Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

L iam noticed that when he mentioned the name of Carson MacAlister, the girl’s eyes briefly flashed with defiance, and he wondered why that should be so.

Her defiance seemed so out of place for a common thief. That coupled with the fact she was wearing a MacAlister ring, gave him pause. There could be a lot more tae this than I initially thought , he mused as he bathed the cut beneath her eye, drinking in her delicate beauty.

In truth, he found himself quite entranced by her pale, flawless skin and the light sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her small, straight nose, which gave her a slightly mischievous look. Her small, full lips were a little swollen from the rough treatment she had received in her youth’s guise, which he regretted. He could not help wondering how nice it would be to kiss them. But it was her eyes that made his belly clench. They were large and dark blue, and they twinkled in the light of the fire, reminding him of the night sky.

She’s the loveliest lassie I’ve ever laid eyes on, he thought to himself a little sadly. What a shame we havetae meet like this. ’Tis hard tae think she’s gonnae hate me fer what I must dae. But it is me duty, and I have a sense there could be a much larger connection between her and MacAlister than just a matter of her bein’ a spy in his employ.

He finished cleaning her wound, and they talked for a while longer, but he got nothing useful out of her. She kept insisting that she was running from her own wedding, but the story seemed so outrageous as to be beyond belief.

He looked up at the sky through the canopy of the trees. The weather was still windy and menacing, and he reluctantly decided it would be best to wait until morning to travel.

“We’ll stay here for the night and go tae the castle in the mornin’,” he told her. He spread out a blanket next to his bedroll and gestured for her to lie down next to him. He was astonished when she bridled.

“I’m nae laying down there next tae ye all night!” she declared, looking horrified.

He could not help smiling. “Why nae? Who are ye, the Queen of bloody Sheba? Ye think yersel’ too good tae lay next tae me, eh? I’ll nae touch ye, but why should we nae share a bed if ye’re nae a threat tae me like ye claim?”

She stared at him, her fists clenched in obvious exasperation. She opened her mouth, clearly about to argue.

“Lie down!” he commanded in a tone that brooked no argument. She huffed loudly. Making her reluctance bindingly clear, she obeyed. He lay down next to her. “I’ll tie ye tae me waist, so dinnae bother gettin’ any ideas about takin’ off again,” he warned her, binding her wrists and ankles and securing her by a line of rope to his waist.

“All right, Amy, good night. Try tae get some rest.”

She lay with her back to him, inches away. He remained awake for a while, listening to the wind, until her breathing gradually slowed. Then he allowed himself to fall asleep.

The cold dawn woke him. That and the pain in his back. When he looked up at the sky, he realized the bad weather had blown itself out, though it was still cold and blustery. They could continue to Castle Stewart without further delay.

He looked over to where his prisoner was lying next to him perfectly still. Something about the tension in her body told him she was awake too. He sat up, stretched and cracked his bones, then added some more wood to the fire to bring it up again. He warmed his hands over the flames.

She eventually sat up, shivering as she clutched the blanket around her for warmth and to hide the rip in her shirt. In the bright daylight, her ethereal beauty took his breath away. Just looking at her stirred some masculine instinct deep inside him he could not account for.

His response to her troubled him. In the company of a pretty woman, he counted himself as ready for a tumble as the next man. In more conducive circumstances, he admitted he would have taken her to his bed like a shot if she was willing, no question. But this was far more than simple lust.

Her very presence seemed to command another part of him that was unfamiliar, disturbing even. It was like an ache located somewhere in his chest, around the region of his heart. As he busied himself with simple tasks, he found himself torn. Let her go , a part of him whispered. Nay, I must dae me duty tae Knox and his clan, said another.

When he offered her something to eat, she said nothing, only shook her long, dark hair, looking as though she was about to go to her execution. It troubled him to think that, in a way, she very well might be.

“Ye need somethin’ inside ye tae keep yer strength up,” he told her, concerned that she must be cold and hungry.

“Ready fer me torture, ye mean, I suppose,” she said glumly.

