Page 15 of Seduced By the Reckless Highlanders
“I am Lady Adaira McTavish,” Adaira replied with a glance at Keira.
“She really is my stepmother,” Keira confirmed, “although she was born a month before I was.”
There was a moment of astonished silence before Robbie Anderson spoke up. “You poor wee lassie.” His husky voice was full of sympathy. “Married tae that randy old swine. What right has he got tae wed a lovely young lass like yerself?” He stood up and handed them both a goblet of whiskey. “I take it you want the same thing as we do, hen?”
“I would like to run him through with Keira’s sword,” Adaira answered. “Is that what you want too?” She sipped her whiskey and looked around at all the men.
Keira had told everyone in the rebel band to attend that night, so there was a bigger crowd and a louder gale of laughter when Adaira stated her wishes.
“Welcome, lass. I see that we are a’ singin’ fae the same hymn sheet!” Robbie’s voice was warm as he rose from the crate where he had been sitting and moved to the floor to allow her to sit down. “There will be nay ‘milady’ here, though. We are plain an’ simple folk.”
Adaira shook her head, smiling. “I do not wish to be ‘milady’ anyway, so be at ease. My friends call me Addie. I hope you will all become my friends and do the same.”
A great cheer went up, and the food Keira had brought in her saddlebags was distributed. Adaira was bombarded with questions, and just as it seemed that her whole life story was about to be told in great detail, Keira called the meeting to order.
“We can examine Addie’s life story after I tell you what I have to say,” she stated. “Now, I have discovered through my spyhole in my father’s office that there is to be an ambush.”
A collective gasp went up, and at once, Keira had to calm everyone down. “I will tell you what I know,” she began.
After the meeting had ended, the two women rode slowly back to the castle. Both of them were exhausted, and Adaira, who was merry and giggling, had definitely imbibed one too many whiskies. They dismounted and crept inside, then made their way to their respective chambers, but not before Keira had warned Adaira to keep quiet for her own sake as well as everyone else’s.
“Not a word to anyone except Moira and me,” she ordered, gripping Adaira’s shoulders tightly. “Understand, Addie? Otherwise we will all be in grave danger. My father will not hesitate to do away with us all if he finds out about our plan.”
Adaira looked up into Keira’s blue eyes, now shadowed by her fierce, frowning brows.
“Yes, Keira,” she said meekly, before turning and fleeing to her bedroom. Sometimes her stepdaughter could be quite frightening.
Keira felt a little under the weather the next morning, even though she had not had much to drink. She drank some warm ale and cautiously put her feet out of bed to test the temperature. Despite the late spring weather, it was cold, and she quickly wrapped herself in a woolen blanket before standing up. She looked outside and saw that it was once again raining, and her spirits plummeted at once.
Presently, Moira arrived with her bathtub and two other manservants carrying buckets of warm water. Moments later, she was languishing in lavender-scented water with her eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of warmth and safety a bath always gave her.
“Dinnae be in too long, milady,” Moira told her. “Remember ye are bein’ fitted for yer new dress today, the one ye are wearin’ tae meet the earl.”
“I had forgotten,” Keira groaned.
Reluctantly, she stood up, and Moira helped her dry off before beginning the tedious process of dressing her.
It had always angered Keira that men could dress in comfortable clothes, whereas women had to be squeezed into dresses that were far too tight for them. She wondered how long a man would be able to last in the tight crimson dress she was being shoehorned into at this moment. When it was at last time to cover her chemise and corset with the dress, Keira could hardly breathe.
“Damn!” she said irritably. “I am going to excuse myself early the night I meet the earl, Moira. I refuse to do myself an injury wearing this thing.”
“But ye look lovely, milady,” Moira said soothingly, smiling at her in the mirror.
“That is no good if my ribs are broken,” Keira grumbled, then her eyes flew open and she jumped backward with a scream as the chamber door crashed inward, shuddering on its hinges.
Her father came barrelling full tilt through the door and rushed toward her, his face flushed crimson with rage. He cannoned into her, almost knocking her off her feet, and her scream was cut off as Archie McTavish’s hands closed around her throat and squeezed so hard that her windpipe closed, cutting off her breath.
Keira tried to prise his hands away from her neck, but they were too strong, and she felt as though her eyes were going to pop out of her head as she fought to breathe. It was becoming more difficult with every second that passed. Her knees began to give way, and her hands fell to her side. She saw that Moira was trying to pull her father away, but he tossed her aside with a swipe of his hand and resumed the pressure on her throat with renewed vigor.
Keira looked with complete horror into the laird’s furious eyes, sure that he had gone absolutely mad. A dark mist was beginning to descend over her vision, and she felt herself slipping away into blessed unconsciousness.
However, at that moment, her father must have realized that he had gone too far, for he seemed to come to his senses. He let go of Keira’s throat and she fell onto the bed, coughing as if she would never stop while she gulped in great lungfuls of sweet, life-giving air.
“Listen to me, my girl,” her father hissed. “You will do everything I say when the earl arrives. You will not show me up in front of a man as prominent as he is, or I will make you regret it sorely. Are you listening to me?”
Keira gathered the tattered shreds of her dignity about her and nodded. Tears had begun to leak from her eyes; they were not tears of sadness but tears of pure rage. She felt like spitting in his face, but she knew that that would only antagonize him further. How she wished she had a dagger in her hand at that moment! She tried to sound calm and reasonable.
“I will do whatever you ask of me, Father,” she replied, with all the self-control she could muster. “After all, if I embarrass you, I embarrass myself.” She stood up again, coughed for a few moments, then, with a heroic effort, pasted a smile on her face. “How does my dress look?”
