She'd closed the gates against him.
In spite of the messenger sent with the news of the
Bruce's victory over her father, she refused him entrance
into Dunstaffnage Castle. Sebastien was definitely leaning
toward the "dead" portion of his orders from the king as
he sat outside the main gate. Letting out an exasperated
breath, he motioned to one of the men surrounding the
three sides of the castle facing the land, and nodded.
Peering up to the battlements, he could see the eldest
daughter of John MacDougall watching his every move. He
pushed the helm and mail off his head and waited for their
weapon to be brought forward. His horse danced beneath
him, probably feeling the strain of the battle of wills
going on around it. Sebastien was certainly feeling it.
With the glare of the sun behind her, he could not quite
get a clear look at his adversary.
Hearing the noises behind him, he moved over a few paces
so that their hostages were clearly visible to all
watching from the upper levels of the castle. The
commotion behind him increased and he watched as Lara
MacDougall drew nearer to the edge of the crenellated wall
and looked over. She grabbed hold of the stone as though
she needed support.
If he'd been the one watching his younger siblings wrapped
in chains and dragged by the heavily armed warriors of
their deadliest enemy, he might react badly, too. The
young boy and girl were also screeching loud enough to be
heard by anyone within miles.
His quarry stepped back from the wall and he lost sight of
her for a minute before she leaned out again. Sebastien
could hear the argument going on, but could not make out
the words. The only thing he could tell was that not
everyone was in agreement with whatever she planned to do.
He realized that he had not heard her voice yet, for
earlier her steward had called out her responses to his
demands.
"What are your terms?" she called now.
Sebastien laughed aloud before answering. "Terms? I will
not kill these two if you open the gates immediately.
Delay and I will not even promise that." He dismounted and
his squire ran forward to take control of the horse from
him. "I am tired and not in good humor, lady. If you make
me fight my way in, I also promise that you will bear the
consequences."
The air was filled with expectation as everyone waited.
Sebastien had no doubt that she would order the gates
open. Her brother and sister had told him that much on the
ride here. They'd revealed that she'd always stood between
them and danger, but this time, in trying to send them
away from danger, she'd inadvertently placed them in the
path of it.
Sebastien had been honest, though; he was tired and wanted
to bring this to an end. He wanted nothing so much as a
hot bath to rid himself of the odors and filth of battle
and blood, and the sooner he got inside, the sooner he
might have exactly that. Of course, depending on her
actions, he might have one more messy task to accomplish
for his king before he bathed.
She disappeared from the battlements and he heard her
calling out orders as she ran. He put his helmet back on
and mounted again, for it was better to face enemies well-
armed and from the back of a horse than on the ground.
With a wave of his hand, his men regrouped around him and
the children were moved to the back, out of danger from
misfired arrows or misguided men.
Would she feel humiliated when she discovered the truth of
his treatment of her siblings? How would she react when he
offered her the choice that Robert had demanded only hours
ago — wed or dead? Now, after seeing her valiant efforts
to defend her home, he was certain it would not be an easy
thing to carry out her execution. He would, of course, if
she did not consent to the marriage, but it would be more
difficult than following other orders from the Bruce.
The scraping of wood and metal filled the air as the
portcullis was raised and the gates pulled open. Then,
with loud squealing, the drawbridge was lowered to the
ground. Two guards marched forward with one woman between
them. Sebastien was tempted to laugh again, but spared his
adversary the humiliation. As if these two men could
protect her against anything he wanted to do… The small
group stopped after crossing the bridge and stepping onto
the rocky ground surrounding the MacDougall fortress.
"Secure the castle," Sebastien called out without ever
lifting his gaze from her face. A troop of his men rode
forward, the hooves of their horses clattering on the wood
of the drawbridge.
She looked as though she wanted to say something, but
hesitated. Now that he could see her features, he realized
she was younger than he'd first thought. She wore a plain
gown and had her blond hair pulled back and woven into a
long thick braid. But the hautiness and arrogance of the
MacDougall was etched on her face.
Sebastien dismounted once more and approached her. Her
expression displayed a hint of fear as he drew near, and
then she seemed to control it.
"How many years have you?" He scrutinized her face and
form as he asked. "Twas difficult to tell from just
looking. He reached up and removed the helmet he wore and
pushed his hair and the mail over it back off his head.
"Enough to know that only one of the Bruce's minions would
use children as his shield…."
Her words drifted off as he dropped his helm and reached
out to take hold of her face. Pulling her by her chin, he
dragged her close enough so that only she could hear his
words. Staring directly into her cold blue eyes, he
clarified her new position so there would be no mistake.
