Chapter Twenty-Nine
Stirling’s Castle’s rat-infested bowels were a stark contrast to the ornate beauty of the throne room and the oak-panelled chambers above. A maze of dank stone corridors and low ceilings spread out in all directions, festooned with cobwebs in dark, secret corners. The air was rank with damp, and it was deathly cold for the sunlight did not penetrate.
Above him, all was rush and bustle as the castle’s occupants made ready to go to war. Below, it was quiet and deserted, eerie echoes tricked the mind, as shadows clawed their way across walls. It was the perfect place to meet and not be seen, but he hated having to bring Giselle to such a gloomy place. How had their lives been reduced to this - a furtive meeting in a dismal tomb?
Lyall stood in the large chamber which served as the grain store, watching his breath leave his mouth in a white fog. He shivered in the cold, willing her to come. He had not slept a wink and had taken to pacing the battlements relentlessly, tormented and railing against his life. Every instinct shouted at him to grab Giselle and run, as far as they could, away from the King and Stirling and Banan. Treason was a small price to pay for love, wasn’t it?
Instead, reason had triumphed, and Lyall had plotted and planned, and, at first light, he had witnessed Banan MacGregor ride out on his mission for Lord Douglas. Giselle would be in great danger if Banan found out they had met, so he had wanted to make absolutely sure his enemy had gone.
A footfall sounded behind him, and she was there, making his heart thud and his breath catch.
‘Giselle, you came.’
‘How could I not? You look thinner,’ she said, in a rush.
‘Aye, so do you.’ he replied.
‘Your face?’
‘Cormac laid me flat, to stop me racing here to free you.’
‘He was right to do it.’
‘No, he wasn’t. Forgive me, Giselle, for leaving you in that bastard’s hands so long.’
Lyall went to take her in his arms, but she backed away.
‘Stop. Don’t.’
‘Giselle?’
Her face was stricken. ‘I know you mean to comfort me, but you cannot, Lyall. Stay away from me, please.’
‘What is this? Giselle?’ He took hold of her, and she flinched. ‘What is wrong with you?’ Anger flared when she would not look at him. ‘I came to tell you that I will free you, I swear.’
‘You cannot free me, and I should not have come here today.’
‘Do you not care for me, now you are Lady MacGregor?’
Giselle tore from his grip and walked away from him, wrapping her arms around herself. ‘I wanted to see you one last time to say goodbye.’
How cold her voice was.
‘This is not you, Giselle. No one is listening, you can speak to me freely, he is gone. I saw Banan ride out myself.’
‘It is not that I fear for myself, Lyall.’ She took a deep breath. ‘See here, I am wed now and reconciled to it. I wish you happiness and love in your life, but it cannot be with me. That is all over now. It is best we forget each other. I wish you good fortune in the war to come. If you would do one thing for me, survive it, please.
‘Stop this. Don’t speak to me as if we are strangers. We don’t have much time, and you must talk to me, for I love you. I love you, Giselle.’
‘Much good it has done either of us,’ she replied. ‘I am done with love.’
‘No, you are not.’
Lyall took hold of her by the arms and kissed her hard, but there was no response. Giselle’s lips were unmoving and cold as if she did not feel anything. His chest tightened with hurt and disappointment.
‘Take your hands off me,’ she said, and he did.
‘What has Banan done to bring such coldness towards me, Giselle?’