Page 87 of Desiring the Highland Laird
Evie watched himclose the door behind him. She hated seeing the anger coupled with disappointment on his face. The moment he was gone, she slid out of the bed and did a frantic search for her undergarments. By the time she tugged her shift over her head, there was a knock on the door.
“Yes?” she called.
Roslyn poked her head in, her brow creased with worry. Evie waved her inside.
“Help me dress,” Evie said. “I’m going to—”
“Nay, lass. The laird sent me to look after ye.”
Evie shook her head. “No, I need to be there. I need to—”
“There’s no arguing with me,” she said, her tone stern. For a moment, the woman reminded Evie of her own mother. “I cannae disobey him. Neither can ye.”
She wanted to object with some tart reply that he wasn’t the boss of her, but that didn’t seem like the adult thing to do. It sounded childish. Instead, she sagged against the mattress with her hands in her lap. A tight knot of fear was in the pit of her stomach.
“What’s he going to do? I heard him tell Dougal to bring his claymore.”
“Aye,” was all Roslyn said with no elaboration.
She busied herself at the hearth, rebuilding the fire to get it started once again. Evie clutched her elbows as gooseflesh tickled over her arms and legs. She had a horrible idea of what Callum intended to do with that claymore and perhaps it was right that she stayed in the bedchamber with Roslyn. She didn’t want to see a man murdered in the great hall—a man that was the laird’s own brother.
She spied her stockings on the floor where Callum had left them—a heated flush pulsed to her cheeks—and snatched them up. There had to be some way to convince the woman to let her out of this bedchamber.
As she tugged on the first stocking, she paused there as the thought crossed her mind. What did she think to do? She had no power here. Callum was in charge as laird and Malcolm was his younger brother. Still, though, the thought of him wielding the claymore against his brother made a cold shiver of fear run through her.
When Roslyn got the fire going, she pushed up from the floor, brushing the dirt from her hands.
“Was what Dougal said true?” Evie asked. When Roslyn gave her a questioning look, she added, “About what he did.”
Worry followed by sorrow crossed her aged face as she sank into the chair by the fire. She clasped her hands in front of her and held them still in her lap, as if she were determined not to fidget.
“Aye,” she said, her voice low.
“Did people die?” Evie asked.
Roslyn cut her a glance. There was pain in her eyes which gave Evie her answer. A sickening feeling crept through her as her hands shook. It was hard for her to believe that Malcolm would attack innocent people and burn down their village. All in the name of vengeance. It seemed barbaric.
“So…what do we do now?” Evie asked.
“Stay here until the laird comes for us.” Her voice was low and wobbled with a bit of emotion as she spoke.
Evie understood then there was nothing for her to do but wait. But she was never good at sitting around and waiting. She got to her feet and turned her attention to the tapestries along the wall. They hadn’t changed much in the last twenty-four hours but something did catch her eye.
The one next to Chloe began to show a new image. The outline of Dundale Castle was clearly there. In front of it, the outline of a mob heading right for the keep. The leader held aloft a great axe. She sucked in a breath and looked back at the one with Moira on the hill and the army approaching. The same great axe was wielded in that tapestry. The light glinted off the blade.
“Oh, God,” she whispered, pressing her cold, shaking fingers against her lips.
She glanced back at the hanging with the newly formed image of the castle andknewwithout a shadow of a doubt who was leading that army.
MacDonald.
“Roslyn, I need to see Callum immediately.” She spun to face the woman as she spoke.
Her head snapped up as if she was sleeping with her chin on her chest. “Och, lassie, I cannae take ye to him.”
In a fit of frustration, she jerked the tapestry from the wall. It fell in a heap to the floor. She knelt and quickly rolled it up, scooping it off the floor in a bundle. The material was heavier than it looked hanging on the wall.
“I need to show him this.”
