Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

A s soon as Liam left and Ivy heard him locking the door behind him and walking away, Ivy leapt up from the bed. She began examining every corner of the chamber, running her hands over every inch of the wood-paneled walls, high and low, tapping at them, laying her ear against them to see if they were hollow.

When she came to the mantel, she explored with her fingertips every nook and cranny of the intricately carved surround, hoping to come across a hidden mechanism that would open a door.

She knew that castles were usually riddled with secret passages, often concealed behind false walls. She figured there may well be one in the room, and if she could find it, she might be able to leave the bloody castle unseen.

“Blast it!” she muttered to herself, finding nothing of use by the mantel. So, determined not to give up hope, she continued searching around the room. By the time she had done, she had not discovered any secret passages. There’s nay way out of here but the windows.

She went to the nearest window again and opened it. She leaned over the stone sill and looked down to a small courtyard area below, figuring she was somewhere near the rear of the main building. It was dark outside, but the sliver of moonlight allowed her to see the drop to the ground. It was long way down, at least twenty feet, she calculated.

Nevertheless, she clung to her hopes of escape and went back to sit on the bed, a plan starting to form in her mind. A few minutes later, she got up and lifted the coverlet of the bed, looking beneath to see what bedding there was. Then she went to a chest at the end of the bed and looked inside. The scent of lavender pleasantly assaulted her senses as she looked inside. It was full of clean, neatly folded blankets and sheets. Perfect , she thought, with a small smile of satisfaction as she closed the lid.

I have me plan. Now all I havetae dae is find the right moment tae carry it out.

She went back and lay on the bed in comfort, waiting for Liam to return as he had said he would.

She must have drifted off to sleep, because the next thing she knew, she was awoken by the sound of the key turning in the lock. Liam entered, balancing a tray in one hand. He placed it on a console table nearby as he shut the door behind him and relocked it. Ivy made sure to note where he put the key. If there was the remotest chance she could get it off him, she resolved to try.

“Are ye hungry?” he asked, bringing the tray over to the bed and placing it next to on the coverlet. She was actually starving, and the food smelled good. But she had already decided she should try to play upon his feelings. She could tell he had a soft heart and did not want to send her back to Carson.

Maybe I can persuade him after all, and the best way tae dae that is tae make him feel sorry fer me.

“I’ve nay appetite,” she told him, turning away from the tray of food.

He looked at her sadly. “Nae even fer a wee bit of stew? ’Tis very good,” he said in a coaxing voice.

“I’m so afeared by what’s happenin’ tae me, that if I try tae eat so much as a morsel, I’ll be sick.” Is this believable or too whiny?

“Oh,” he murmured, looking at her with a mixture of concern and disappointment. He took the tray away and placed it on the nightstand.

“What about a wee dram then?” he asked, taking the hip flask from his pocket and offering it to her. She took it and drank deeply, feeling she needed the strength the whisky would give her.

“Thank ye,” she said in a dispirited tone, handing back the flask. She sighed desperately again for good measure. He took a swallow too before putting the flask away.

“Ach, the fire’s burned down,” he said, looking over at the fireplace.

“Aye, it must have been when I was asleep.”

“Oh, ye fell asleep, did ye?”

“Aye, fer a wee while.”

“I’ll stoke it up,” he said, going over and starting to build it up again, laying some small logs from the basket on the burning embers. “We cannae have ye gettin’ cold.”

As if it matters when I go back tae Carson.

“Liam, I told ye before,” she said in a soft, pleading tone, “I ken ye’re a good, kind man, and I can see ye have yer doubts about sendin’ me back tae me braither. Will ye please just think about releasin’ me? If ye let me go, I promise I’ll be out of this place, and ye’ll never see me again.”

He stood up suddenly, and she found herself looking at his massive chest. She felt very small next to him, but as big and fearsome as he was, he did not scare her at all. In fact, she felt safe next to him. He exuded masculine power and strength of a kind she had never encountered before. However, she did not doubt he would always put them to use in a good cause, even if that cause was not helping her right now.

The thought flickered though her mind that if she had to marry anyone, she wished it could be someone as good and braw as Liam. But a man like him would surely have been snapped up already by some lucky lass. Probably, he had a wife already, and bairns too.

She put the silly thought out of her mind and tilted her head back to meet his stormy gray eyes. They glittered in the firelight, full of kindness and regret as they looked down on her. His pleasing, musky scent wafted over her and made a shiver run up her spine.

“I told ye nae tae ask me again, Ivy. I simply cannae dae it,” he told her harsher than she expected. “Dinnae think that playing with me sympathy will get ye out of here, I’m nae so weak.”

Frustrated, she returned to the bed and sat down with a frown, watching as he stooped over the fire. Still, as angry as she was, she found herself fascinated by the movements of his magnificent physique as he tended to the flames. He was huge, yes, but everything was in perfect proportion. She had to admit to herself that the thought of laying abed with Liam was a far more tempting prospect than being forced to share Gael’s bed.

Really , she thought, there’s nae comparison. The notion made her even more determined to evade the clutches of her would-be bridegroom.