Page 42 of A Highlander's Bride

He didn’t hesitate and left the cell with no further comments. She sighed and, preferring to make a statement by ignoring whatever food and drink had been provided, she knew in her heart Daniel was right now trying his best to find her. She didn’t want him to find a dead body.

She sniffed the liquid. Ale. She looked in the sack. Bread, cheese, two apples, and cold meat.

Yes, Lady Chisholm did intend to keep her alive.

*

Lady Chisholm enteredDaniel’s solar at his request. Without comment, he waved his hand at the chair in front of his desk.

He leaned forward, his hands resting on the desk. “Ye might think ye won by appealing to the advisors to set up a wedding with Lady Alice, but it willno’ work.”

Lady Chisholm sniffed. “I have no idea what ye speak of.”

Daniel slammed his palms on the desk. “Aye, ye do.” He took a deep breath, trying his best to get control of himself. He leaned back, his arms crossed over his chest. “Just tell me where Lady Beth is and ye, yer daughter and husband can leave Castle Leod with no consequences.”

The woman gripped the arm of her chair, her face as red as the last dish of beets Daniel had eaten. “I doona ken where Lady Beth is. All I ken is what I’ve heard around the keep and that is she fled to her sister’s home for a visit.”

He stood. “Pack yer belongings and send for yer carriage. The three of ye are no longer welcomed in Castle Leod.”

“Ye canno’ do that!”

“I can, and I will.” He stood and strode around the desk, storming from the room, slamming the door behind him.

He went to the stable and asked James to prepare Atlas for him.

The men were still out searching, but sitting around trying to get information from that despicable woman was doing no one any good.

He would join the search. She couldn’t be far since she disappeared from the time he’d left her bed until the next morning.

Once his head cleared he realized having Lord and Lady Chisholm leave the castle was not the best of ideas. He was certain she was the only one who knew what had happened to Beth.

In frustration, he turned around and headed back to the castle.

“Laird, the advisors requested ye join them in the great hall when you returned.” One of the grooms grabbed Atlas’s reins and held him while Daniel dismounted.

As much as he hated to do it, he summoned one of the maids and asked her to have Lady Chisholm join him in his solar in about thirty minutes. That was all the time he would give the elders since he knew what they were going to say, and he didn’t want to go over it again when Beth was missing and he was beginning to go from fear to absolute panic.

“Laird, have ye heard anything new?” Lady Munro walked into the great hall just as he entered. The advisors sat at the end of the dais.

He took Lady Munro’s hands in his. Her hands were cold as spring water. “Nay, my lady. My men are still searching. Once I finish the meeting with these men here, I will speak one more time with Lady Chisholm, then head to the village and question everyone.”

She nodded and left the room, her shoulders slumped.

Daniel took in a deep breath and walked to where the council members sat. He stood in front of them, his arms crossed over his chest. “What is it now? I have more important things to do than meet with ye every few hours. My choice of bride, who has accepted me, is missing.”

Morgan held a parchment in his hand. “Ye best forget about Lady Beth, laird.”

Daniel reached for the note and read it. “Nay!”

Chapter Fifteen

Beth leaned againstthe slimy cold wall, tired, but unable to sleep. She’d lost count on how long she’d been in the dungeon. It seemed like forever, but was most likely two or possibly three days. It was too dark to tell if and when day had passed into night, so she couldn’t be sure.

The sound of footsteps told her the man was here to bring her food and drink. It amazed her that despite what had happened to her and the horrid place in which she found herself, she was able to eat what the man brought.

The door opened and he stepped in, carrying the usual mug of ale and the sack with her food inside. Too weak to get up, she watched as he placed the candle he always carried down and handed her the mug.

Grateful for the liquid, she downed it. “I need more ale or I will die. If Lady Chisholm doesn’t wish me dead, one mug of ale a day is no’ going to keep me alive.”