Chapter Two
As Maisie Campbell stood in the little chapel of St. Benedict’s Abbey before the old monk and the rough-looking guard, a sense of importance and pride filled her chest. It was a feeling she’d never experienced in her life.
“Ye said Laird Campbell sent ye with a letter for us?” the monk asked.
A blush heated Maisie’s neck and chest, and she quickly reached into the folds of her damp cloak for the missive with which her brother had entrusted her. Her. Not a guard, but her . Brody had said she’d shown time and again that she could be counted upon, and he needed someone to deliver this missive exactly as instructed. Of course, Brody himself would have gone, but being laird of their clan kept him incredibly busy.
Laird. Her brother was laird. It still didn’t seem real some days, and today was one such day. After almost two years since their father’s death, she would have thought it would seem real every day, and yet, it didn’t.
“Lady Campbell?”
“I beg yer pardon,” she quickly replied. “It seems the journey here has left me muddle-headed.” She held the sealed missive out to Bernard Campbell, and when he took it, a sense of completion descended upon her. As he broke the seal with the monk looking on, she allowed her mind to wander for a moment. She’d completed her mission: Deliver the missive to Bernard himself, her brother had instructed. The abbot of Inverie, Father Atholl, will want to read it, and that’s fine, but Bernard must read it first. She wondered if her brother would trust her with another mission after this. She hoped so. She’d always longed to serve her dear papa as her brother had, but he’d staunchly refused, saying she was too precious to him to risk on a mission. But her brother was laird now, and he’d come to her.
Bernard handed the missive to the monk beside him, who began to read it as Bernard settled his gaze on her. Something in the man’s eyes disquieted her, though she wasn’t entirely certain what. There was a lack of warmth there, she thought. Though, to be fair, she’d just met the man.
“The weather is too foul for ye to return home tonight,” he said.
She nodded, thinking upon how rough the seas had been on the journey here and how hard the rain had been driving down upon their arrival as well as the forceful winds.
“I’ll have one of the monks prepare a bedchamber for ye, and ye can sup with us or take yer meal in yer room, as ye please.”
“I’ll dine with ye,” she replied, her natural curiosity, which had gotten her into a fair amount of trouble in the past, surfacing.
“As ye wish,” Bernard said, sounding as if nothing would please him less. She frowned at that. “Would ye mind awaiting us just outside the door for a moment? We’ve a pressing matter to discuss, but then I’ll escort ye to the great hall myself.”
Irritation flitted through her. If one of the Campbell guards had delivered the missive, she felt certain they would not have been asked to leave the room. But she was a mere woman, and most men seemed to think her sex was either too senseless or too delicate for important matters. It wouldn’t do to argue, though. She wanted only good reports to go to her brother, so she nodded and departed the room.
The minute the door closed and she was left in the shadowy passageway, voices rose from inside, and the tension was unmistakable in the curt, fast words. She bit her lip, looked both ways to ensure there were no monks about that might see her eavesdropping, and stepped closer to the door and pressed her ear, as well as her palms, to the thick, dark wood.
“I am a man of God,” Father Atholl said. His voice shook as he spoke.
A derisive snort came from Bernard. “Hardly, Atholl.” Maisie frowned at that, but had no time to contemplate it further, as Bernard said, “Do I need to remind ye that—”
“Nay,” the monk interrupted. “Ye need nae remind me.” The savageness in his tone parted her lips in surprise. For some reason, she’d pictured monks to be men who never got roused to anger.
“Excellent,” Bernard said. “Then we’ll settle the lass to supper, ye can entertain her and keep her in the great hall, and I’ll fulfill my laird’s orders and finally leave this place.”
“I’ll do as ye say,” Father Atholl replied, “because I dunnae have a choice.”
“Bah, old man, ye lie to yerself. There’s a choice. Let the truth come out. Ye just dunnae like the consequences it will bring ye, so ye make another choice. Hide yer truth, live the lie, look the other way.”
“Ye’re godless!” Father Atholl shouted.
A shuffle commenced, followed by what sounded like a body hitting the floor. Maisie gasped, glancing around to see if the noise would bring anyone and if she needed to spring away from the door, but when no one came, she pressed her ear to the door once more.
