Page 79 of Sins of the Highlander

Elspeth lost count of the courses. There was a cock-a-leekie soup, smoked salmon, savory venison, and haggis. The Forfar bridies, a cunning pasty, must have been one of Rob’s favorites, because he wolfed down three of them in quick succession. And lastly, they were presented with a delicious crannachan, a concoction of raspberries, honey, oats, and whisky, mixing the sweet with an alcoholic tang.

The menu would have done credit to Queen Mary’s table.

But Rob didn’t speak to her more than necessary, and then with stilted courtesy. Instead, he leaned toward his friend Hamish, who was seated on his right, and spoke freely.

“I appreciate the welcome,” Rob said. “Our larder’s been thin during our travels, ye ken, but this seems a bit much seeing as how we’ve an army at the gate. I’d best have a word with the steward, so we dinna have a repeat on the morrow, or we’ll be in want by Hogmanay.”

“Och, let yer people rejoice,” Hamish said as he refilled his and Rob’s drinking horns with some of the oldest and smoothest whisky in Caisteal Dubh’s cellar. “They’ve been thrifty up till yer coming. We’ve had naught but parritch and barley bread and mutton stew. And mighty thin stew at that! But ye’re home now. Ye’ll end this trouble right enough.”

Elspeth tried to attend to her trencher, but she cocked an ear toward Rob’s conversation. How was he going to end the hostilities?

“I appreciate your confidence, Hamish, but since I willna meet their demand for my head, I dinna see how I can end the siege quickly.”

Hamish nearly spewed drink out his nose. “Och, Rob, I didna mean ye should offer them yer head. But ye’ve made yer point with Lord Drummond. ’Tis obvious ye’ve treated the lass well—something Drummond canna claim when he took yer lady. Ye’ve shamed the bastard. Just return the Lady Elspeth now, and all will be well.”

Elspeth stared into her soup bowl as if her future floated there among the leeks and bits of chicken.

“No, I willna,” Rob said. “I’ll no’ release her to the likes of Lachlan Drummond.”

Elspeth’s heart sang, but from the corner of her eye, she could tell Hamish wasn’t as happy as she with Rob’s words.

“If ye dinna, there’ll be war.”

“No, I’ll call for single combat to settle the matter. It’s come two years late, but it’s come now and welcome,” Rob said. “Drummond’s days are numbered. He’ll no’ be able to walk away from a challenge. Perhaps Fiona will rest easier once the deed’s done.”

Elspeth’s heart plummeted. He still intended to kill Lachlan. None of their time together had changed a thing. This was just about revenge for his dead wife.

A young girl with a cascade of golden curls spilling down her back took up a harp and began to sing. Rob seemed to enjoy the music as much as anyone, but Elspeth didn’t miss the sly looks the girl cast in his direction when the lyrics spoke of love.

Her song of longing was directed at Rob. Only a blind man would miss it. Elspeth couldn’t bear to remain in the hall for another moment. At the end of the third tune, she stood and asked to be excused.

“Ye dinna wish to retire yet.” Rob stood and took one of her hands. “The night is young. Margot Beaton is a talented singer, and she knows a hundred songs. Each of them lovelier than the last. I’m certain she’d take a request, if ye have a favorite.”

Elspeth didn’t think the girl would take a request from anyone but Rob. “I’ve no ear for music this night.”

His brow furrowed. “Are ye unwell?”

“No,” she said. “Just verra tired.”

He nodded and signaled one of his men. “Light the Lady Elspeth to her chamber, Albus.”

Her belly spiraled slowly downward. Rob wasn’t going to escort her to her room.

“And stand watch over her door till ye are relieved,” he added. The next song was beginning, and Rob’s gaze flicked to the pretty minstrel. “See that none enter the Lady Elspeth’s chamber…or leave.”

If Rob had slapped her, she’d have been less surprised. She wasn’t manacled and chained to a wall, but she was definitely his prisoner. It was as if the last few days hadn’t happened at all. The air seemed to flee from the hall, and her vision tunneled for a moment. Then she forced herself to breathe, and Rob’s face came back into focus.

“Good night, my lady,” he said and sketched a courtly bow.

She narrowly resisted the urge to kick his bowed head into next week. If she did, the people of Caisteal Dubh would probably tear her to pieces. Instead, she dropped a curtsey. “My lord.”

Then she followed Albus and his torch out of the hall and through the dark corridors to her very gilded cage.

Chapter 27

After Albus lit a candle for her outside her chamber, he ushered her in and closed the door. The latch dropped into place behind her with finality.

Elspeth refused help from a serving woman, so Albus called none to aid her. It was better to be alone with her thoughts than be the object of a lady’s maid’s speculations. The room was cold despite the lit braziers. She could see her breath.