CHAPTER 24
A knock on the door startled me from my sleep. The air in my room was icy, and I was worried my toes would freeze to the
floor as I tiptoed to the door wrapped in thick blankets. I opened the door a crack and was surprised to find a maid
waiting with a breakfast tray.
“Madain mhath. With compliments from the laird. He inquires whether there is anything else you might need?”
I accepted the tray containing oatcakes, honey, a pot of steaming hot tea, and a candied apple.
“No, thank you. Please give him my thanks and assure him that I have everything I need.”
The girl curtsied and left me to my tray of delicacies.
I was surprised at Fingal’s generosity. He didn’t treat me like a prisoner at all. On the contrary, I felt like a
welcome guest in his house—not taking into account the constant supervision by Payton, which of course I didn’t mind
too much.
I was wearing a clean nightgown; there was a washbasin with a pitcher containing fresh water; and there was even a small
piece of soap with the fresh scent of pine needles. Plus, I had all the soft, thick blankets; this beautiful room; and a
breakfast fit for a queen.…
I was sure that all of this would be considered lavish waste by most people in this era. So—why was he granting me
these luxuries?
If I thought back to the type of accommodation Blair had planned for me, the whole setup surprised me even more.
Prisoners were sent to the dungeon and were certainly not invited to dine in the Great Hall. I had wondered about this
yesterday when I felt the residents of Castle Burragh giving me the evil eye.
But my worried thoughts were dispelled as soon as I tasted the delicious oatcakes smothered in honey. The caramel apple
and hot tea drove the cold from my bones.
Once I finished my breakfast and put on Mistress MacQuarrie’s green dress, I felt like a new person. I picked it
because it was the warmest of the few clothes I had. Still, I would have given anything to slip into a comfy pair of
jeans and a hoodie. When would those be invented?
I opened the window. The cold, clear morning air poured into my room and announced a sunny day ahead. There was not a
single cloud in the sky. Typical, just typical. Now that I no longer had to spend my days on horseback, the rain had
stopped. I felt joy at seeing the first few rays of sunshine paint the horizon with bright orange brushstrokes. The
peaks of the Grampian Mountains glowed red in the early-morning sun, an indescribably beautiful sight. It was one of
those magical moments that I had only ever experienced in Scotland.
But this was only the beginning of my day, and I didn’t want to picture what else it held in store for me. Payton
trusted me, sure—even though my story sounded less than plausible to him—but I was not one inch closer to saving him,
because I didn’t know where exactly Ross had found me. Learning that was my first priority of the day.
To my surprise, the Fates were smiling upon me for a change, because a moment later they brought Ross to my door.
He looked less warrior-ish, as he wasn’t wearing his sword and leather chest piece this morning. This made him look
even younger than I had taken him for. He almost seemed my age.
This realization only increased my respect for the young Scot. I had seen him fight men twice as strong and twice as old
as he was. He must have been fighting since a very young age if he was that good and that experienced. When I looked
into his eyes, I even thought I saw Ross Galbraith fighting every single day of his life. Suddenly, it seemed really
important to find out as much about him as possible—and to figure out why I was seemingly destined to kill him.
Such a horrible act seemed unimaginable, especially now that he was looking at me with such kind eyes. I invited him in
because he was carrying pieces of fabric over his arm.
“What’s all this?” I asked, following him. On the bed he spread out two beige-colored bodices, a beige skirt, a green
apron, and a woolen shawl.
“Your new wardrobe. The laird must be particularly happy with your services.”
I disliked his tone as much as I disliked the look on his face. He scanned the room assertively, stopping on the two
cups still sitting on the table from my talk with Payton the previous night. As if this had just confirmed his worst
assumptions, he nodded and pointed at the cups.
“What the heck, Ross? What are you trying to tell me?”
“Nothing, my dear. I’m not blaming you. If all I had to do was spread my legs to get a nice little bedchamber and all
this trumpery, then I wouldn’t think twice about it, either.”
I was acting on raw impulse when I raised my hand and slapped him so hard that the pain traveled from my fingers all the
way up to my shoulder.
