Page 42 of Kidnapped By her Highland Enemy
He bowed. “Greetings, I am Faither Antoni Cafell. I am told ye need an intermediary? I humbly offer my help.”
“Thank ye, Faither,” Lucas bowed. “This is a private matter, where shall we speak?”
“Please, follow me.”
He let them to a door and then to a stairwell that took them under the great hall to a room, held up by stone arches. The lighting was dim but enough came through the fist-sized holes in the wall to let them see. A round table sat in the middle of the room and had a smattering of wooden chairs around it. “This is one of the many meeting rooms here, please, shall we start?”
15
Atense silence filled the alcove, and Maisie heard the faint rasp of her breathing above the thundering of her own heart. They had come so far, been through so much, and now, they had a chance to put this blood feud behind them, so she could have the chance to be with Lucas. The priest was silent, allowing the two lairds to glare poisoned threats at each other.
“Faither,” Lucas stared. “This feud began ages ago when a Dunn laird stole the wife of my great, great grandfaither and from then, it has spiraled into constant battles and skirmishes and death on both sides.”
Angus stood, slapping his hands on the table, his eyes blazing. “He did not. Who told you such lies? The lass ran to us for protection, kenning, rightfully so, that yer grandsire would have abused her and slit her throat. That is the truth.”
Trembling with worry, Maisie sat as tense as a bowstring, waiting for Laird Barclay to respond and respond he did.
“Utter nonsense,” Cinead snapped. “Yer feckless sire is the criminal here, not mine, kidnapping the lass. It’s common knowledge.”
“Wrong, but yer son is nay any better,” her faither sneered, “He took me daughter while she was bathing.Bathing, Barclay, if that isnae the sign of a baseborn runt then what is?”
“Stop this,” Maisie finally said, her tone hard enough that it drew the attention of both older men. “This foolish feud over rumors is the reason why this blackguard who is targeting both of our clans will win.”
From inside a fold of her pleated tartan dress, Maisie took out the crumpled letter that Lucas had given her days before. “This man is counting on us to keep hating each other that we will kill ourselves.”
“May I see that, me lady?” the priest asked and Maisie gladly slid it over.
Then she looked at her father, “Did ye nae get a letter like this as well?”
Her father’s jaw spasmed. “I did, but I kent it was a ploy from Barclay to trick us.”
“Look beyond the notes an’ allegation that one from our camp is going to kill the other. It’s a lie, it’s all a lie and misdirection,” Lucas said stiffly. “Someone is doin’ this to breed more hatred between our people.” His gaze, dark with hurt, met Maisie’s. “And they have succeeded well.”
“And Laird Dunn, ye’ve received a similar letter?” the priest asked.
“Aye, I have,” Angus’s face soured with the admission.
“It’s true,” the priest said. “This is a treacherous plot to undermine both of yer noble houses. Which common enemy do ye have amongst ye?”
“That list is a furlong an’ a mile long,” her faither grumbled.
Sucking in a breath, Maisie said, “Lucas took me because he reasoned that if the threat were true, having me with him might have given the assassin reason to pause. It happens that when me faither got the same threat, it became clear that I could have been in danger as well. He might have saved me life.”
Maisie dared to give Lucas a quick look, her expression warm and filled with gratefulness—except it was not quick enough. The sound that left her father was a cross between a horrified gasp and a furious snarl.
“Barclay!” he shouted. “Ye’ve bewitched me daughter!”
“He did nay such thing, Faither,” Maisie said. “But we need to attend to this matter now. Now that we ken someone is trying to destroy us, shall we please put aside old grudges an’ work as one?”
“The lady is right,” the priest said calmly. “In light of a greater foe, I pray that ye leave the past in the past. I do understand that honor and pride will drive ye, but both arenae worth it if yer loved ones are made to pay the price. Peace had nay cost but war does. Band together and find who is threatening ye and oust him out of yer lives, then, please, let the love these two have for each other be the bond to join a fractured thread.”
Silence hung in the air before Cinead said, “For the sake of this new enemy, I take nay umbrage with making peace.”
Maisie looked at her father, whose face was mottled red. “Faither?”
“So be it,” he said, the words sharp and pointed. “But we’ll discuss this connection between ye two at length.”
“If needs be, ye can send for me and I’ll happily draft ye a charter of peace,” the priest said while smiling. “Again, me lairds, leave the past where it is an’ continue with peace.”