"Speak carefully, lady. To insult me is to insult the
Bruce. And he now rules Dunstaffnage — and you."
Her face blanched and she reached up to pull his hand
away. Although her touch sent shivers down his spine, the
look of hatred in her eyes shocked him. Was it meant for
him or for Robert? Sebastien released her and sent her
stumbling back a few paces.
"I would see my brother and sister." It was a demand, with
no acceptance in her tone that he was the victor here.
"I think not." They had business to conclude before he
would surrender his leverage.
"You think to keep them prisoner? Will you throw them in
the cell that opens to the ocean's winds? Will you keep
them wrapped in chains…?"
He grabbed her once more. She challenged him with every
word she spoke and, in spite of a certain exhilaration he
felt because of it, he could not allow that to happen.
This time he used both hands to take her by the shoulders.
"Until we finish our business, you will go nowhere but
where I take you, and do nothing that I do not tell you to
do."
He drew her closer until only inches separated their
faces. Suddenly he was fighting an urge to kiss her
instead of threaten her. Tamping down that desire, he
gritted his teeth and forced out the words of his orders
from the Bruce.
"The Bruce has taken your father prisoner and I hold your
siblings and this castle for Robert. You have the choice
of what happens to them."
"I have the choice?" Her voice came out as a stuttering
whisper. He could see the fear in her eyes now.
"You will be wed or dead by nightfall — it is up to you."
All the color left her face and she looked as though she
might faint. After a few moments, she spoke.
"Wed or dead? Who will carry out this sentence?"
"You will wed me or be dead by my hand, lady. Choose now."
Lara MacDougall could not speak. As most of those living
at Dunstaffnage knew, that did not happen often. She
stared up at the face of her enemy and could not believe
the words he had just said. Wed him or die? Today?
She shook her head, simply not able to comprehend the
reasons behind his supposed orders from the Bruce. Pah!
The Bruce? How dare he think he had the right to rule
Scotland and especially this area! Her father had held
power here for so long she could not remember it ever
being any different. And who was this Sebastien of Cleish
to think that he was deserving of the hand of the Maid of
Lorne? Blinking, she shook her head again.
"Is that your answer? You would choose to die?" He
released her and she watched in horror as he stepped back
and pulled a long sword from its sheath. His brows
gathered in a mighty frown, but his intent was clear — her
death. Before she could protest or say anything, the
sounds of screaming emanated from the castle. Lara reacted
as she always did when her family or people were
threatened — she turned to run back inside to determine
the reason. Could the Bruce's men be killing those within?
Her young maid and some cousins had remained inside when
she'd left. Were they being attacked?
Her captor's arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her
back against his body. She tore at his hands and called
out her maid's name, trying to get free, but the brute's
strength was impressive. He hardly even moved as she
struggled. When she stopped for a moment, intending to try
again, he took her braid in his fist and pulled her head
toward his. His breath was hot against her neck and his
words were just as heated.
"You will get back inside either as my wife or in a wooden
box. No other way. Until you decide, you stay here." She
finally realized he meant what he said. She shivered in
fear as the words sank in. Before she could think about
her own situation, she must get his agreement to keep
those inside safe during his stay here.
"But the women inside…? What is happening to them?" She
almost feared asking the question, knowing what men in
battle did to their enemies' women afterward.
"They will not be harmed as long as they do not resist my
control over the keep. That is more than I can say for
your father's methods of occupation."
They stayed in this position for a few moments as she
considered his words. At least alive she could continue to
fight for her family. Alive, she could find a way to get
her brother and sister away from Dunstaffnage and to the
safety of her uncle's lands. Alive, she would…have to
marry a man who cared not if he took her as wife or took
her head for the Bruce.
But she would be alive, and that was all that mattered now.
"I choose…" She struggled to get the words out. In her
wildest imaginings and worst nightmares she had never
pictured this as her future — married on the orders of her
father's bitterest enemy. What kind of life would she have
to endure as this man's wife?
He eased his hold of her and she turned to face him. Her
gaze moved over his face and body. He was well-formed,
with a warrior's build. Although he was covered with sweat
and blood, she could not see any signs of disfigurement or
disease.
"I see no other way than to choose marriage to you." Lara
did not know what she had expected as a response to her
words, but the grunt and nod, followed by him walking off
toward the chapel, was not it. He called out orders to
those under his command who stood nearby as he strode
away. When he realized that she remained where he had left
her, he turned back to her.
"Come, lady. The priest awaits us in the chapel." With
barely a pause and a wave at her, he continued down the
worn path toward the stone building set off some distance
from the castle.