“How dare you talk to me like that!” I snapped, my voice vibrating with anger. “How dare you even think that about
me? I’ll tell you this once, Ross, and you’d be wise to remember it: I’m not ‘spreading my legs’ for anyone around
here. Do you get me?”
Ross squirmed under my furious glare as he massaged the bright red handprint on his cheek.
“I am…sorry, Samantha, but I thought…,” he said, making a pathetic attempt to apologize. “This special attention
you’ve been getting…you were dining at the clan chief’s table.…I thought…,” he broke off.
“I know what you thought, Ross!” I said, still seething.
“All I mean is, I would have understood. You are dependent on their mercy. You are afraid of what might happen when my
brothers return and take you away. Being under the great McLean’s protection is nothing to be sneezed at.”
“Shut up already! Of course I’m worried about not knowing of what might become of me. But I would never…”
“All right, all right, I apologize. It’s just that I wish I could protect you. But instead, all I’m doing is hurting
you with my rash and thoughtless words.”
“Forget about it. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I’d rather you tell me what the plan is for me today. Do
you know?”
Relieved to be back in shallow waters, Ross straightened up. “Yes, they asked me to take you into the woods. We are to
gather juniper berries and keep an eye out for goldenrod. Nanny MacMillan wants to brew one of her magic potions.”
I still felt miffed from our discussion, but I reached for the shawl and wrapped it around my shoulders. After all, I
had questions that I hoped Ross knew the answer to. Maybe I could sound him out during our expedition to the forest.
“All right, then, let’s go,” I egged him on.
I wanted to get him out of my room as quickly as possible, because I had noticed something flashing on the floor. It was
the silver tip of the sgian dhu that Payton had used to swear his oath to me. It was peeping out from under the blue bed
curtains. In passing, I pushed the knife deeper under the curtain so that it was no longer visible. I didn’t know what
lay ahead, and I wasn’t planning on having that knife taken away from me a second time. But most importantly, I didn’t
want to carry the dagger with me whenever Ross was near. His moment of death was ingrained in my memory all too vividly.
Ignoring my goose bumps, I pulled the door closed and followed him into the castle yard.
Payton was standing atop the battlement with the wind blowing in his face. He enjoyed feeling the sunshine on his skin.
He’d been up here on guard duty for hours, and he’d admired the unique play of colors during the sunrise.
He knew he needed to reflect on all that was happening. But he was too preoccupied to think straight. He could still
feel Sam’s kiss good-bye from the night before. Instead of the grave situation Mistress Cameron had shared with him,
all he could do was think about her eyes burning deep into his soul. What was the matter with him?
He had never thought of himself as someone particularly passionate. He had never guessed that he could fall head over
heels for a girl. At sixteen, he’d had a brief love affair with the daughter of a traveling showman whose theater
troupe performed at the castle. After the performance, during which the girl had juggled burning torches and offered
herself as a target for the knife thrower, she had lured Payton behind the troupe’s wagon and seduced him. He had
succumbed to her feminine charms, but he had quickly realized that many young men had gone before him in her life. She
was skilled in the art of seduction, and she clearly enjoyed the pleasures of their carnal union. The theater troupe
moved on only two days later. Payton had no regrets and didn’t shed a tear for this girl. After all, he didn’t really
know her, never mind love her.
But then, out of the blue, Sam entered his life and turned everything upside down.
Was it because he’d had a moment of weakness when he noticed her at first? Or was it true what Sam had said—that they
were meant for each other? Was that even possible? He did some soul-searching, conjuring up that feeling that had washed
all over him when she had stumbled into his arms at McRae’s cottage.
It wasn’t just passion; it went much deeper than that. He wanted to protect her. He didn’t want to ever let her go,
because holding her in his arms seemed so right. It was as though she belonged there.
It felt so natural to him to share with her his worries about his father, even though he never normally showed that
level of vulnerability to anyone. And despite the stress he was under, she always managed to make him laugh. It had
never occurred to him to treat her as his enemy. Instead, his heart must have known right from that very first moment
that she was the one he would love. He could barely believe that it had only been a few days; his feelings for her were
deep and true.