“Everything I’ve done, I’ve done in the name of service to the laird I took a life vow to. Ye, monk, kinnae say the same. Ye broke the vows ye took, so I’d say mayhap ’tis ye who is godless.”
Whatever might have been said next was drowned out suddenly by a succession of horns being blown. Maisie did scamper away from the door then, and just in time. It was thrown open with such force it swished as it swung wide and banged against the wall as Bernard stormed through it. He strode past her, sword out, and down the hall toward the door he’d brought her through a short while ago.
“Bernard, what’s happening?” she called to his back, her curiosity too strong to resist.
He swung open the door to the inner courtyard with the same force as he had the chapel door, then paused to turn to her. “Nae anything ye need be concerned about. Ye’re safe. Ye can stay with the monk.”
“I’m coming with ye,” Father Atholl said as he exited the chapel and paused beside her. Blood ran from a gash on his forehead that must have resulted from the confrontation with Bernard. “Ye can wait in the chapel, Lady Campbell. We’ll return shortly.”
The monk didn’t give her time to agree or disagree. He rushed past her and toward the same door that Bernard had disappeared through, leaving it wide open behind him. Monks rushed around the courtyard almost as if under attack. Her heartbeat skipped at that. Were monasteries attacked? Well, she certainly wasn’t going to sit around here and wait to find out. She raced toward the door the men had gone through and nearly collided with a monk coming through.
“What’s happening?” she asked as the man caught her by her elbow to steady her. “Are we under attack?”
“Nay, my lady. The prisoners escaped.”
“Prisoners?” She frowned. “Monasteries have prisoners?”
“I dunnae ken about others, but this one has two.”
“Who are these prisoners?” she asked, but before the monk could answer, a shrill scream filled the night. Maisie glanced in the direction of the scream, and at first, she only saw two bobbing torches against the stormy sky, but within a breath, Bernard became clearly visible, as well as Father Atholl and another man she had not met. The monk carried two torches and walked slightly in front of Bernard, who, to Maisie’s utter shock, was dragging a man behind him by the ankle. His body bounced over the ground as he tried and failed to find something to grab to stop Bernard’s progression. The man was large, much larger than Bernard. It was wonderous that Bernard could drag the Highland beast at all, except she supposed much of his weight was on the ground, which made things easier for Bernard.
Behind Bernard strode another man Maisie had yet to meet. He was dragging a silver-haired slip of a woman behind him in the same fashion Bernard was moving the man. Maisie watched in horror as both the man and woman were hauled to the flogging post and yanked upright. Then the man’s shirt was ripped off to expose a back that made Maisie recoil in shock. Scars, which could only have been created by a lashing, crisscrossed the man’s broad, powerful back and disappeared beneath his braies, which clung to slim hips.
Her hand fluttered to her neck, and she swallowed, imagining the pain this man must have endured from these floggings. What had he done to deserve such punishment?
“Dunnae flog her, Bernard!” the man bellowed, even as Bernard yanked the scarred stranger’s hands around the flogging post and in front of him to bind him. The rain came down harder, and thunder resounded in the distance.
“I’ll be flogging ye both to death!” Bernard snarled. “And she’ll be first so ye can watch!”
The bound man roared as he yanked on his arms to no avail, while lightning cracked the sky and the rain poured down. Still, he’d screamed so loud, it was likely heard in the heavens, the sound inhuman in its pain and unlike anything Maisie had ever heard. “Kill me but nae her. She dunnae need to die. She’s but an old woman.”
“She’ll be dying because she kens ye were here!”
“Ye’re a treacherous, godless, heartless man!” the older woman bellowed one breath before the guard handling her ripped the back of her gown in half to expose unscarred pale skin. “Mark my words,” the woman screeched as she was bound exactly as her companion had been. “Ye can lash me to the death, but I’ll come back to haunt ye.”
Bernard had raised his arm as if to strike the woman, but he paused, and Maisie found herself holding her breath with hope that he had changed his mind. Surely, he would not kill a woman. But in the next moment, the whip came forward, connected with her back with a loud thwack, and the woman arched forward with a howl. Blood immediately appeared from shoulder to hip where the leather had split her skin in two.
