Read Online Gosford's Daughter by Mary Daheim - Free Book Online Page B

the
priest continued, inclining his head toward Sorcha’s plate, “did
you find the Master of Ness satisfactory eating as
well?”
    Sorcha’s green eyes widened with horror. She glanced
from Napier to her empty plate and back again. Abruptly, she
slapped a hand over her mouth, struggled with the voluminous skirts
that were caught under the table, and awkwardly hurtled out of her
chair to flee the dining hall.
    Sorcha was sick three times after she reached the
herb garden by the kitchen entrance. Steadying herself against the
walls of Gosford’s End, she wiped away tears of distress and anger
with her fingertips. She hated Father Gavin Napier, hated his lack
of priestly manners, hated his relentless taunting, hated his bold,
unholy gaze, and most of all, she hated his cruel amusement over
serving the Master of Ness for supper. He was not just a hunter,
but a destroyer.
    Sorcha turned her face to the brisk autumn wind, as
she wrenched the prickly ruff from her gown and crumpled it in her
hands. She would not, could not, go back into the dining hall.
Naturally, her parents would be angry with her for leaving so
hastily. But they would understand when she told them about the
Master of Ness. At least her father would. She hoped.
    It was chilly in the garden, but Sorcha needed the
fresh, damp air to revive herself. Without conscious thought, she
found her footsteps leading toward the stables.
    Niall was just coming out, a pair of riding gloves in
one hand. He froze in place when he saw Sorcha.
    “ Don’t go,” she called to him in a
hoarse voice. “Please. I’ve been ill.”
    He moved forward slightly but again stopped. In the
moonlight she could see his face working, as if he were trying to
find the right words, but knew there was nothing he could say
because he had been compelled to speak not at all.
    “ They made me eat the Master of
Ness,” Sorcha cried out to him, shaking the crumpled ruff in one
hand. “It made me sick! Please, Niall, give me a drink of
water!”
    Niall shifted from one foot to the other, obviously
torn by the commands of his master and the need of his beloved. He
fervently wished he had succumbed to his impulse and run away from
Gosford’s End when Iain Fraser had ordered him to avoid his
daughter’s company henceforth.
    Before Niall could respond in any manner, Sorcha
heard her father’s voice cut into the night: “Sorcha! Come
here!”
    She stood motionless for several moments, staring at
Niall’s outline against the stable door. He seemed as transfixed as
she, the two of them fixed in time and place, with the shadow of
Iain Fraser somewhere deep in the garden. At last, she raised the
hand that held the ruff, dashed it to the ground, and turned toward
her father.
     
     

Chapter 4
    T he summons to join her
mother at daybreak boded ill; Dallas rarely attempted to cope with
the world until at least nine o’clock. Upon those rare occasions
when she rose early, her mood was invariably stormy and irascible.
Apprehensively, Sorcha made her way to her mother’s chamber. There
were circles under her green eyes, and the olive skin was pale.
Although her father had not upbraided her the previous evening
after her brief explanation about the Master of Ness, she knew he
had merely put his wrath in check while his guests awaited him in
the dining hall.
    Indeed, Sorcha was faintly surprised that it was her
mother and not her father who commanded her presence so early on
this gloomy autumn morning. During the night the wind had blown
storm clouds in from the sea, though the rains had not yet started
to pelt the Highland countryside.
    Dallas was lying on her divan, fretting at the folds
of a deep blue peignoir trimmed in miniver. She appeared somewhat
sallow, and her own hair was almost unruly as her daughter’s.
Indicating that Sorcha should sit on a footstool next to her,
Dallas put aside a tray of food that apparently had proved
unappetizing.
    “ Your father has gone to Inverness,”
she said in a