He leaned against the battlement, closed his eyes, and conjured up her image.
She was so delicate, so slender, like only a few women were. But her courage made her seem big. She had put up a good
fight yesterday in the Great Hall, considering how hostile everyone had been toward her. He wished he could have spared
her the experience, but his father was convinced that it was the right thing to do, showcasing her like that.
“That way everyone will see that she’s under my special protection,” Fingal had explained. “Also, because she’s a
Cameron, they will keep their eyes on her. Thus, I don’t have to constantly worry about her sneaking away.”
No, sneak away she would not. But she had told him openly that she needed to leave him soon. That she had to do it in
order to save his life.
He still didn’t completely understand what she was talking about. All he knew was that he believed her. Unquestionably.
But could he assist her and take her away against his father’s will?
He had sworn an oath not only to his father but also to Blair, who would be Fingal’s successor one day. He’d sworn to
accept their word as the law and never act against their will. Could he break that oath?
Once more his thoughts returned to their kiss. Could a kiss be more important than an oath he had sealed with his blood?
If he listened to his heart, he already knew the answer—even though his mind was still reluctant to accept this truth.
For him it would mean pain and loss to give himself to Sam fully and in all its consequence, but it was the only way to
prove himself worthy of her love.
His temples were throbbing painfully, so intensely was his mind working. He looked down into the courtyard.
Sam was accompanied by Ross, strolling through the main gate and carrying a wicker basket. Payton squinted and mumbled a
curse. He didn’t like seeing that boy near her all the time.
The forest barely looked like one. Only a few trees rose up into the sky, because a huge woodland area had been cleared,
with hundreds of tree trunks piled up and awaiting further processing.
“This is supposed to be your forest? What happened to all the trees? Why have they all been cut down?”
“We’re making room for pastures. Our borders to the other clans aren’t safe, and we need our cattle to be grazing
closer to the castle. So, the woods have to go,” Ross enlightened me.
I wasn’t convinced that this approach made any sense, but I continued walking, and I bent down to collect my first
batch of juniper berries. At least it wouldn’t take us long to find our berries in this so-called forest. And precisely
because it wouldn’t take long, I needed to get to the point.
“Tell me, Ross, what exactly is the story with these cattle thieves? Why do you think it’s the Camerons who are
stealing your cattle? Have you caught them in the act? Is that why you advanced that deep into their territory?”
Ross jerked his head up and stared at me with suspicion.
“It was the Camerons, that’s for sure. That clan has been nothing but trouble for us since forever.”
“Is that why you knocked me down at the stone cottage? Is that the reason you abducted me? Just because we Camerons
have been causing you trouble since forever?”
Ross scratched his neck and self-consciously tugged on his shirt collar. “I wouldn’t have taken you with us, and I
honestly don’t know what Duncan’s plans are for you. But then again, it is none of my business. He made that clear.”
He looked at me, and I saw brief anger flare up in his eyes.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Nothing, don’t worry about it. It wasn’t exactly the first time that they beat me up.”
“They beat you up? Who?”
“Sam! Mind your own business. Just collect your damn berries.”
I stepped closer to him and put my hand on his shoulder because he had turned his back to me.
“Ross? Why do you allow them to treat you that way? They’re your brothers—why would they do such a thing?”
Ross gave a wretched laugh but looked me square in the eye. Many years of anger and hurt were clearly written on his
face.
“Brothers? Aye, they might be my brothers, but they’re also the devil’s spawn! And just like the devil, they enjoy
hurting people. Don’t ever forget that, Sam. They enjoy the feeling of humiliating you, kicking you, and then seeing
you writhe in the mud before them.”
Cold shivers ran down my back. I could tell that they had done all of this to him, and probably more. Misery and
suffering were bursting out of him. I couldn’t say anything, didn’t know what words to use to comfort him. But he
seemed to appreciate my silence. He bent down to gather some berries and put them in the basket before facing me once
more.
“My mother was still very young. She had just been married to my father. He was a shepherd working for the Stuarts,
just as I am now. Those were great big flocks of sheep, and Father was gone a lot. One day, Grant Stuart, the son of the
old laird, came to our cottage. He wanted to pick up two lambs that my father had killed for him.”
