Chapter Nineteen

“What did ye find out?” Graeme demanded of Eppie before she’d fully reached the dais where he was sitting with Grace.

“’Tis as I suspected. The kitchen lasses, as well as the upstairs chambermaids and the men assigned to bring the wood and the washing water to her room, all decided to make living hell here for her.”

“Dammit!” Graeme cursed, rising out of his seat. It had been torture not to seek out Maisie out, but he’d succeeded in giving them both space to fight the pull between them. He’d checked on her once, after he was certain she’d not be in the kitchens, and he’d taken Sasha’s word that everything with Maisie was fine. He should have known better. She’d not come to supper once in five days, but he’d been relieved not to have to sit there fighting against the feelings that made him want to know her, touch her, possibly even believe in her.

“I’ll come with ye,” Grace said as he made his way down the dais. “I should have been here and seen to the clan treating her with respect.”

“Nay.” Eppie glared at him before he could respond to Grace. “They took their lead from Graeme, just as I told ye they would! She’s apparently been working herself to the bone all week to make the lasses in the kitchens accept her, and tonight, they put bugs in her food! Yer need for vengeance has made ye hard, Graeme,” Eppie said, wagging her finger in his face. “Ye have been so busy striving to keep a distance between ye that ye have let those in our clan treat her horribly.”

“Aye,” he said, as shame burned him. “Ye’re right, but I’ll find her now, and I’ll keep a better watch and ensure she’s treated with respect.” He’d have to do that while keeping a hold on his desire for her.

“Do ye ken where she went?” he asked Eppie.

“Sasha says one of the lasses saw her head out of the castle. By the looks of her, and given we now ken she did nae have any washing water all week, mayhap she headed to the loch.”

“I’ll check there,” he said, already moving that way. “Will ye check her bedchamber?”

“Aye,” Eppie responded.

“I’ll go check with the priest, Father Ollie,” Grace said, “and make certain she did nae go to him to seek out a friendly face.”

Graeme’s jaw clenched as he strode away, consumed by his need to protect her. It was ridiculous. No one in the clan would dare harm her. But as thoughts of their disdain toward her flashed through his mind, doubt took hold and pushed him into a sprint down the dark passage that led outside. Bursting into the courtyard, he scanned for any sign of her before taking off for the loch. His feet pounded against the unforgiving ground, every step fueled by fear and adrenaline coursing through his veins in icy waves.

The smell of saltwater flooded Graeme’s nostrils, signaling his proximity to the sea. suddenly, a piercing scream shattered the calm of the night, sending birds scattering in terror and unleashing a surge of panic through his body. He sprinted down the rocky path with such haste that he lost his footing and skidded down the last stretch of the hill to the beach. In the moonlight, a large figure loomed over a smaller one, Maisie, who was screaming and struggling for her life.

Sheer black anger erupted within Graeme, so hot his veins burned as his blood surged through them. With a roar, he closed the distance between him and Maisie and ripped the man who had her pinned to the ground off her. The man went rolling, but before he could gain his feet, Graeme was on him and flipping the man over so he could beat him as he richly deserved. He drew his fists back, the red haze of his anger receding enough that it finally registered that the man attacking Maisie was Finlay.

“God’s blood!” Graeme swore, anger swirling with astonishment and shame, for Finlay’s feelings toward the Campbells were not so far from Graeme’s own. And then he let his fists fly. Bone crunched beneath his knuckles, and a cracking sound filled the air. Finlay let out a howl, but Graeme did not stop. He hit him again and again, until someone pulled on his arm.

Maisie’s pleading cut through his rage. “Stop it! Stop it! Ye’ll kill him, and he’s nae worth that sin on yer soul!”

His eyes met hers, and seeing the tears flowing down her cheeks and over her swollen, bloody lip, he let out another roar, this one filled with anguish. “Why?” he demanded of his cousin as he pulled off him, stood, and shoved his foot against Finlay’s chest.

Blood poured out of Finlay’s nose as he swiped a hand over his face, smearing it across his cheek. “Ye should ken better than any. Revenge.”

The word slammed into Graeme, and for the first time, he understood the consequences and danger of a consuming desire for retribution. “Ye would ravage Maisie for vengeance?” he asked, each word feeling as if it was ripped from the depths of his broken soul.

“Aye. Blood for blood. Body for body. Sin for sin. Her innocence, if she even is innocent, for my brother and da’s life. I’m surprised ye have nae done the same.”

It was too much, and Graeme lunged for him again. But Maisie started screaming. It was a horrible, blood-curdling sound. He turned in time to see her drop to her knees, pulling at her hair.

“Enough, enough, enough. I want to leave. I want to leave.” She rocked back and forth, arms covering her head, gown tattered. And as he stared in shock, he understood he’d done this.

“Graeme!”

He looked up the trail to see torches bobbing in the dark night, and then Eppie and Grace appeared with warriors behind them.

Graeme glanced to where Maisie was still rocking. He ripped off his plaid and settled it over her shoulders before lifting her from the ground, half expecting her to protest. When she didn’t, he wrapped his arms around her to hold her close to his chest. She let out a muffled cry, buried her head in his chest, and her hair fell over her face to disguise it. Regret and rage beat a strange tempo within him.

Finlay started to rise, and Graeme said, “If ye move, I will set her down and gut ye.”

His cousin lowered himself back to the ground as Eppie, Grace, and the warriors arrived. Eppie looked between Finlay and Maisie with wide, worried eyes.