“Suit yersel’,” he replied, wondering again if he was doing the right thing in taking her back for interrogation. Once more, he toyed with the idea of letting her go and saying she had escaped. But he just could not face letting down Knox, telling himself that if she were innocent, then nothing bad would happen to her. He was pleased when she at least accepted some hot tea, drinking it slowly, while he breakfasted on some bread and dried meat.

It was embarrassing for them both when they had to answer a call of nature. To make sure she did not try to run again, he agreed to untie her ankles but kept her hands bound as they went into the trees. He was forced to pee standing on one side of a tree trunk, while she squatted down to relieve herself on the other side, emerging with her cheeks glowing red. As he led her back to the camp, he thought she looked lovelier than ever.

He re-tied her ankles and set her by the fire while he broke camp. Finally, making sure she was firmly wrapped in the blanket, he brought his horse over. Once he had packed up his saddle bags, he lifted her up into the saddle. She weighed almost nothing, and his hands easily spanned her waist. The curves beneath the blanket felt warm and soft. Trying to ignore the strange tingling in his hands, he swung himself up behind her.

“Are ye comfortable there?” he asked, finding himself worrying about her more than he should over a potential spy. But he could not seem to help himself. Spy or not, she was young woman, the most beautiful he had ever seen, and he could not find it in himself to be unnecessarily harsh with her.

Thankfully, he knew Knox was not a cruel man either, plus he was well-known for having a soft spot for the ladies. Liam managed to partially convince himself that no real harm would come to her at Laird Stewart’s hands.

“Nay. How can I be comfortable with me hands and feet tied?” she answered bluntly. Her slender body wriggled against him as he held her within the cage of his body, her backside pressing against his thighs. Her hair tickled his nose, and he could smell the sea in it. Despite the circumstances, he rather liked having her there and did his best to let her get comfortable.

He kicked the horse into a walk and set off for Castle Stewart. On the journey, they were mostly silent. She answered his questions in monosyllables, giving off an air of going to her doom.

However, the longer she was pinned between his thighs, the more he felt her heat seeping into him, and he became increasingly aware of the effect she was having on his body. He felt himself hardening in his trews. Embarrassed, he shifted uncomfortably in the saddle to conceal his state of arousal.

It was a relief when he sighted the towers of the castle up ahead. He veered down the road toward the gatehouse, glad to see no signs of any recent attack. As they drew closer, the great gates creaked open and he guided the horse through them and into the cobbled courtyard.

The courtyard was bustling with martial activity, with many soldiers gathered there. Knox was talking with them, but when he saw Liam, he cut the conversation short and hurried over to greet him. As Liam slid from the saddle, the two men clapped each other on the back in greeting. Then, Knox stood back and stared up at Amy with obvious bewilderment.

“Where’s the lad?” he asked Liam.

Liam jerked his head at Amy. “Right there.”

Light seemed to dawn on Knox. “Ye mean tae say ’twas nae a lad at all but a lassie?” he asked, apparently unable to take his eyes off the young woman looking down at him stoically from the saddle.

“Aye. Her name’s Amy,” Liam replied, turning and lifting her down. For all her courage, her face was white and pinched, her lovely eyes wide with fear. His heart went out to her. The urge to protect her rose up strongly in him, but he knew an interrogation was inevitable.

“Well, well, well, Amy, is it?” Knox murmured, taking off his hat momentarily and scratching his head as he continued staring at her. Liam could sense he too was perplexed at finding their prisoner was a lass. The woeful look she shot him pricked at his conscience, but he told himself he had to fulfill his duty to Knox.

“I’m pleased tae see there was nay attack last night,” he observed, relieved all was well.

“Aye, thank the Wee Man,” the Laird answered. “I cannae tell ye how glad I was when I got back. But MacAlister could attack at any time, so we havetae be ready.”

“Aye,” Liam agreed as Knox led them past the guards and into castle keep. “Amy here might be able tae tell us somethin’ about that,” he added, ignoring his doubts. He held her arm firmly and steered her along beside him.

Knox led them along a tapestry lined hallway to the door of his study. “Aye, bring her in. Let’s see what she’s got tae say fer hersel’.” He opened the door and waved them inside.

