Chapter Fifteen
Giselle tried to get out of bed, but she was too listless. She had been in and out of sleep for a while but was reluctant to get up and face the Buchanan’s. Her mind sought rest and relief from worrying, if only for a few sweet moments. It was cosy in bed, with the blankets pulled up over her head. They smelled of lavender and pine, fresh out of the chest where they had been stored, no doubt. The sun was streaming in through the shutters. It must be late in the day. Soon, someone would come looking for her.
The chamber was small but clean, the rushes on the floor fragrant. A scrawny cat was hunched by the hearth, gulping down a plate of bread and cheese. Did they give her that last night, when they locked her up here? Who let the cat in? She could scarce remember. Where was Lyall? Did he now have no care for her welfare? Would he wait for her ransom to come or would he be gone soon, leaving her to her fate? Oh, it was all so uncertain.
Giselle was only sure of one thing. These Buchanans were hostile, and did not trust her, which was why they had put her out of the way. They were deciding what to do with her, and she was in danger again.
A key turned in the lock, and the door banged open and the dark-haired woman she had seen when they arrived, strode in. Giselle was once again struck by her rounded belly and striking looks. What a fiercely beautiful face she had, with her grey eyes and dark brows. Her skin had a glow to it, from her pregnancy no doubt. She looked forceful and proud, and not at all like the soft, delicate women Giselle had grown up with.
‘You are awake, good,’ she said briskly. ‘I am Ravenna, wife of Lyall’s brother Cormac.’
Giselle sat up, smoothing down her hair, and regarded the woman warily.
‘Was our fare not good enough for a baron’s daughter?’ said Ravenna, glancing at the cat. She aimed a kick at its bony haunches. It hissed and backed away.
‘I…I fell asleep before I could eat, and when I woke, the cat had got there first.’
Ravenna regarded her stonily and frowned.
Giselle tried hard not to be intimidated. ‘For your kindness in giving me food and a bed for the night, I thank you, Ravenna?’
‘Well, we weren’t about to let you starve, even if you are English. It has been agreed between Cormac and Lyall that your stay with us is to be more than one night, so this chamber will be yours, until your ransom is paid, and you go back home. As that may take some time, you should try and make the best of it.’
‘Yes, I will. Where is Lyall?’
‘Gone.’
‘Gone where?’ asked Giselle, with a sinking heart.
‘Hunting. Cormac has not seen his brother for two years and wants to welcome him home with a feast tonight if they manage to catch anything. They’ll not return for hours, and, before they do, you need a bath, for you are not fit to be seen.’
Humiliation gnawed at Giselle. ‘I wouldn’t look so bad if I hadn’t been attacked and kidnapped and dragged here against my will.’
‘No, I suppose that’s no fault of yours. Lyall hasn’t touched you, has he?’ asked Ravenna, narrowing her eyes.
‘No!’ said Giselle, trying hard to block out the memory of his searching hands all over her wet body.
‘Good, for if he had, I should have to take a stick to him,’ said Ravenna, to Giselle’s surprise. ‘Now come, let’s get the muck off you.’
Ravenna flung a blanket around Giselle’s shoulders and led her outside. Down in the yard, she had to run the gauntlet of stares all around her from the Clan Buchanan. She noticed that the defences of Beharra were in good order, the palisade stout, well capable of holding off an attack. There were a good number of sturdy outbuildings dotted around and, from what she could see from a distance, the stables looked orderly and well-maintained. Not like Wulversmeade, with its crumbling walls and air of neglect.
Giselle risked speaking. ‘Lyall’s home, it’s a fine place.’
‘Did you expect us Scots to live in muddy hovels? Did you think us all savages who live like pigs, you English?’
‘I did not know what to think. I heard stories about Scots.’
‘Here,’ said Ravenna, entering a low building, humid with wet laundry hanging everywhere. There was a half-barrel full of water with steam coming off it, and a servant came running in with more water in a bucket.
‘Get in,’ said Ravenna.
‘With you here?’
‘Aye, unless you have a forked tail under your dress, you’ll have nothing I haven’t seen before.’
Giselle had no choice but to peel off her clothes and step into the barrel. Ravenna frowned at her naked body, so Giselle got into the water as quickly as possible, gasping at how hot it was. Her skin turned pink, but the water felt like heaven against her aching muscles.
The relaxation did not last, as Ravenna took hold of a rag, and started scrubbing her so hard she thought her skin might come off, all the while interrogating her.