Ross turned away from me and continued gathering berries. It seemed he had lived through—a thousand times over—the
story he was about to tell me.
“Mother was alone. She was unable to fight him off. Nobody stopped him from taking whatever he desired. And he must
have enjoyed her pain, too, because he kept coming back for more—over and over. Father confronted Grant and threatened
to take it to the old laird should he ever dare to come near his wife again. But that dirty, evil man just laughed and
commanded his men to cut Father’s throat should he cause any more trouble. Then he defiled Mother right before Father’
s very eyes. He planted his evil seed in Mother’s womb. When he was done, he had his men beat Father almost to death.
Since that day, Father has been blind in one eye. If only they had taken both of his eyes, he wouldn’t have had to
witness the devil’s seed growing inside his wife’s belly. She gave birth to twins, Duncan and Dougal. Without regard
for the disgrace and dishonor he brought upon his wife, Una, who had given birth to his legitimate son and heir only
months before, Grant sent for the boys, had them brought to Galthair, and recognized them as his own.”
The skin on his hands was stained from the dark juice of the juniper berries he was dropping in the basket.
“It took almost ten years for my mother to tolerate the touch of a man again. So I guess I should be grateful that I
was even born at all.”
He picked up the basket and went deeper into the thorny underbrush. I followed, lifting the hem of my dress so it wouldn
’t get caught in the brambles. This story—his story—was truly awful. I could not believe that people were capable of
such brutality.
“Why would you even stay with them, work with them? Don’t you have every reason in the world to hate them?” I called
after him.
Ross stopped and turned around. The anger and hurt on his face had turned into grim determination. He came closer and
stopped only a few inches short of me.
“Hate them? Maybe—but I hate my father more!” he hissed through gritted teeth. His breath, so close to my ear, made
my skin crawl.
“I will not be the kind of man who accepts a dagger at his throat while his woman is being violated. I will never stand
idly by while my son is being beaten to a pulp and writhing in pain. One day, Samantha, I’m going to stand on the other
side. On the winners’ side!”
I took a step back and pulled the shawl closer around my body. I felt cold, despite the sunny day.
“I wonder what side your mother would prefer to see you on?” I snapped, and received a snarky grin in reply.
“My mother’s dead. She killed herself when I was only seven days old. Do you want to know why?”
No, I did not. I wanted to leave him and his horrible story behind, but he gruffly grabbed my arm.
“She killed herself because Grant Stuart sent her a birthday gift for me. In it was the dagger that they had held to my
father’s throat so many years before, and a letter. He wrote that he would stop by soon to congratulate her in person.
And before Father could take the dagger away from her, she used it to end her own life.”
He pulled the dagger from his belt and held it under my nose.
I felt dizzy. I recognized the intricacies of its ornaments, knew it from my hallucinations. This was not only the
dagger that had taken his mother’s life, but it would bring death to Ross, too. I tore away from him, stumbling
backward.
“Leave me!” I shrieked. I had to put some distance between him and me, as I was afraid I would plunge the knife’s
blade deep into his chest like I had seen in my vision. “Put the knife away, Ross!” I begged.
As quickly as he had pulled it out, he made the dagger disappear inside its leather sheath and raised his hands.
“Aye, tha mi duilich,” he apologized. “I didn’t want to frighten you. Well, I think we have gathered enough berries.
Let’s return to the castle and see if we can exchange the berries for some cold meats,” he suggested in an obvious
effort to smooth over the unpleasant conversation we’d just had.
“Wait! I’ve got one more question, Ross,” I said. Although now that I was aware of his terrible past, I instinctively
knew that he wouldn’t answer any of my actual questions. Whatever he knew, he wouldn’t share it with me. He looked at
me without saying a word.
“Do you really think that the person who once squirmed in the mud before them can be the one holding the dagger? Isn’t
that person forever damned to be the one on his knees?”
“If you’re smart, Sam, you will use the dagger that is pressed against your throat to gain the upper hand. The moment
of surprise is your biggest advantage.”