Had she blinked, Aileana would have missed the loathing apparent in the glare Gawain directed at her aunt. When Aunt Sheena turned back from surveying the guests, Gawain had smoothed his features with a tight smile. Aileana’s flesh broke out in goosebumps.
“My sincerest apologies again, my lady, for my impudence,” he said. “I humbly beg your apology.”
“My betrothed’s history is of no consequence to me, dear cousin. Only his future concerns me,” Aileana said and turned toward Sheena who smiled and nodded.
Gawain unsettled her.
Or did the topic unsettle her?
Either way, she would not continue this discussion. Sheena engaged her in an exchange about the wonderful springing time thus far. She settled into a conversation designed to prove her extensive knowledge of the estate’s tenants and its production. In the end, she feared Gawain’s comments would remain forever branded on her guest’s minds.
The rest of the dinner improved her spirits somewhat. The servants produced bowls of steaming roasted pheasant and vegetable stew served with heaping platters of warm bread for soaking. The main course consisted of succulent wild deer, roasted pig and duck complimented by baked puddings, roasted vegetables and large drawing bowls of dark gravy. Warm mead and wine flowed free and no goblet fell below half full. Trays of wild berry pies, layered custard cakes and cream-filled pastries completed a grand feast she was proud of.
Though the mood was somewhat somber, everyone complimented the servant’s hard work. After dinner, most of her guests paid their respects and retired to their rooms for the remainder of the evening. Fear of an attack had doused the merriment from earlier that afternoon. Those who remained joined Aileana and Sheena on large cushion-covered, wooden benches, which were arranged near the stone hearth. Thankfully, Gawain had chosen to retire with the majority of the other guests. When he kissed her hand goodnight, her hair prickled at the nape.
Once she retired, Aileana lie in her bed listening to the noiseless night and couldn’t help but pull the covers right up to her chin. The longer she spent in Gawain’s company, the more uncomfortable she became. He’d watched her, just as James had earlier, but his gaze did not excite her - it scared her. She stood the two men side by side in her mind and the effect was rather startling.
The cold look Gawain had given her a few days ago and his almost too smooth demeanour tonight were sides of him she’d never seen. Was this the true Gawain, dark and false? Was the loss of the estate and betrothal to her such a blow to him, his entire person had changed?
The two men were so different. Would she ever understand either? Aileana relaxed and drifted toward the edge of sleep all the while wishing James would resolve the issue with the raiders and return by daybreak.
She awoke as soon as the hidden door on the tower stairs creaked. Aileana held her breath, but the sound of a boot scuff on the stone floor near her bed brought her straight upright. Her heart pummelled. Before she could scream, she was bound and gagged where she sat. The darkness prevented her from seeing who would dare such an act. Her breaths were short and laboured and tremors shook her body as they wound rope around her arms and legs. Her stomach burned with fear. She struggled as they dragged her from her bed into the narrow passageway. Her arms were looped around her captor’s neck while he crept through the channel leading outside. She knew this route, but hadn’t used it since she was a girl.
They made almost no sound and she tried to sway her body to break free, but the man whose back she rested on was large and held her still. Her face was forced into his hair and the scent was clean. Lavender? This must be a dream. No, it was her worst nightmare.
Once outside the castle boundaries the man broke into a run. She bounced up and down and was sure her arms would pull from their sockets. Just when she couldn’t take any further punishment, she was lifted off his back, her arms re-bound, she was then placed into a cart and covered with layers of canvas.
Her nostrils filled with the stench of rotten cabbage. She was going to vomit if she didn’t get the gag out of her mouth soon. Aileana managed to slip her bound arms from behind her back, down across her body and work her feet through the loop. Once in front of her, she used her hands and teeth to work at the gag and loosen the ropes around her wrists.
Free from her bondage, her body convulsed. She had feared little in her life. Her uncle had not often raised his voice to her, much less his hand.
Somewhere between shock and hysteria, conversations in her mind consumed her about what to do. Much of the grief and anxiety she had repressed over the last few days found a feeding ground. Her anxiety escalated causing icicles to settle in her stomach.