“I’ll kill ye!” the scarred man bellowed, and Maisie, heart pounding, ears roaring, was running toward the scene in the middle of the courtyard. Behind her, the monk who’d steadied her before yelled at her to stop, but she only increased her speed, knowing she could easily outrun him. She was fast, with long legs that made up the greatest part of her height, and if she’d not had on this dratted gown, she’d have been faster.
Heads swiveled to look her way one by one until everyone was staring at her as she came to a shuttering stop in front of Bernard and Father Atholl. Her attention should have landed on them, for those were the two she needed to plead with, but instead, her gaze went to the man. Her lips parted and cool air caressed her teeth and tongue.
She’d never seen such a man. His light brown hair was shorn very close to his head but spiked up slightly in the middle as if he’d nervously scrubbed a hand through his hair repeatedly. He had a beard, also cut very close to the skin, that covered his chin, his jaw, part of his cheeks, and above his full lips. He had a hard look about him, from his cold green eyes to the jagged scar that ran down the right side of his face. But somehow, he was ruggedly compelling.
“My lady,” Bernard said, “ye need to return inside.”
She pulled her gaze from the man to Bernard. “Ye kinnae kill a woman. Or this man, for that matter, without a proper judgment.”
“We’ve—” Father Atholl started, but Bernard shook his head at the monk.
“Ye dunnae ken what they’ve done,” Bernard said.
“We’ve nae done anything,” the man said, his tone seething and rumbling from deep within his chest. “Laird—” Before he could finish the sentence, Bernard lashed the man across the face, leaving a bloody trail across his left cheekbone. He didn’t flinch, but she did.
Without thought, she grabbed Bernard’s arm, and he backhanded her, sending her sprawling to her bottom with a hard thud. Pain immediately pooled in her bottom and her lip, and tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision. When she blinked, Bernard and Father Atholl were there.
“My lady, I’m sorry,” Bernard said, his voice fearful, and she understood why. Her brother was his laird, and he’d just hit her. She believed it had been reflexive, but she saw an immediate way to possibly save the prisoners.
“Yer laird will nae be pleased,” she said, using her best haughty tone as she took Father Atholl’s outstretched hand, and he aided her to her feet. She touched a finger to her lip, and when she pulled her hand back, the tip of her finger was covered with blood. She took a handful of her skirts and brought up the edge to dab at the blood on her lip. Water sprayed her ankles immediately as the wind blew the rain sideways. She dropped her skirts, realizing she’d exposed more than she’d intended to, and when she looked up, she found the stranger dragging his gaze from her ankles. A surprising blush heated her cheeks, and she saw his eyebrows quirk up before he jerked his gaze away.
“My lady, I think it best if we keep this unfortunate incident between us,” Bernard said.
She pressed her lips together and stood silent to let him squirm. She could feel the older woman’s gaze upon her, and she caught it for a moment before the woman looked away as her companion had. Maisie pushed her wet hair off her forehead and resisted the urge to ring it out. It would be useless as the rain still poured down. “I’ll keep ye hitting me to myself, but ye must vow nae to kill these two.”
“Why do ye champion strangers?” the priest demanded, his tone angry.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Dunnae yer god teach forgiveness? Surely, even the most sinful of creatures deserves a second chance?”
“My lady,” Father Atholl began, but Bernard held a hand up.
“Ye’re right, my lady. Rest assured, I give my word that we will nae kill them without a fair hearing and judgment.”
She wasn’t certain she could believe Bernard, so she said, “I will tell yer laird that ye are keeping prisoners here and to look into this matter, so ye best be certain ye do give a fair hearing and judgment.”
Bernard and Father Atholl exchanged a look before they both said, “Aye.”
“Now, go on inside, my lady,” Bernard said, “afore ye catch a chill.”
“Are ye nae going to take them to a cell to await their hearing?”
“Of course,” he replied, to which the woman cackled.
“Ye’re a fool,” she said, looking directly at Maisie. “These men dunnae have a sliver of honor in their bodies. We’ll be dead by nightfall.”
Just then lightning struck again, but this time, it hit the chapel door, splitting it wide and setting the building on fire. Before Maisie knew what was happening, she was being propelled forward by Father Atholl toward the outer courtyard and away from the chaos and flames. She looked behind her as he guided her, and to her relief, both the man and the woman were untied and led toward stairs that disappeared to a level below the courtyard, which Maisie supposed had to be the dungeon.