Page 18 of The Highlander Steals a Virgin
“I called ye here to discuss Finn’s capture,” Rhys said after a moment.
The council members looked at each other, their expressions showing their confusion. They’d expected Rhys to have returned with Finn, not with the Murdoch lass.
“Laird Murdoch refused the exchange,” he explained next. “He dinnae even hesitate when he declined.”
A low murmur went around the chamber as the elders discussed this unexpected outcome.
“Mayhap he was stallin’,” Angus, the youngest council member suggested. He scrubbed a hand over his jaw as he frowned in thought.
“Nay,” Rhys denied. “The man was adamant. He made it clear that he dinnae want his daughter back.”
“He told ye this?” Leighton Baird asked, surprise coating his voice.
Rhys nodded then pounded a fist on the table. “Aye, the bastard did. He told me to kill her for all he cared.”
The others gaped at each other, horrified that a father could forsake his child so easily.
“He would have nay discussion on releasing Finn,” Rhys continued. “I’m nae even sure me cousin is still alive, but if he is, he’s surely being tortured.”
“Ye daenae ken that for sure,” Leighton said, trying to calm Rhys before he could lose his temper. Rhys could always trust the man to speak with the weight of wisdom and the hush of peace.
But this time, it didn’t work.
Rhys had been fighting his temper, and lust, for too long. “Aye, Ido,” he snapped a hand falling heavily on the table, as if this back and forth had done nothing but further his frustrations, which it clearly had. “There’s nothin’ left to do but to put a torch to Murdoch’s gates, tear down his walls, and drag every last man from the halls if it’s what it takes to bring Finn home.”
“There are ways to bring him home without sheddin’ blood,” Leighton remarked. “We just need to find one that works.”
“I willnae wait for diplomacy to buy time while Finn dies in chains,” Rhys snapped.
“And we willnae make such a bold move and risk breakin’ the treaty without further discussion,” Robert, the second oldest council member, said, his tone brokering no argument.
Rhys tried to push his stance for a while longer, but the elders were adamant that there needed to be more discussion before they took such drastic measures.
Furious and feeling helpless, Rhys left the council chamber. He’d had no particular destination in mind; he’d just wanted to get out of the chamber before he lost his temper. But suddenly he found himself standing outside Amara’s chamber door, and the next thing he knew, he had a raised fist, ready to knock.
8
Amara jerked the chamber door open at the sound of the knock, fully expecting to see Rhys on the other side. Her eyes widened when she spotted a young maid with dark blonde hair and grass-green eyes. She was a little on the plump side, but her expression was open, not hostile like she’d seen on most of the other clan members when she’d arrived.
The maid hesitated at the doorway, holding a pile of folded cloth under one arm, and a tray of food in the other. She stared at Amara with a mixture of hesitancy and curiosity. Apparently, curiosity won out.
“I’m Nina, me lady,” the younger woman said. “I’m to be yer maid.”
Amara stepped back as Nina went inside the chamber. She walked straight over to the bed taking up most of the middle of the chamber, and set down the pile of cloth.
“I’ve brought ye a change of clean clothes and some food,” Nina said, strolling next to the side table where she set down a tray of mutton swimming in dark juices, a large slice of warm bread with steam still rising from it, some fruit, and a pitcher of ale with a tankard.
“Thank ye.” Amara went to the food tray first and broke off a piece of bread. She moaned with pleasure when she put it in her mouth, the soft warm bread slathered with honey teasing her tongue. The hard bread and nuts this morning hadn’t done much to quell her hunger.
“A bath will be up shortly,” Nina said, her voice chipper. “I told the lads to be careful this time and to nae slosh water all over the stairs.” She laughed, shaking her head. “Last time they brought water to this level, they left a trail dripping down the steps. Arnold, poor man, slipped in one of the puddles and nearly broke his leg.”
Amara nodded as she leaned down to taste the stew. It was surprisingly good, the juices spicy and the meat tender. She didn’t know what she’d expected from the O’Donnell’s, but she was glad the food was tasty.
“I brought ye one of the house dresses,” Nina continued. She walked back to the bed and lifted the folded cloth, revealing a worn but serviceable brown dress with all the accessories. “’Tis plain but clean. Cook made sure the sleeves werenae tattered, and said even a Murdoch had to be presentable.”
Amara stiffened, but before she could say anything, Nina apologized.
“I apologize, me lady. Me mouth, ‘tis a curse sometimes. Words come out that I daenae even ken I was thinkin’ of.”
