After giving Angus a look that told him he should be ashamed of himself, Morag turned and stamped out of the room. Behind him, the three men were laughing and toasting one another, and congratulating Angus on what he’d done.
Angus could stand no more and left the room, but he paused on the stairs. When she’d fled the room he’d seen tears in her eyes. He’d never before made a woman cry.
When he heard a noise, he glanced up the stairs and thought he saw the edge of her skirt. He knew the keep well enough that he was sure her room was on the fourth floor, but he’d seen her above that. Where was she going? The second he thought the question, he knew the answer. She was going to the roof. But why? She was already so cold she was shivering. A frightening thought came to him, that she was going to the roof to throw herself off. In the next moment he was taking the stairs two at a time.
When he got to the roof, there she was, standing near the edge, a low stone wall the only thing between her and the courtyard a long way below.
When she heard the door, she turned, saw him, and her shoulders slumped. “Did you come up here to gloat, to glory in what you’ve achieved?”
“No,” he said. “I came here to see if you were all right.”
“And what do you care? You’ve been as intolerable to me as my uncle. All the Scots have been so kind, except for you. You—” She waved her hand, as though she couldn’t think of anything bad enough to say to him.
“I think you should go downstairs and get on some dry clothes.” Slowly, he was moving toward her. If she made a sudden move to jump, he was going to be close enough to catch her.
She didn’t move, didn’t look at him. “You were probably right to throw me into a horse trough. I wish you’d thrown me off the top of this falling down pile of rocks. In fact, I should do it myself.”
“What could make you want to do something like that?” Angus asked, truly aghast at what she was saying. “You’ll not get into Heaven if you take your own life.”
“Wherever I go, it won’t be worse than here.”
“What could be so bad, lass?” His voice was soft; he didn’t want to scare her.
“You know Uncle Neville’s friends, those two downstairs, Alvoy and Ballister?”
“Aye, I do.”
“Tell me what you think of them.”
He was standing just a few feet from her now so he felt he could relax. He could catch her if she tried to jump. As for her question, he wasn’t about to answer it honestly. Maybe Shamus was right and Lawler didn’t like his niece, but Angus knew he didn’t feel that way about his two despicable friends and she might repeat what Angus said.
“Come on,” she said. “You can tell me. After what we’ve been through today, you can be honest with me. Would you like either of those men as your friend? Would you trust either of them?”
“No,” he said cautiously, “I can’t say that I would, but I’m a Scot. I don’t trust any Englishman.” He’d hoped to distract her from this line of questioning, but she wasn’t deterred.
“Do you think they’re smart?”
“That depends on what you call smar
t. They’re both cunning, that’s for sure. They tell your uncle what he wants to hear so they get free room and board—and no work.”
She nodded, as though she agreed with that. “What about kindness? Pleasant company?”
“I can’t say that they are to me, but your uncle likes them well enough.” He didn’t know if it was the anger that seemed to be surging through her, but she was no longer shivering, even though her clothes were still sopping wet. “It’s not for me to give advice, but if I were in your place I’d steer clear of both of those men. I don’t think they’re who a young girl should spend her time with.”
“Now that will be a problem because my uncle says I’m to marry one of them.”
Angus looked at her in shock, unable to say anything. Her beauty matched with either of those dreadful men who sponged off of her uncle was not something he wanted to contemplate.
She didn’t turn to look at him, just kept staring at the courtyard below. “In four days I’ll turn eighteen and my uncle’s guardianship will end. He plans for me to marry one of those men at one minute after midnight, then my dowry will belong to my husband, who has made an agreement to give it back to my uncle.”
Angus grimaced. It was a very bad situation, but there was nothing he could do about it. “Ah, lass, that is a hard one.”
She turned to look up at him, her blue eyes pleading. “Help me escape. Please.”
“I can’t do that,” Angus said as he took a step back from her. “This is my home. These are my people.”
“I know that. It’s why I’ve asked you for help. People have told me they depend on you. You’re the McTern of McTern, aren’t you?”