A few minutes later, with Amy now tied securely to a chair and a sneer on her lips, they began to question her. But all she would say was what she had already told Liam in the forest, that she was running from her own wedding because she did not want to be married to her groom. She insisted he was a cruel man who would make her life miserable.

“And what about that ring, eh? How did ye come by that if ye’re nae MacAlister spy?” Knox demanded for the umpteenth time.

“I told ye, I stole it, from a man’s pocket at an inn!” she cried in obvious distress. Liam felt sorry for her and willed her to give up.

“A likely story,” Knox said, echoing his own disbelief. “I dinnae wantae hurt a woman, but if ye refuse tae tell us the truth, ye’ll force me tae lock ye up in me dungeons and see how ye like that. ’Tis nae very pleasant down there,” he warned her.

“I’ve told ye the truth!” she exclaimed, looking irritated yet also a little bit scared at the prospect of being thrown in the dungeons.

“Come on, Amy, if that’s yer real name,” Liam tried again, hoping to avoid putting her in the dungeons, “tell us what yer connection is tae Carson McAlister and why ye wear his clan insignia on yer finger.” But it did no good. They grew increasingly frustrated when she just kept on stubbornly repeating what she had already said.

“Right, I’ve had enough of this. We’ll see if a spell in the dungeons will loosen yer tongue. Come on, Liam. We’ll take her down there ourselves and see how she likes it,” Knox declared, winking at Liam so she could not see. Liam knew Knox was hoping the threat alone would scare her into submission. However, from the little he knew her, he was skeptical that it would work.

They untied her, and each took her by an arm and whisked her through the castle, along a dimly lit stone corridor, down some steps, and through a large, studded door of oak, into a reeking hallway lit by torches. Cells were ranged on either side. Someone somewhere was moaning softly.

Liam shivered. Not only did it stink of human waste and misery, but it was also dark, dank, and freezing. He heard rats scuttling about nearby and the sound of dripping water.

His heart clenched when he heard Amy gasp in shock. She moaned and sagged in their arms.

“Aye, ye dinnae like that, d’ye?” Knox said.

’Tis nae place fer a young lassie tae be left all alone, Liam thought, heavy with misgiving as Knox pushed her into a dark cell, with dripping walls and rotten straw on the floor, and slammed the door shut.

The sound of the cell door slamming echoed off the dank stone walls of the dungeons. “Ye can stay there until ye decide tae talk,” Knox told the captive through the grill in the door, leaving her in pitch darkness except for a small shaft of light coming in from a ventilation hole somewhere above.

As Knox turned to leave, Liam paused, looking back at the cell door, imagining her inside, terrified. The urge to let her out was almost overwhelming.

“Come on, man, let’s see how long it takes her tae change her mind,” Knox urged him from the doorway.

But Liam’s conscience was troubling him badly. “Knox, we cannae just leave her here like that,” he said to his friend in a low voice as they were about to exit the dungeons. “She’ll either die of cold or fear.”

“Look, I ken how ye’re feelin’, Liam, and I feel the same. She’s a wee young lassie, and ‘tis nae pleasure fer me tae lock her up in this God-awful place. But I figure if we leave down here fer an hour or two, it might just scare her intae tellin’ us what we need tae ken.”

“But what if she’s already tellin’ the truth?”

“What? Are ye jestin’? Ye believe that codswallop about runnin’ from her own weddin’ while stealing and wearing the MacAlister ring and accidentally ending up in the MacAlister’s foe’s lands?” Knox exclaimed.

Liam shrugged. “Back in the forest, she told me she was tryin’ tae steal me horse because she needed tae get as far and as fast away from her bridegroom as possible before he started searchin’ fer her. She seems genuinely terrified of him findin’ her. She said he’s a cruel man, and her life with him would be one of misery. That’s nae what I expect tae hear from a spy.”

Knox thought for a moment then nodded. “Aye, that’s true. I’ll bear in mind what ye say, Liam, because I trust yer judgement. But I cannae bring mesel’ tae believe she stole that ring she’s wearin’. That tells me she kens more that she’s lettin’ on, and I need tae find out what it is if I’m tae protect me people,” he argued softly.

