing and turning for hours, she was raging. She found her father and Adaira eating breakfast, her father with gusto, Adaira merely pushing food around her plate, looking pale and miserable.

They both looked up with surprise at her noisy entry, then the laird glared at her from under his brows.

"Good morning, Daughter," he growled. "You don't look pleased to see us."

"On the contrary, Father," Keira replied, smiling at Adaira, who smiled back. "I am very pleased to see Adaira, who is my friend as well as being my family. However, you—" she pointed to him and curled her lip in disgust—"are a piece of something I would rather scrape off my shoe, and I am ashamed to be your daughter."

The laird sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, frowning fiercely. "I see your manners have deserted you," he remarked drily. "What do you want, Keira?"

"Two things," Keira replied, before going around to her father's chair, where she looked down at him with contempt. "Where is the earl I am supposed to be marrying? And why did you arrest Murdoch Holmes?"

"Ah, the first is easy." Her father treated her to a smug smile, which made Keira want to smash her fist into his nose. "He confessed to being one of the rebels. In fact, he said he was the leader. Thomson and McCall told me after they arrested him. What is your second question?"

Of course, she had known the answer to the question about Murdoch, but she needed to assure her father that she was not involved in the matter.

"Where is the Earl of Champling?" Keira growled. "Am I not permitted to meet my betrothed?"

The laird looked at her for a moment, then threw his head back and laughed uproariously.

"There is no earl!" he told her, after a few moments, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. "He is a figment of my imagination, and no one knew that he did not exist until last night. I invented him, and I kept the secret to myself until it was time for the trap to be sprung. There is no earl, and the booty in his wagons is nothing more than pieces of wood and old farm tools. The earl is not dead; he was never born. And you, my daughter, will never be a countess."

He chuckled, but Keira ignored his last remark. She had never wanted to be a countess. She was astounded, and she sat down heavily on a chair before her legs gave way.

"Why did you do this?" she demanded, but even as she asked, she knew the answer.

"Because it was the only way to rid myself of those bandits!" the laird snarled as he thumped his fist on the table. "I could not care less who they kill, but I am tired of my wealth being plundered by these criminals." Then he smiled smugly at Keira. "And it worked, did it not? The day after tomorrow, I will begin to question them to find out where they have taken all the other goods they have stolen from me."

"Why the day after tomorrow?" Adaira asked suddenly. "Why not now?"

"Because after a few days of starvation, they will tell me anything I want to know," he answered, smiling as he swallowed another mouthful of ale.

Keira could feel her cheeks reddening with fury, and at that moment, she knew that if she had a sword in her hand, she would cheerfully have sliced her father's head off.

"Monster." Her voice was a throbbing snarl. "You are a child of the devil."

Adaira stood up beside Keira, her dark eyes glowing with rage. "I curse you," she said viciously. "And I curse the day I married you." She turned and gave Keira a little push. "Come, Sister, there is a very bad smell in here. It is the smell of evil."

She gave Laird Archie McTavish a venomous backward glance before they both walked out.

The laird sat alone for a while, then he stood up and swept every dish and cup from the floor so that they landed on the floor and splintered with a satisfying smash. He knew it would take the servants many hours to clear up the mess, but he was the laird, and he cared nothing about that. They all worked for him, after all.

His wife and his daughter were out of his control, and that made him as mad as a charging bull, but he had ways of reining them in again, and he looked forward to doing just that. Exercising his power over others was one of his favorite pastimes.

The rebels in the dungeons were eyeing Murdoch uncertainly. None of them spoke to him, so he sat in miserable silence while the men talked and even laughed amongst themselves. Even in a grim place like a jail, there was solace in companionship, but he was excluded. None of them even wanted to look in his direction.

There was not even the comfort of food and drink since they had been given neither a scrap of bread nor a sip of water since they arrived. There were six men crowded into Murdoch's cell, and none of them smelled very good, but that was the least of his worries. His biggest problem was survival since he had no idea if or when the rebels were going to turn on him.

He was curled in the corner of the cell the next day, his stomach rumbling with hunger and his throat burning with thirst, when he heard a familiar voice calling his name.

"Captain Murdoch Holmes!" it cried.

"Dougie!" he said in amazement as he sat up and rubbed his eyes, then smiled with delight. "What are ye doin' here?"

Dougie grinned. "Came tae see how ye were farin'," he answered. He looked around at the pale faces around him, then back at his friend. "No' sae good, it seems."

