"Lady Annalía, thank you for allowing us to stay here," Niall said.
"She didn't," Court informed them. "She wants all of us gone."
She put her chin up. "Mr. MacCarrick, my first priority is to the people of this place. Even if you are not allied with Pascal any longer, your presence still jeopardizes everyone here."
Court gave a harsh laugh. "Now that sounds very noble, but why do you no' tell them what you told me at the door? You want us gone to preserve appearances."
She didn't back down. "That is important as well. If my reputation is tarnished, I will not be able to make the match that is expected of me."
Niall muttered, "Court, she's right - "
He interrupted, "You were planning to ask me for something tonight, were you no'? Do it now."
She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it and turned her face away.
"Perhaps in the morning you'll be inclined to make your request. Perhaps we'll be inclined to hear it - if we stay here."
She faced him again. "Very well, stay. We can speak when I return - "
"You stay here, too."
She straightened her choker, appearing so miserable he almost relented. He could feel his men watching him and her, knew they were confounded by his behavior.
She swallowed and then said in a pained tone, "Yes, of course. I extend my welcome to your men and look forward to our meeting."
"Go to bed, Annalía. You'll need your rest after the night we've had." She looked like she'd been struck, gasping a breath before sweeping from the room.
Niall didn't wait until she was even out of earshot. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Doona start on me. She's no' as helpless as she appears and she's been insulting me regularly for a week." When Niall looked unconvinced, Court added, "She's calculating and she's spoiled, and tonight she sought to manipulate me, cutting her teeth and testing her wiles." He ran a hand over the back of his neck, uneasy because he knew if she'd had any experience...she could've worked him like dough. "It was no' right."
Niall shook his head. "I doona believe I've ever seen you treat a lass this poorly."
"That's because you've no' met a woman like her. I'm telling you, you've never known such an arrogant female in your life. Tomorrow you'll see."
Chapter Seven
A nnalía had awakened before dawn to wretched memories of her deeds the night before.
She'd known several unsavory things about her character. She'd realized flaws in her morality - apparently inherent flaws. Now she knew another fact: In the presence of whisky, the simple application of a man's lips to her own, and then to her chest, induced her to lose her mind.
And this morning she would have to ask that Philistine for his help in front of his hulking...associates. She would force herself to do it, even though she knew that if he did decide to help her, he would first make her...grovel.
But by no means did she count on his assistance. Before the sun had risen, she'd dragged Vitale from bed and instructed him to have Iambe ready. She was due at Pascal's today, and if she couldn't persuade the Highlander to help her, then she was gone. She'd left her travel bags in the stable, confident that if she needed to leave in a hurry, she could.
Yet Vitale had quarreled with her over her plan because he didn't want her to leave under any circumstances, whether she could sway the mercenaries or not.
Even lusty old Vitale feared what a monster like Pascal would do to her on their wedding night. She wasn't as nervous as she had been, though. She quite liked kissing, and that had been with a ruffian she loathed. The rumors had it that Pascal was very meticulous about his dress and cleanliness, so truly, how much worse could it be?
She'd returned to her room before the Highlanders had risen and had taken extra care with her hair and dress. Now that she heard them milling about, she descended.
When she approached the parlor, she had to bite her tongue to keep from screeching at their boots on the table, at the smell of tobacco cloying inside the room, at the food they'd already rooted through.
Mare de Déu! There were empty bottles of wine everywhere. She glanced around, eyes wide. Had more Highlanders come in the night? No, just the six of them had run through the abundant supply in the sideboard and raided their collection in the cellar.
They saw her then, and she forced a smile to her face. "Good morning, gentlemen," she said, pleasantly enough. When they stood and seemed as if they might approach her, no doubt to touch her hands again, she backed to the doorway and pressed her palms against the molding behind her. "I trust you slept well."
"Aye. Thank you for your hospitality." She thought that one was Niall. They'd introduced themselves last night, but all their names had sounded the same, alike in their oddness and unfamiliarity. More ridiculous, every surname began with Mac.
"Should we no' cut through the chatter and get to what you wanted to ask me?" MacCarrick muttered. He appeared exhausted, his eyes bloodshot again, and when she'd walked in he'd been rubbing his forehead.
A brittle smile. "Of course, Mr. MacCarrick. Your directness is always...refreshing."
He raised his eyebrows. "Refreshing, is it now? How did you put it before? Aye, I remember. You said my people lacked delicacy."
She could feel herself blushing. These mercenaries looked embarrassed for her. She hated this man. Hated him. But she would do whatever it took to help Aleix. Remember that, Annalía. "I would like to hire you to help me and my family."
He smirked, clearly relishing her discomfiture. "And just what would you have us do?"
She was a private and mistrustful person by nature, and above all else she was proud, but she would have to overcome these traits for they didn't serve her now. "M-My brother, Aleixandre Llorente, has been captured by Pascal."
She scanned the room to see their reactions. The youngest one was about to say something, but then there was a sound under the table, as if he'd been kicked. He shut his mouth. What had he been about to tell her? Did he know something?
MacCarrick insolently waved her on, and with effort she continued, "He is the only family I have left, and he is in Pascal's jail. I would pay to have him freed. I would pay more than Pascal."
MacCarrick asked, "Why would you think he's still alive?"
She felt the blood leaving her face at the thought of Aleix dead, and to her shame her eyes watered. She found herself twining her fingers in front of her, then forced her hands to her sides.
The older man hissed something to MacCarrick in a foreign language.
MacCarrick shot him a look and snapped, "It's a valid question."
She didn't know how to handle these people. She'd been taught a perfect stitch and elegant table manners, but no one had instructed her on how to negotiate with ruthless men. Her idea of trying to manipulate MacCarrick with a kiss last night had been laughably far off the mark, but if she was as everyone thought, then why hadn't it worked? "He will be alive because he has value to Pascal. The people here love him and would do anything for him. The general will use that as leverage over them."
"Why does he need leverage over them, when he's already terrorized them into submission?" MacCarrick asked as he leaned back in his seat. He sounded gloating about the fact.
"He terrorized them? Or his lackeys terrorized them?" She regretted her words the second she said them.
He glanced around to the men with his eyebrows raised as if she'd just proven some theory, then his lips curled into a mean, mocking smirk. "Run along, Annalía. We'll be here for only a few days more."
This cretin was ordering her in her own home, and yet she pleaded, "But I will pay you!"
"Do you have coin on the property?"
"No, but I have jewelry. Priceless jewelry."
He gave her a patronizing expression. "And where could we sell that around here?"
"Then my fortune. If you free Aleix, he can get it for you. I'll give it freely."
"Canna imagine your 'fortune' would be the kind of money we usually command."
"That's because your imagination is limited!" When the man called Niall and two others chuckled, she again commanded herself to bite her tongue. "Take anything you like in this house, anything! I'm sure you could find your pay here."
"Anything, then?" he asked with a strange expression. Niall shook his hung head, then rose to leave. The four followed him out.