“Take him to the dungeon,” Graeme said to his men. Without waiting for a response, he walked past the warriors, who were already moving to do his bidding, and he started up the path toward the castle, whispering soothing sounds to Maisie as she cried quietly. Word must have spread of her running out of the great hall because the courtyard was littered with the women from the kitchens, and near the door to the castle stood Sasha.

He passed her without a word, fearing what he might say before he could calm down. He made his way up the stairs to Maisie’s bedchamber. The air inside was frigid, as no fire burned in the grate, sparking a fresh wave of fierce anger in him. He lowered himself to the bed with her sitting on his lap, and ever so gently, he brushed back her hair, which revealed her swollen right cheek. He should have killed Finlay.

“Maisie, do ye wish for Eppie or the healer?” He didn’t know that she’d want him here. He didn’t even know what had happened.

She didn’t answer, so he carefully nudged her face toward him so he could see her eyes. They were filled with a fear that made his heart twist. “Did he hurt ye?” He winced at the question. Of course he had.

She frowned at him. “Aye... my lip and my cheek. And he tried—” She shuddered in his arms. “He was trying to take me, but...” She trailed off.

“But?”

Her green gaze found his. “But ye arrived just in time.”

The relief he felt was shocking. “Do ye want me to get the healer?”

“Nay!” The word was stark with terror. “Dunnae leave me. Ye must vow it! Yer clan hates me! Vow ye’ll nae leave me!” He could see her fear rising with each word.

“Shh, lass,” he said, running a soothing hand gently through her tangled hair. “I will nae leave yer side. I vow it.”

Without asking, he lifted her, pulled back the coverlet, and put her under it, tugging the covers to her chin. Beneath them, he could see the violent trembling of her body, so he secured another blanket from a chair and laid it on top of her. Then he quietly made his way to the door to find a chambermaid and issue commands, but there, outside Maisie’s room, stood Sasha.

He started to shut the door behind him, but Maisie called out, “Where are ye going?”

The tension in her voice made him ache. She didn’t feel safe without him here in her own bedchamber. “I’ll be right outside the door for a moment. Dunnae fash yerself.”

He stepped into the hall, shut the door, and narrowed his eyes at Sasha, who paled under his stare.

“I did nae ken he would do that,” she said, wringing her hands. “What will happen to him?”

“He will be banished from the clan,” Graeme said, matter-of-fact.

“And me and Mama?”

“I dunnae hold ye responsible for yer brother’s actions, but Eppie told me how the kitchen lasses have been treating Maisie, and—”

“I already spoke to them all and my mama. Maisie earned my respect this week, and I want ye to ken I did nae have anything to do with the bugs on her trencher tonight.”

He nodded. “I’ll be speaking to the clan as a whole, but for now, I want some things brought to Maisie’s room. Fresh wood, water, rushes—”

“And gowns?” she cut in.

“Gowns?” he repeated with a frown.

“Aye. Have ye nae noticed all her gowns have been slashed?”

He had not noticed, and the shame he felt about that burned in his chest. He’d noticed they seemed tattered, but he hadn’t looked closely enough, fearing the closer he looked, the harder she’d be to resist. “And gowns,” he finally said.

“I’ll see it done,” Sasha replied. “Will ye tell her I’m sorry?”

“Aye,” he added, turned away, and made his way back into the bedchamber.

He stood at the doorway and took her in as she slept. The coverlet was pulled up to her chin, and he could tell she was curled into a tight ball under the blankets. She murmured in her sleep, a distressed sound, and he went to her bedside, pulled up a chair, and ran a light touch over her forehead until she quieted. Everything in him raged for her and ached for her. He was responsible for the devastation of today. He wanted revenge against her brother but not at any price. He had ignored her and stayed away from her because he was drawn to her despite himself.

A soft knock at the door drew his attention and thoughts away from Maisie. “Enter,” he said.

Eppie walked slowly into the room and came to stand beside him. She set a hand on his shoulder. “I spoke with the lasses in the kitchen and the chambermaids and warned them that if they continue this behavior, they’ll answer to ye.”

He nodded, thinking suddenly on what Sasha had said about Maisie gaining her respect this week. “Did ye learn what Maisie has been doing all week?”

“Aye, she was digging beets every day in the gardens. At first without a pick, only her bare hands.”

He glanced at her right hand that was curled under her chin and saw that her nails were ripped and her skin chapped and cracked. He shook his head. “The lass was determined to win them.”

Eppie nodded. “Aye, and she had most of them. ’Twas yer aunt who put the bugs in Maisie’s trencher.”

That didn’t surprise Graeme. Finlay’s mother had lost a great deal because of Maisie’s father, but it was not Maisie’s fault, though they had all blamed her, including himself. “Do ye think I still need to concern myself with Lavina?”

“Nay. She was beside herself that Finlay had attacked Maisie and tried to ravage her. She was crying and begging forgiveness and saying she had only wanted to make Maisie miserable, nae injure her.”

Graeme nodded. “Keep an eye on her for me, aye?”

“Aye, of course, but what will ye be doing?”

“I’ll be here,” he replied, “until Maisie is all right to be alone again.”

“And yer plan to keep a divide between the two of ye?”

He didn’t answer at first. He studied Maisie’s face, which was sun-kissed, undoubtedly from all the time in the sun pulling beets. She had worked tirelessly to fit into his clan. She appeared fragile with her small stature and delicate bone structure, but she was a force. As her even breathing filled the silent room, he understood there was no choice now but to risk himself, and attempt to lower his guards and really know her, and to hope that when the time came, she would accept her brother’s guilt and choose loyalty to Graeme.