“All right, I grant ye that,” Liam replied unhappily. “There’s somethin’ else too. Ye should have seen the look on her face when I mentioned Carson MacAlister. Ye could see she was terrified, but she tried tae hide it from me.”

“Aye, I noticed that last night when I saw the ring and accused her of bein’ a spy,” Knox said with a nod. “But I was in such a hurry tae get back here, I never gave it another thought. So, what d’ye make of it?”

“Well, we’ve asked her a hundred times about the ring, and she refuses tae say anythin’ other than she stole it. She claims nae tae be a spy for MacAlister, but she willnae tell us who this bridegroom is she claims tae be so scared of, so we cannae verify her story. Yet the mention of his name sparks somethin’ in her.”

“Ye think there’s more tae this than meets the eye?” Knox asked.

“Aye, I dae.” Liam nodded. “I think we may have accidentally stumbled on something involvin’ MacAlister that bears investigatin’. ’Tis just a hunch, but I cannae help thinkin’ there’s a bigger connection here than I first thought.”

Knox stepped out into the passageway. “Well, we can send some scouts out tae see what they can find out. But the quickest way to learn more is if she talks. I hate leavin’ her here as much as ye dae, but we need tae frighten her a wee bit if we’re tae loosen her tongue.”

“Can we leave a guard here so if she decides tae talk, he can let us ken immediately?” Liam asked, leaning on the doorjamb.

“Aye, that was me plan.”

“And can we get her some blankets and some food and drink?”

“Aye, I’ll see tae it when we get upstairs.”

“A lantern?”

Knox chuckled. “Aye, of course. It willnae hurt fer her tae ken we can be reasonable. I suggest we give it an hour or two for her tae change her mind. We can have dinner while we wait. Come on.” He jerked his head, and Liam at last stepped over the threshold, as satisfied as he could be in the circumstances about the necessity of leaving Amy down there.

After they retraced their steps back to the main hallway, Knox gave the orders to take the things they had decided upon down to the prisoner at once, commanding he be informed if she expressed a wish to speak.

Knox halted just inside the great hall upon their entrance and gestured around at the spectacular hall with a wave of his arm. Its massive double hearths were blazing, casting a warm glow over the bustling scene. The long tables were slowly filling up with castle folk, who made themselves comfortable on long wooden benches.

Around and above them, illuminated by the light of many candles, Liam spied the soaring walls crammed with colorful clan memorabilia, pennants, portraits of deceased family members, outdated weaponry, and other curiosities of all kinds.

“Welcome tae me humble abode, me friend,” Knox said, grinning.

Liam looked around him, taking in the impressive space. He smiled. The whole place had a welcoming feel, warm, bright, and bustling. It seemed to reflect Knox’s personality perfectly. He let out a low whistle of admiration. “Ye have a nice place here, Knox,” he told his friend, nodding his approval.

“Thank ye, I like tae think so,” the laird replied with a satisfied nod and a chuckle. “Come on, this way,” he added, leading Liam up the central aisle, between the rows of tables, to the laird’s table at the front of the enormous hall.

Dinner would have been enjoyable, if not for the fact that all Liam could see in his mind’s eye throughout the lavish meal was Amy. She was down there, alone, huddled in the cold on a bed of rotting straw, with rats scuttling about her.

He tried to hide his distress, putting on a friendly face for the many introductions that had to be made before dinner to Knox’s council and their families. He also met and talked with the military commanders he would be working with in designing and delivering the training Knox wished his army to have.

But always, at the back of his mind, the picture was there—her dark blue eyes pleading with him to let her go, the anguish painted on her beautiful face when she saw where she was to be locked up. He imagined her fear, down there, in the cold, dank bowels of the castle. He felt as if some giant fist had reached into his chest, gotten hold of his heart, and was squeezing it as though to stop it beating once and for all.

Scared stiff by this extreme reaction, he gave himself a mental shake. I’ve gottae pull mesel’ taegether. Knox is right, a scare might shake the truth out of her. ’Tis only fer an hour or two, and she’ll come tae nae real harm.

Even so, he had to fight the image of her suffering somewhere down beneath his feet.