Any bit of exhaustion or frustration she had been feeling vanished in an instant. She leaned closer to listen.
“It seems our father was nae good with coin. Somehow, he managed to squander away most of our fortune, along with his inheritance,” Willem said. He rubbed his weary eyes with the palms of his hands. “Instead of going to his allies or friends, he went to the Chisolm.”
“Why on earth would he go to them?” That didn’t make a lick of sense to her.
Willem let loose a heavy breath. “We think he was too ashamed. He did nae want his allies or friends to ken what he had done.”
It suddenly began to make sense. Her father’s public image was everything to him. He spent the better part of his life worried over what others might think. Perfection. For whatever reasons, he needed the rest of the world to believe he was living nothing short of the perfect life. Any imperfections simply wouldn’t be tolerated. And that was why he locked her away. Aeschene didn’t fit into the picture he had so carefully painted.
“So he went to the Chisolm,” she whispered.
“Aye, he did. He borrowed a large amount of coin to help dig our way out of the hole he had dug.”
“But the Chisolm expected father’s allegiance in exchange.”
Her perfect father had betrayed everyone for a bit of coin. Grief crept into her heart, but not for her father. Nay, she grieved for many reasons; the loss of their once good reputation, but mostly, the loss of so many innocent lives.
If Aeschene had learned anything in the week since the kidnappings, it was that she was far stronger and more intelligent than she had ever given herself credit for.
For months she had been making strides in showing her clans people that she was someone they could trust. In Richard’s absence, she had earned their faith and fealty. It had helped that she had met with her brother Willem out in the open, instead of behind closed doors.
“Ye must be exhausted,” she told him. “Please, stay and rest.”
“I confess, I have nae slept much these past few days,” Willem told her.
Hearing the exhaustion in his voice clarified her assumption. “I fear we are bursting’ at the seams, but I think ye could find a pallet in the armory.”
“I will rest for a bit,” he told her. “But I cannae tarry long.”
Giving instructions to one of her men, Willem was escorted below stairs to the armory. After he was gone, Marisse helped her pen a letter to her mother, offering her condolences. She also wrote to her brother, Darrin. Willem could deliver both missives in person.
The second letter was the most important. In it, she asked her eldest brother for his support and whatever assistance he could give as it pertained to the kidnappings. Aeschene could only hope and pray Darrin would agree to assist in her plan to get her husband back. God only knew what would happen if he refused her plea for help. If he was sincere in his desire to prove himself as an honorable man and chief as well as regain the good reputation the MacRay name used to possess, then helping the MacCulloughs was a good first step.
She refused to show any outward sign of disquiet or worry. In truth, she was far too busy listening to her clans people, making sure they were fed and comfortable.
As she had done every night since their capture, she cried herself to sleep. She missed Richard so much it left a physical ache in her stomach. When she thought of him, she inevitably thought of Colyne. She could only imagine the hell and torment they were going through.
Refusing to even entertain the thought that all or any one of them had already been killed, she chose to imagine they were hale and hearty and soon, very soon, they would be returned to her. They would soon be reunited and could put this entire ordeal behind them.
She would pretend Richard was right beside her, his big arms wrapped around her as they slept. He was going to make a wonderful father and they would have many more children together. She would accept nothing less than that.
’Twas much easier keeping her worries at bay and her thoughts positive whilst awake. Her dreams were where her true fears became alive and vivid. In them, Richard, Colyne, and Rory were all dead. In some of her dreams, their heads were on pikes. In others, they were hanging from trees, their lifeless bodies swaying in the breeze as the scavengers picked at their carcasses. The only common thread with any of the haunting dreams was that she was alone. Adrift at sea in a tiny boat, surrounded by frigid mist and darkness.
This night was no different than all the others, with vivid, terrifying dreams that left her soaked in sweat and trembling with fright. Each time she closed her eyes, the images from the dreams would creep in, making it nearly impossible to fall back to sleep.
Dawn was just breaking over the horizon when Marisse and Keevah came into her room. She was already awake, her dreams this night had been relentless.
“Ye need to come below stairs at once,” Marisse told her as she pulled a dress from a peg.
“What is wrong?” She asked as she slid from the bed. Her feet stung as soon as they touched the cold floor.
“Two of our men just arrived from our eastern border,” Keevah told her.
“Apparently, Randall Chisolm has set up an encampment there,” Marisse added.
“An encampment?” Aeschene’s stomach tightened. Encampments meant war. “How big?”
As Keevah pulled the woolens over Aeschene’s feet, Marisse helped her into her dress. She specifically chose the deep red wool for this occasion, believing it made Aeschene look taller, more regal and powerful.
“I dunnae ken,” Marisse said. “But it cannae be good.”
Below stairs, Lachlan, Daniel, and five other warriors surrounded Randall Chisolm’s messenger. He was a young man, no more than seven and ten, according to Marisse’s description. He sported long blond hair and blue eyes, and had the habit of stammering and licking his lips. Of course, that could be due to the fact that Lachlan, Daniel and the other warriors were a head taller than he. Or it could be due to the fact they each bore murderous glowers.
Marisse guided Aeschene toward the hulking mass of men and cleared her throat to make their presence known. Three of the men stepped aside so that the lad could see Aeschene. Lachlan and Daniel, however, each took a tight hold of the young man’s arms.
“He is right in front of ye, about six steps,” Marisse whispered.
“What is yer message,” Aeschene asked, affecting an air that said she was beyond perturbed by his presence.
The boy swallowed hard before he replied. “I, that is to say, the Chisolm, he is ready to give ye his ransom demands.”
“Well, then give them,” Lachlan said as he shoved the lad with his shoulder.
“I, that is to say, the Chisolm, he says to tell ye, he will only give ye his demands to ye in person.”
“Young man, I am blind,” Aeschene told him. “But I will assume ’twas me ye were speaking to?”
“She is m’lady to ye, ye swine,” Daniel said with a hard shove against the young man’s shoulder.
“Beggin’ my pardon, m’lady,” the young man quickly added. “But aye, he says to tell ye he wishes to meet with ye, m’lady, in person to discuss terms.”
Her warriors were keeping any opinions regarding her meeting with the Chisolm closely guarded secrets. The entire room was silent, save for the crackling fire in the hearth.