My Highland Home

MHH Chapter 27

"It's about damned time Angus!"

The loud, obnoxious tone was the second thing that greeted us as we slowly made our way deeper into the pile of precariously piled rocks that passed as the McDowell Keep. Sadly, the sad disrepair of the place was obliterated by the filth and stink that seemed to fill every nook and cranny and more importantly immediately assaulted ones senses the instant you stepped inside. I'm not certain what you would call someone that had no sense of smell, and while normally I might feel a certain amount of pity for someone who was afflicted so, right about now I wouldn't mind suffering from it. Hobbling along awkwardly clutching Angus, my free hand rose to cover my nose and mouth. The stench was a truly noxious mixture of body odours, rotting food, mildew and something so horrid I couldn't define it.

I was quite aware that I would have to burn my slippers, because no amount of cleaning would be able to get rid of whatever squelched beneath the soles with my every step. Now, I thought, would be a good time to never have to breathe again. Heaven forbid, someone ever decide to light a match, as the place would likely go up like it was doused in gasoline. The horror of my new surroundings brought hopeful and fervent prayers for rescue. Surely by now Colin had to realize that I was missing? Angus and the other man had seemed only to be interested in me and hadn't seemed to give the children a second thought back at the clearing. Gavin and Jinty should've returned to the keep and raised the alarm by now.

Unless, my heart drooped a bit at the sudden thought, Colin didn't care enough to come for me. My traitorous heart chimed in, reminding me that he hadn't ever said he loved me, or even liked me for that matter, despite the fact that he seemed to take comfort in my body every night in our bed. During the day, he went his way to attend to his duties and I went mine to care for his daughter. My voice, while an octave lower and huskier than I remember it, had returned several weeks ago; yet we had actually said little to each other. It seemed that after my first garbled attempts to answer, Colin had lost interest in questioning me. It was a bit of a blow to realize perhaps my happiness had been blind.

"There she is, my daughter come home at long last!"

I pulled myself back from a now battered place within and raised my chin. Unkempt, dirty and posed like he was the cock of the walk, the boisterous speaker stood before a rudely crafted throne. His arms were beefy, more with fat than muscle and spread widely apart. His face was covered with matted, springy red hair, hiding beneath the furry caterpillars of his eyebrows peeked two small piggy eyes. The clothing he wore was in marginally better shape than the collection of men that littered the hall. I stood a mere inch or two shorter than the man, although much of his height was in his torso.

So, this was the man that Colin thought was my father. This was Laird McDowell. The reason I had been called an animal, a heathen and other various insults, staring at him I felt nothing but loathing. Colin's people distrusted me because of my supposed connection to this man, but it didn't keep them from curbing their tongues in my presence. In the two months since my marriage, several of the McLaren clan had made it their mission to remind me of this man's transgressions against them; raping young women, killing unarmed boys, stealing whatever they could cart away and burning whatever they couldn't. I felt pity for this man's real daughter, wherever she was.

Laird McDowell approached me slowly. Something about his face was calculating and sly, whatever it was made me brace for the worst. One of his hands lifted and he trailed thick, sausage like fingers along my jaw for the briefest moment before I pointedly jerked my face away and with it my gaze. I already felt as though I needed a bath, with his touch I now felt that I had to scrub whatever filth he might have transferred away before it somehow contaminated me further. The slap was unexpected and I gasped as I instinctively put weight on my left ankle. I tasted blood in my mouth, the muscles in Angus' back tensed beneath my arm.

"LOOK AT ME!" I flinched at the roar and cringed at the spittle that flew. Lifting my eyes to glare at the McDowell, I did look at him with every ounce of defiance I could muster. I don't know why I did it, but it was like I was daring him to slap me again. Every red hair on the Lairds head seemed to be vibrating and his little piggy eyes were roving over my face. Was this it? Was this the moment when he realized that I was not his daughter?

"As unexceptional as her mother might have been, I recall enough of her countenance and colouring among all her crying, to tell you that this is not my daughter Angus!"

Angus' name ended on a growl filled with pure fury. I suspect that Angus had been prepared for such a reaction, as I found myself flung aside. My howl of agony as I collided with a bench and then the floor was lost in the rabid sounds of the Lairds' displeasure and the sounds of fists meeting flesh. I was a bit preoccupied with the fresh waves of pain that were radiating from my ankle, to see how Angus was fairing. A slender, fair haired man, who shared the untamed look of the others, although he stood apart, as he looked clean in comparison, separated himself from the others. He spared a worried glance in the direction of the fight, but hurried to my side and knelt. He laid a cool, calming hand to my brow and helped me to sit up. His fingers gently probed my split lip and his dark gaze took note of the ankle I cradled in one hand.

His anger vented, the Laird pushed himself off of a softly moaning Angus. He stalked back in the direction of his throne, only pausing long enough to snatch a cup out of the hands of one of his men. Throwing himself into the seat in the manner of a petulant child, he drank thirstily from the cup, emptying it before dropping it on the rushes beside it. The swollen fingers of both hands clenched the arms of his chair for long moments before he would ball them into fists and pound on the tops. The rest of the men in the hall returned their attention to their plates backs hunched and feigning disinterest in their surroundings. The slender man at my side, shifted, it was almost as if he were trying to make himself smaller, but he didn't move from my side. Although from his periodic glances in Angus' direction, I could tell he wanted to be else where. I couldn't blame him, if I had my way I'd be else where as well.

This strange, almost staged pause went on for ten, maybe fifteen minutes, the tension and trepidation in the space growing. My fate was being decided, I knew it without having to be told. I knew I should be scared. I knew that a part of me should be praying for whatever forces that brought me here to return me from whence I came. Instead, all I could do was stare at the face of my judge with a sense of finality pooling in my gut. This was it, I told myself. I had had two wonderful months with a man that I, heaven help me, had fallen in love with. I had spent every one of those days with a daughter that was mine in all ways but one. That was all I could ask for, wasn't it?

My heart was lodged in my throat and only pure determination kept the tears prickling at my eyes back. Acid rolled in my stomach. It was that simple motion that drew my attention. At some point subconsciously my left palm had come to rest over my abdomen, the place where I so recently had realized Colin's child now slept. Sucking in a breath, now I prayed.

"Take her to my daughter's chamber, a guard posted outside the door at all times. She might not be McKenna, but McLaren seems to think she is. We'll send a ransom, a hefty one! Get that other piece of offal out of my hall."

The edict from the McDowell Laird was emotionless, although greed was plainly identifiable in his eyes as he spared me a second glance. The relief I felt knowing my life was spared momentarily overshadowed my dismay at the ransom. The little doubts weren't whispering in the background anymore, they were screaming and making all sorts of ruckus. A strong hand beneath my elbow distracted me; the slender man beside me was trying to help me to my feet. My inner turmoil would have to wait a bit, I decided, likely I'd have plenty of time to mull it all over while waiting for this ransom business to conclude. Right now it was time to breath a bit easier, heal and protect my unborn child no matter what the cost.