She was desperately trying to keep her wits about her. "How old are you?"
He told her, then painfully squeezed her arm.
Judith thought she was going to be sick. Douglas was five years older than she, and his eyes, dear God, his eyes were the same color as her own. Was his hair the exact shade, too? No, no, she told herself. Hers was much lighter.
She had to take a deep breath to keep herself from gagging. She slumped to the side of her saddle, close to Patrick's side.
Dear God, it was true. Douglas was her brother.
Patrick tried to put his arm around her. Douglas jerked her toward him, then lifted her from her mount and settled her in front of him.
"What the hell's wrong with her?" he asked.
No one answered him. Douglas growled in frustration. He still didn't know who the woman belonged to, but he recognized Patrick, all right.
"The Maitland laird will come after his brother," he told his men. "We'll be ready to give him a proper greeting. Bring them to my father's holding," he ordered with a nod toward Graham and Patrick.
The length of time it took to get to the Maclean keep was shortened considerably because they were able to ride directly there, across Dunbar land. Patrick memorized every detail on the way for future use.
Judith didn't pay any attention to where they were going. She kept her eyes tightly closed while she tried to sort out this god-awful situation in her mind.
She wanted to weep with shame over her mother's treachery. How could she abandon her child? Judith was so sickened inside, she could barely concentrate on anything but keeping her stomach settled.
As they rode, she wondered how Douglas would react if she threw up all over him.
She finally opened her eyes. He noticed. "Did the Maclean name scare you into a faint?"
"I didn't faint," she snapped. "I want to ride my own mount."
"I want you to stay here," he replied. "You're very beautiful," he added almost as an afterthought. "I might decide to let you warm my bed."
"That's disgusting."
She hadn't meant to blurt out her thought, but she couldn't keep it inside. Douglas took exception to the appalled look on her face. He took hold of her chin and forced her face up to his.
Good God, was he going to kiss her? "I'm going to be sick," she stammered out.
He hastily let go of her.
She took several deep breaths to convince him she really was having difficulty, then relaxed. "I'm better now," she lied.
"All the English are weak," he told her. " 'Tis yet another reason we despise them."
"English women as well as English men?" she asked.
"Aye," he answered.
"I'm English," she said. "And you contradict yourself. If you hate all of us, why would you hint at wanting me in your bed?"
He didn't answer her. A few minutes passed before he spoke again. "Tell me your name."
"Judith," she answered.
"Why are you wearing the Maitland plaid?"
"My friend gave it to me. I'm here on a visitation and will return to England after my friend has had her baby."
He shook his head. "The Maitlands wouldn't let you leave. You're lying, Judith."
"Why wouldn't they let me leave?"
"You're too beautiful to-"
"I'm English." She interrupted him with that reminder. "They don't like me."
"Don't lie to me," he ordered. "Tell me who you belong to."
"She's telling you the truth," Patrick shouted. "She's a guest, nothing more."
Douglas laughed. He wasn't believing any such nonsense. His hold on Judith's waist became painful. She reached down to pry his fingers away. She saw the ring on his finger then. She let out a little gasp. Her hand flew to her bosom where her father's identical ring was hidden. "Where did you get this ugly ring?" she asked.
"It was my uncle's," he answered. "Why do you persist in asking such personal questions?"
"I was merely curious," she replied.
In a low whisper he said, "You belong to Iain, don't you?"
"I don't converse with pigs."
He laughed then. Douglas was too ignorant to know when he was being insulted. She told him so.
"It's too fine a day to take insult over anything," he announced. "I've captured Graham for my father, and you for myself. Aye, it's a fine day all right."
God help her, she was actually related to this barbarian. She didn't speak to him again for a good hour or more. Curiosity got the better of her intention to ignore him, however, and since they now rode well ahead of both Graham and Patrick, and wouldn't be overheard, she decided to find out what she could about her father.
"What is Laird Maclean like?"
"Mean."
She heard the amusement in his voice. "And?"
"And what?"
"Never mind."
"Why are you so interested?"
"It's good to know as much as possible about one's enemies," she explained. "Why will your father be pleased to see Graham?"
"He has something to settle with him," Douglas answered. "The hate goes back long years. Aye, my father will be happy to see Graham again."
They didn't speak again until they had reached Maclean land. Judith was given a few minutes privacy. She returned from the shelter of the trees, ignored Douglas's outstretched hand, and gained her own horse before he could stop her.
Patrick kept trying to get close enough to talk to her. The Dunbars weren't letting him. Those warriors took their leave when additional Maclean soldiers surrounded them, obviously intent on returning to their own holding.
Judith knew Patrick wanted her to keep silent. He didn't want the Macleans to know they'd captured the laird's wife to use as bait to draw Iain out. Douglas had only been fishing for the truth when he'd suggested she was Iain's woman. He couldn't be sure until someone who knew the truth verified it.
None of it mattered. Iain would come anyway. Surely Patrick realized that. The two brothers had always looked after each other, and Iain would come to Patrick's aid now, Judith told herself, even if she weren't involved.
There could be a bloodbath. Judith didn't have any doubt about that. Iain wouldn't be reasonable when he retaliated, and just thinking about what would happen made her stomach ache.
She didn't want anyone to die. She didn't know what she could do to prevent the war, but she was determined to try.
She could try to get her father alone and tell him who she was. Then she would have to beg his mercy. If he proved to be compassionate, he might let Graham and Patrick leave before Iain came after them.
Judith had never begged for anything, and in her heart she doubted it would work anyway. She didn't think her father would welcome her. He hadn't bothered to come after her or her mother… why would he change his attitudes now?
And if she told him who she was, she would certainly lose everything. Iain would never forgive her. She couldn't blame him. She should have told him the truth, should have insisted he listen to her.
She thought about all those warm, dark nights when they had held each other close and whispered their thoughts to each other… oh, yes, she could have told him then.
She'd been too afraid, of course, and all because deep inside she knew he wouldn't love her anymore.
Judith's mind was so consumed by her fears, she didn't notice they'd ridden into the courtyard of the Maclean keep. She looked up, caught sight of the massive stone structure and immediately straightened her shoulders
…and her resolve.
She gave the Maclean holding a name. Purgatory.
Douglas tried to help her in mid-mount. She kicked his hand away. He tried to grab hold of her arm after she'd reached the ground. She shoved him away, then turned and walked up the steps.
Her bearing was every bit as regal as a queen's. Graham followed her. He was so proud of her behavior, he smiled. So did Patrick. The Maclean warriors were left guessing as to why the Maitlands were in such cheerful moods. They shook their heads and hurried inside to see their laird's reaction to his son's "gifts."