Page 17 of The Burden of a Scottish Chieftain
His mother turned her back for a second to manage her emotions. He’d seen her do it numerous times in his life. She’d not shed a tear around the others. While she turned away, he finished packing his small bag and changed out of his identifying dark green plaid into black trews and a tunic.
She whirled back around, the picture of control reinstated, her chin lifted. “I bid you Godspeed, my dear son. I pray you do find him, even if he is not guilty in this instance.”
He kissed her cheek and said, “Remember your promise, Mama.”
“I would never betray you, Lennox.” Then she gave him that look that frightened many of the serving lasses. “Find that bastard and put your sword in his wicked heart.”
Lennox left, silently vowing to do as she said.
Before he descended the staircase, he stopped, turning back to her. There were so many conversing in the great hall that no one could overhear his words. He took two steps back and did the one thing he’d vowed never to do. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “You’re right, Mama. You’ve always been right about this.”
A single tear slid down his mother’s cheek.
Chapter Eleven
Meg
Meg awakened the next morning, hoping she hadn’t slept too late. She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. It took her a few moments to orient herself to where she was, but no sooner had it all come back to her than she overheard male voices outside her chamber. Rather than open the door to see who was there, she decided to listen and moved closer.
“You will keep her here.”
“She is heading to Oban, so the stable master said. She’ll not wish to stay.”
“You must find a way to keep her here.”
“Why? I know that shipment arrived, but they’ll not bother her. They are all sleeping. What can she do?”
“True, but unless you wish to control those four bairns, I’d say keep her. They’ll be picked up in a day or two. Offer her coin. Women are much better at handling bairns than we are, and you know it. And I’ll not ask Mabel to do it. She’s got to cook for them on top of her other duties.”
“Agreed.”
Meg stepped back from the door, aware of movement. A knock rapped against the wood, so she opened it and peeked around the corner. A man stood there with a bowl of porridge and a pitcher of fresh water. Grateful, she thanked him, closed the door, then sat on the cot, eating the porridge while it was still warm. No matter what happened today, she would need her strength.
Once she finished breaking her fast, she used the pitcher to wash up then donned her trews again. She still had one gown she hadn’t worn, but she decided to save it to put on if she needed to obtain passage on the ship.
For now, she wished to depart before it was too late. She had no idea what the men had been discussing about bairns and shipments and such, but it was time to take her leave. Even though this was a kirk, she also recognized that much of this building was hidden. She was certain very few were aware that the cellars featured sleeping chambers.
She hadn’t seen any nuns or heard any priests, though she supposed the two she’d heard this morning could’ve been priests; she just couldn’t be sure. It was time to get on her way. Packing her things carefully, her axes hidden, she moved out of the chamber, looking both ways before creeping up the stairs to the back entrance as quietly as she could.
She opened the door carefully, then hurried to the stables, but that was as far as she got. Two large men approached her.
“Come with us,” one said, taking her by the elbow and turning her toward the building they’d just exited.
“Nay, I must be leaving now.” She shoved against his chest, though it was rock hard—her effort did nothing to sway the man. She’d hoped to push away from him, but he wasn’t about to allow it.
“You’re staying with us.”
“Nay, I’m leaving.” She kicked him in the shin.
“Ow, you wee bitch.”
She shoved him harder, so he put his hand over her mouth and lifted her up, carrying her toward the building, a good distance away from the kirk. Knowing she had to get away before it was too late, she fought and kicked and even tried biting the man, but she couldn’t fight him off. She still clutched her bag, but her axe was at the bottom of it sheathed where she couldn’t reach it.
“Open the door, Herbert.”
“Stop using my name.”
“Open the door, eejit.”
