Page 70 of This Laird of Mine

Claire sighed as she ran her hands down the lovely dress she wore. The garment was not new, but it was the perfect dress for today. Jules had brought her a chest two days before that contained his mother’s wedding gown and veil. The pale blue gown with short puffed sleeves and a straight neckline had been well preserved. A seamstress had been hired to alter the fit, and it suited Claire’s taste to perfection.

She stood in the center of the bedchamber, admiring the exquisite brocade gown that was covered in an intricate pattern of silver thread and tiny seed pearls, feeling very much like a bride. All that remained was for one of the new maids to come and help her with her veil.

As if Claire’s thoughts had conjured her, Marie slipped into the room, her back turned and her arms full of the silky veil. A second servant followed behind her, a man dressed in stiff black and white.

A new footman? Claire frowned. She had yet to meet all the new staff. As soon as the wedding was behind them, she intended to get to know them all.

Marie turned around, although it wasn’t Marie. “Good morning, Claire.”

“Agatha,” Claire whispered. Claire had no time to say or do anything more as blinding pain crashed through her left temple.

Belowstairs and outside on the formal terrace, off the east side of the manor, Jules waited for his bride. He nervously smoothed the pleats of his tartan. He had dressed in his family’s colors today as a symbol of not only passing on his name, but also sharing with Claire the responsibility of the MacIntyre clan.

“Don’t worry,” David said beside him on his left. “It is fashionable for the bride to make the guests wait. She’ll be here and everything will be perfect.”

Jules tried to smile as his fingers fumbled with his sporran. Patience was never one of his virtues. Jules forced his idle hands behind his back. His heart raced in anticipation. His gaze fixed on the terrace doors.

A light breeze blew across the terrace and ruffled Penelope’s, Anna’s, and Eloise’s hair as they also waited, dressed in light purple gowns, for Claire to arrive. Fin waited next to the girls, smiling broadly. The servants hovered near the banquet table where they would retire as soon as the ceremony ended.

The minister stood on Jules’s right. He cleared his throat. “Should someone go see what is taking her so long?” The man peered over his spectacles, his brow raised in question.

Jules took a step toward the door, when it suddenly opened. But instead of Claire walking through, Agatha appeared, followed by a man who carried Claire, bound and gagged, in his arms. She was limp and unmoving.

“This was supposed to be one of the happiest days of your life, Jules.” Agatha smiled maliciously. “I am quite certain after I am done with you, it will be one of your worst.”

David started forward, but Agatha grabbed Eloise about the neck and held a slim, silver blade to the young girl’s throat.

Eloise’s eyes widened in terror and she started to cry. Her soft sobs filled the sudden silence.

Jules went rigid. His stomach churned in fear. “If Claire is dead or if you harm Eloise, I’ll kill you,” he growled despite his audience. He no longer cared what would happen to him, only that Claire and the girls would survive.

Agatha shrugged. “Perhaps I killed Claire, perhaps I didn’t. There is only one way to find out.”

“Put her down,” Jules demanded.

A new lackey Jules did not recognize dropped Claire on the floor at his feet. At the motion, her eyes opened, and she made a sound behind the gag in her mouth.

Dizzying relief poured through him as he knelt beside her. He jerked the gag out of her mouth. Claire instantly took a deep breath.

“For God’s sake, she couldn’t breathe, you barbaric monster.” Jules couldn’t resist the epithet.

“It might have been kinder had she died from suffocation . . .”

Penelope lurched forward, clutching her injured hand. “I won’t let you hurt her.”

Anna pulled her back. “No, Penelope. That won’t help the situation.”

The young woman was right. Jules needed them to fade into the background with the servants. He motioned to Anna, who understood his unspoken command, and she pulled Penelope farther away from Agatha and her henchman.

Jules’s hands trembled as he smoothed Claire’s hair away from her temples. “Did she hurt you?”

“Only my head.” Claire’s voice shook. “We hadn’t planned on this today, had we?”

“No.” Jules glared at Agatha over Claire’s body. “You have me. Let the rest of them go.”

Agatha’s smile was terrifying as she stroked Eloise’s neck with the knife blade. “I cannot do that, Jules, not when I’ve gone to all this trouble on your behalf. I’ve got everything planned, down to the last detail.”

Rage darkened Jules’s vision. “Go to hell.”