He glanced to his right where Margaret had just stepped to his side. He was struck with how lovely and vulnerable she looked with her long, flaming, sea-tousled hair clinging to the slender column of her neck in places and sweeping across the expanse of pale skin revealed by her léine. She seemed to read his mind, or perhaps she just saw the way he could not tear his gaze from her, and crossed her arms over her chest.
She cleared her throat. “I can explain, my lord,” she said, dropping into a curtsy.
Rhys frowned at the trembling of her voice and the recollection of what she’d said about being ruined. “It’s my fault,” he blurted, not wanting to cause her any more trouble than he already had. “I didn’t see the lady swimming, and I jumped into the water. She ran, scared, and I came after her in need of directions. When you found us, a snake had just fallen from the tree and wrapped around her neck. I was just helping to free her.”
“You touched Lady Margaret?” her betrothed demanded.
“Well, yes,” Rhys replied, only seeing Margaret giving him a subtle shake of her headafterhe admitted to touching her.
“Cut off his hands,” the man ordered.
Rhys tensed as the warriors surrounding him made a move to grab his wrists. But then Margaret screamed, “He’s got the powers of the Devil!” and the men instantly stopped.
And then all hell broke loose.
Chapter Four
A path is laid out ahead,
it forks before your feet.
A decision filled with dread,
Uncertain of what you’ll meet.
~ Jojoba Mansell, “Hard Choices”
“Seize him!” Baron Bellecote thundered, and in that instant, Maggie was certain she’d just made matters worse. The guards surrounding the stranger stepped toward the man from either side, taking his arms, and when the man moved as if to run, Baron Bellecote put the tip of his sword against the man’s throat. A drop of crimson appeared.
Maggie gasped, and the man stilled, ceasing all efforts to escape. “Try to run and you will regret it,” the baron promised, his voice like a lash in the air.
She cursed herself for her stupidity in saying the man had the powers of the Devil. Why had she said that? Of all things! She knew what could happen to people others believed were in league with Satan. Yet, it had been the only thing she could think of that would stop the baron from cutting off the man’s hands in that instant. If the baron believed him to be cavorting with the Devil, he’d be fearful of retaliation if he took the stranger’s hands before the man’s bond with Satan was broken. But she also knew the way people were cleansed of Satan often resulted in horrid pain and even loss of life.
“What are ye going to do with him?” Maggie blurted, unable to contain her worry.
The baron’s gaze landed on her sharply. He motioned a hand to the two guards closest to her. “Take Lady Margaret to her sister, and tell her to properly clothe Lady Margaret and then bring her to the courtyard. Wait outside the bedchamber for them, and be quick.”
Before Maggie could even protest, she was being grabbed by both arms and dragged forward, away from the stranger. She glanced over her shoulder, and for one moment, with flames dancing across his face, she thought she saw outrage there, but she couldn’t say for certain. As she was ushered into the quiet courtyard and through the castle to her sister’s private bedchambers, which only the head lady-in-waiting was afforded, Maggie’s worry turned to herself. With each thudding step closer to her sister’s rooms, Maggie’s heartbeat quickened. Deirdre would be furious with her, and for good reason.
A pounding on the door later, and it creaked open to reveal Deirdre, with her long, flaxen hair hanging in perfect waves. She had obviously donned a bed robe over her night dress hastily, as she was still working to tie it when she opened the door. Between that and the sleepy look that lingered in her sister’s beautiful eyes, which had immediately drawn to Maggie and filled with a mixture of concern and dread, Maggie knew Deirdre had been asleep.
The guards unceremoniously thrust Maggie at Deirdre. “Baron Bellecote found Lady Margaret in the woods with a man,” one of the guards announced. Maggie winced as Deirdre sucked in a sharp breath, and her fingers closed around Maggie’s arm. She tugged Maggie close to her in a familiar protective gesture. “Baron Bellecote demands ye bring her,properly clothed, to the courtyard immediately.”
“Then by all means,” Deirdre said in a haughty, cold tone that made many people mistake her for aloof. Her sister was actually a kind person but very guarded due to all that had befallen their family and the scorn they’d endured because of it. “We will be there forthwith, if that is what the baron desires. Now if ye will excuse us so I may find my sister proper attire.”
And with that, Deirdre pulled Maggie back and firmly shut the door in the guards’ faces, locked it, and swung Maggie to face her. “What have ye done?” Deirdre hissed, worry and now anger contorting her sister’s lovely face.
Maggie cringed, knowing her foolish choices would likely have very bad consequences not only for herself and the stranger but for Deirdre and Yearger. Guilt nearly overwhelmed her. Both her siblings had shielded her as best they could from the disdain of many of the people they had once called friends. Lords and ladies alike, lairds and King Alexander himself had turned his back on their father. They’d lost much of their land and nearly all their holdings when their father had been named traitor—all but the castle King Alexander had bestowed upon Maggie on her birth. After their father’s death, things had gotten much worse, though. Deirdre’s betrothed had ended their engagement, saying that being touched in the head ran in families. Yearger had lost his position as commander in King Alexander’s guard and instead had been relegated to the lowest position available. Deirdre and Yearger had been the ones to come to Court and face being openly mocked and scorned. They’d been the ones to grovel for their positions, and they had worked hard over the last few years to gain favor at Court.
This knowledge burned in Maggie’s mind, and the truth was that now it was all at risk because of her. With the guilt and fear weighing on her, she met her sister’s searching gaze and promptly blurted out everything that had occurred, from her unthinking decision to sneak out of her bedchamber to her witless attempt to prevent Baron Bellecote from cutting off the stranger’s hands by claiming he had the powers of the Devil.
Deirdre’s lips parted in obvious shock, and she gaped at Maggie. Slowly, color began to rise in her cheeks, turning them from a shade of pearl to pink with her mounting anger. Never had she seen Deirdre speechless. Maggie thought of the stranger, who she felt certain was now in imminent danger, and though she knew it would likely anger Deirdre even more, Maggie grasped her sister by the hand. “I beg ye to awaken the queen and ask her to stop Baron Bellecote from harming the stranger.”
“Have ye lost yer senses?” Deirdre snapped, tugging her hand away from Maggie and turning her back to march toward her wardrobe. She flung it open, yanked out a gown, and faced Maggie once more, garment in hand and lips pursed. Sweeping her gaze over Maggie, Deirdre frowned more deeply. “If I awaken the queen, Maggie, all the ladies-in-waiting will learn ye were discovered alone, half-dressed, with a man. Yer betrothal will surely end, and ye know, as well as I do, that this betrothal was King Alexander’s wish. That will make the queen most unhappy, and we can nae guess the actions she will take against ye, against our family, in her state of mourning. Nay.” Deirdre shook her head and strode toward Maggie. “The best thing we can do is appease the baron immediately.” She stepped in front of Maggie and thrust the gown at her. “Make haste and dress, and I’ll do the same.”
“But, Deirdre,” Maggie said, intending to plead for the stranger, but her sister waved a silencing hand at her and motioned to the gown. Maggie dutifully began to put it on.
“Ye have a kind heart, Maggie. And I’m glad of it. I’m glad ye have nae been hardened as I have, or as Yearger has, but will ye extend more consideration to a stranger than to yer own family? Will ye protect a man ye do nae know above Yearger and me?”