"The laird has not given us food or drink since we arrived here," Murdoch informed him.

Dougie looked shocked for a moment, then smiled. "I will fix that," he said. Then he looked puzzled. "Why did ye say that ye were one o' the gang, Murdoch?"

Murdoch sighed, passing a hand over his eyes. "Because these are not wicked people, Dougie," he replied. "They are working to change things for themselves and their families. Keira and Adaira are helping them, and now I am too. I consider it a noble cause."

Dougie stared at him for a moment, then slowly nodded. "I will see ye have enough tae eat an' drink, but ye must give me a wee while. Ye have a staunch ally in the cook. She thinks ye are the handsomest man she has ever seen!" He wiggled his eyebrows mischievously, then smiled. "Stay strong, old pal."

"Just one more thing," Murdoch said, reaching between the bars to grab his arm. "Take care of Keira, please. She…she is precious to me." He looked away, embarrassed.

The two men looked at each other for a moment before Dougie nodded. "I will," he promised. "She and Adaira spend most o' their time taegether now, an' I have given Adaira a dagger for her protection. It will no' surprise ye tae know that Keira already had one."

"Thank you, my friend," Murdoch replied. "You never let me down."

Dougie smiled and turned away. When he had gone, one of the rebels, Gerry McKinlay, came up to Murdoch and looked him steadily in the eyes.

"Are ye one of us?" he asked incredulously.

"I have not always been," Murdoch admitted, "but since I came to know Mistress McTavish and Lady Adaira, I have been drifting toward you. When I saw the laird last night and realized what he was doing, I wanted to be one of you, then when Keira was being threatened, I knew I had no choice."

"Ye care for her, then?" Alastair Grimes asked, frowning. "For we wilnae tolerate anybody that takes against our Keira. She is a fine woman."

"I will not disagree with you," Murdoch said, smiling.

"Are ye in love wi' her?" Gerry asked curiously, and there was a murmuring of inquiry from around him.

Murdoch felt himself flushing. "I suppose I am," he admitted.

"Well, a' I can say is good choice," Liam Robertson added, chuckling. He thrust out a hand to Murdoch, giving him a gap-toothed smile. "If I wasnae married an' she would gie an eejit like me the time o' day, I would marry her mysel'."

Murdoch laughed, and a moment later all the men had stepped forward to take his hand and hear about his life and his family, and he listened to their stories too, feeling like a part of them at last.

Presently Dougie came back with three laden trays of food and several flasks of ale in his hands. He opened the cell door and began to distribute the food, which was dived on by the men in the cell and divided out until everyone had their share. While they were comfortably stuffing themselves with bannocks, cheese, fruit, and dried meat, Murdoch asked, "How did you get past the jailers with this lot?" He indicated the foodstuffs and looked at his friend, puzzled.

"Ye have more friends than ye think," Dougie replied. "Two o' the guards were happy tae let it in. Ye know big Billy Donnelly? He is the cook's son, an' his mother is no' fond o' the laird, an' neither is he. So when I asked her for a few bits an' pieces for ye to eat, she was overjoyed.

"I told her that she might lose her job if the laird found out, but she said she didnae care since Laird an' Lady Montrose have offered her a position at Castle Muldstane. They said they had eaten her duck pie an' say it's the best they ever tasted. Anyhow, Billy darenae go against his mother's wishes. She is a bit o' a dragon! So here ye are."

He smiled at his friend, watching Murdoch quaffing his ale as though it was the last he would ever taste.

"How is Keira?" Murdoch asked anxiously.

"She is well, but I think she is very worried about ye," Dougie replied. "Adaira is too."

"Oh?" Murdoch asked mischievously. "‘Adaira,' is it? Not ‘milady'?"

Dougie's fair skin flushed. "Aye," he whispered.

"How long has it been, Adaira?" Murdoch's voice was also a whisper.

"Since the first time we saw each other," Dougie replied, staring into Murdoch's eyes with a look that said everything. He and Adaira were lovers. Then he raised his voice. "Time to go. I have tae check the night watch now that I am Captain o' the Guard." He raised his voice. "I will try to get a message fae Keira tae all o' ye. I know she is concerned about ye a', an' she will help us in any way she can. Look after yerselves, boys, 'til we can get ye all out."

Dougie strode off down the corridor and disappeared, leaving Murdoch to look after him, smiling. He and Adaira were an ideal match, with only one thing standing in the way of their happiness: Laird Archie McTavish.