He entered the Great Hall shocked at what he saw. A hot rage raced through him. It was not a servant his mother was striking repeatedly across the back—it was Annis. She laid over a servant protecting her.
“STOP!” Brogan raged, the veins in his neck pounding in fury. He went to his mother, grabbed the stick from her hand, broke it over his knee, and tossed to the flames in the hearth. He hurried to Annis.
“Is there blood?” she asked, keeping her eyes squeezed shut.
A quick glance had him saying, “Nay, no blood.”
She sighed with relief and moved to get up and cringed from the pain that shot through her back.
“Easy,” Brogan said as he eased her gently off the lass beneath her.
“Please, my lord, help me,” the lass begged as Brogan moved Annis off her.
Annis answered for him. “Of course, Lord Brogan will help you. Pack your belongings. You and your husband will come with us.”
Tears trailed down the lass’s face. “My husband took ill and died two weeks ago.”
“Get up, Damia, and return to work,” his mother ordered. “I will deal with you later. Brogan, explain yourself.”
“Please do not tell me that wretched woman is your mother,” Annis whispered when she was finally on her feet.
Brogan nodded as he helped Damia to her feet.
“Please, my lord,” Damia begged in a murmur. “The bairn is all I have left of my husband. I do not want to lose him.”
“You will suffer for speaking to Lord Brogan without permission,” his mother called out.
Brogan wanted to snatch Annis up in his arms and run out of there, though he would not leave Damia behind. He often thought his mother punished the servants who were with child worse than the others. He believed it made her angry to see women round with child when she had been able to only carry and deliver one bairn.
He turned to his mother. “Damia will not suffer, and she will not be remaining here. She will come with me.”
“She most certainly will not,” his mother said, her eyes raging with anger.
Annis could see that at one time Brogan’s mother was an attractive woman, no more. Her face was pinched tight and heavy with wrinkles from scowling so much and her gray hair was pulled back far too tightly, almost as if she was trying to force the wrinkles out of her brow.
“Speak to your wife, Father,” Brogan said, though it was more a command.
“Faline, be still,” Lord Balloch ordered firmly, then whispered something to her.
Brogan’s mother’s eyes went wide, and she cast a slow glance over Annis, shook her head, and walked out of the room.
“Take Damia with you and I expect word from you soon,” his father said, then turned and left the room.
Annis’s back stung with every step she took, and she did her best not to let her discomfort show as the small group gathered to make ready to leave.
Una hurried to her and seeing that she had been talking to Damia and the worry in her eyes, it was obvious Una had learned what happened.
“Are you all right?” Una asked when she stopped in front of Annis.
“I am good. How is Damia?” Annis asked, having made sure Damia spoke with Una to see if Damia was in need of a healer.
“She is well, thanks to you. She says she owes you her and her bairn’s life.”
“I would argue otherwise if I had not seen how crazed Lady Faline was or felt the fierce strikes of her stick.” She cringed, her back suddenly stinging her.
“I will tend your back as soon as we reach home,” Una said.
“Is there anything you can do for her now, Una?” Brogan asked, coming up behind Annis. “The journey home is bound to cause her more pain.”
“I’m afraid not, but perhaps the healer here could provide some relief for Annis,” Una suggested.
Brogan shook his head. “Nay, I would not trust Annis’s care to her.”
“Worry not. I am good, and eager to get home,” Annis said, not comfortable with causing anyone worry. Though, she could not help but think that she wished Bliss was with her. She would see Annis healed well. “Una says Damia does well.”
Una confirmed with a nod.
“Damia does not want to return home with us,” Brogan said.
“She cannot mean to remain here,” Annis said, alarmed at the thought.
“Nay, she asked me if she could go to her family, her sister and her grandfather. They reside at Clan MacClaren,” Brogan said.
“Rannick’s clan,” Annis said
Brogan nodded. “I agreed and I am sending a warrior to escort her there. I told him to find out whatever he could about Bliss.”
A smile burst across Annis’s face and instinct had her ready to reach out and hug him. She stopped when she saw Risley approach, and she was glad she did. It would be wrong to display such intimacy here where tongues would be sure to tell his parents. His father was ruthless enough to use such a display as a way to force them to wed. She did not want to be forced. She would wed a man of her own choice. Her sister had sacrificed for her to be able to do just that and she would not allow her sister’s sacrifice to be for naught.