“But the laird will no be happy do we keep him waiting, and I’d as lief no ha’ to answer for a longer delay.”
“Indeed, m’lady,” Una said, “ye’ll surely be well again by morning.”
“ ’Tis right, she is,” the helmsman said. “I ha’ never known ye to be sick for more than a few hours. We’ll fetch ye in the morning then.”
Knowing better than to argue, Sorcha leaned heavily against Sidony and said she was feeling worse. She was sorry and a little amused moments later when she realized the man carrying her feared she might be sick all over him at any moment.
At the MacIver croft, Una took charge, finding her mother and quickly explaining that Lady Sorcha had fallen ill on her return journey from Eigg.
That spurred Bess MacIver to inform the boatmen sternly that they could take themselves off to Glenelg atonce and return for her ladyship when she was feeling better. If they chose to come back the following day, that was their business.
“But ye ken fine,” she added, “that I’ll no let her ladyship go anywhere till she be feeling gey hardy again.”
After that, the helmsmen seemed happy enough to depart, leaving Sorcha and Sidony to Bess MacIver’s capable ministrations.
“We’ve only the one bed, m’lady,” Bess said. “But we’ll ha’ ye in it in a trice, tucked up wi’ a hot brick to warm ye, for I warrant ye’re chilled through after being out on the water in this oorlich wind.”
Peeking through the tiny window in the main room of the croft to be sure the boatmen were gone, Sorcha said in her usual crisp way, “No one is going to take your bed, Bess. I am perfectly stout, I promise you.”
“Bless me, then, what is this?” Bess demanded, looking at all three young women in much the same way as she had when Sorcha and Sidony were children in mischief. “I’m thinking now that despite your ages, all three o’ ye want skelping, so ye’d best tell me what ye’re up to. And be gey quick about it, too.”
The long hours of silent riding had given Adela time to think. Although she still took care not to think of his lordship by name even when that name floated near the surface of her mind, fearing still to anger him by speaking it aloud, she had recalled another detail about their meeting at Orkney. He had seemed then to ally himself with the Green Abbot of Iona, a fierce enemy of the Lord of the Isles.
For years, her sisters Cristina and Isobel had warned her that the abbot, once an ally of Macleod’s, was evil and a sworn enemy of Clan Gillean and the Lord of the Isles. Her captor was certainly wicked to have abducted her, but even after more than two days in his company, she had persuaded herself that he was not truly evil.
To be sure, he had struck her the first day without real cause. But she had not known then how angry an oblique response to a question could make him. She knew now that he expected honest, direct answers, that equivocation infuriated him. She had seen that more than once.
For the most part, he had been kind enough yesterday, and so far today. He had even allowed her privacy to relieve herself, although he did surround the area with his men each time, and had said he would kill her if she tried to escape.
He had made that threat so often that she had come to hope he used the words without thought or true intent to do harm. Still, his men were afraid of him, and she wanted to survive. If she remained calm and submitted to his will whenever she could, surely she could hold out until an opportunity arose for escape or rescue.
Chapter 5
H astily, Sorcha explained to Bess what had happened to Adela and their fear that no one was yet searching for her.
“We did hear about her wedding,” Bess admitted. “But was the man who took her no the one she hoped would marry her?”
“We all thought he was,” Sorcha said. “We did not learn that we were wrong until this morning, but my father says that is Adela’s fault. And mine,” she added
“Indeed, m’lady,” Una said, “ye’ll surely be well again by morning.”
“ ’Tis right, she is,” the helmsman said. “I ha’ never known ye to be sick for more than a few hours. We’ll fetch ye in the morning then.”
Knowing better than to argue, Sorcha leaned heavily against Sidony and said she was feeling worse. She was sorry and a little amused moments later when she realized the man carrying her feared she might be sick all over him at any moment.
At the MacIver croft, Una took charge, finding her mother and quickly explaining that Lady Sorcha had fallen ill on her return journey from Eigg.
That spurred Bess MacIver to inform the boatmen sternly that they could take themselves off to Glenelg atonce and return for her ladyship when she was feeling better. If they chose to come back the following day, that was their business.
“But ye ken fine,” she added, “that I’ll no let her ladyship go anywhere till she be feeling gey hardy again.”
After that, the helmsmen seemed happy enough to depart, leaving Sorcha and Sidony to Bess MacIver’s capable ministrations.
“We’ve only the one bed, m’lady,” Bess said. “But we’ll ha’ ye in it in a trice, tucked up wi’ a hot brick to warm ye, for I warrant ye’re chilled through after being out on the water in this oorlich wind.”
Peeking through the tiny window in the main room of the croft to be sure the boatmen were gone, Sorcha said in her usual crisp way, “No one is going to take your bed, Bess. I am perfectly stout, I promise you.”
“Bless me, then, what is this?” Bess demanded, looking at all three young women in much the same way as she had when Sorcha and Sidony were children in mischief. “I’m thinking now that despite your ages, all three o’ ye want skelping, so ye’d best tell me what ye’re up to. And be gey quick about it, too.”
The long hours of silent riding had given Adela time to think. Although she still took care not to think of his lordship by name even when that name floated near the surface of her mind, fearing still to anger him by speaking it aloud, she had recalled another detail about their meeting at Orkney. He had seemed then to ally himself with the Green Abbot of Iona, a fierce enemy of the Lord of the Isles.
For years, her sisters Cristina and Isobel had warned her that the abbot, once an ally of Macleod’s, was evil and a sworn enemy of Clan Gillean and the Lord of the Isles. Her captor was certainly wicked to have abducted her, but even after more than two days in his company, she had persuaded herself that he was not truly evil.
To be sure, he had struck her the first day without real cause. But she had not known then how angry an oblique response to a question could make him. She knew now that he expected honest, direct answers, that equivocation infuriated him. She had seen that more than once.
For the most part, he had been kind enough yesterday, and so far today. He had even allowed her privacy to relieve herself, although he did surround the area with his men each time, and had said he would kill her if she tried to escape.
He had made that threat so often that she had come to hope he used the words without thought or true intent to do harm. Still, his men were afraid of him, and she wanted to survive. If she remained calm and submitted to his will whenever she could, surely she could hold out until an opportunity arose for escape or rescue.
Chapter 5
H astily, Sorcha explained to Bess what had happened to Adela and their fear that no one was yet searching for her.
“We did hear about her wedding,” Bess admitted. “But was the man who took her no the one she hoped would marry her?”
“We all thought he was,” Sorcha said. “We did not learn that we were wrong until this morning, but my father says that is Adela’s fault. And mine,” she added
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