Dark Side of the Laird (Highland Bound) (18 page)

BOOK: Dark Side of the Laird (Highland Bound)
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Someone cleared their throat from the door, and the bastard turned away from me.

“What do ye want?” he growled.


His Highness, sir, he’s…”

The king’s torturer left me, stomping over to the door where the two men whispered fiercely.

I tried to hear what they were saying, but none of it was decipherable. A few moments later the maggot returned to me and pressed the blade to my cheek, carving a burning line from the corner of my eye to the corner of my mouth. Not too deep, but enough to make me cringe and bleed.

“I’ll be back for ye,” he said. The man came close to my face, licking his lips, his teeth brown and eyes blazing with hunger. I don’t think I was too far off in thinking he gained an immeasurable amount of pleasure from torturing people.

He came so close that for a second, I wondered if he was going to kiss me. I could almost taste the foulness of his breath as I took in one last draw of air and held it.

“Ye’ll be a fun one, Grant.”

And then he was gone, pushing away from the table, lumbering toward the door, and leaving me much relieved not to have been kissed by his foul mouth.

Chapter Nineteen

 

 

Emma

 


Y
ou must let me inside.” The guards on either side of the corridor shifted their gazes away awkwardly as I pounded frantically outside of Ewan’s door. “I have to speak with him,” I said to them.

One took pity on me and responded,
“My lady, he is not well. Ye canna speak to him.”

“You don’t understand. I
have
to speak with him.”

The guard looked irritated, but held it in well, other than the slight twitch he’d developed in his eye
and the corner of his lip. “My lady—”

The door to the chamber opened and Agatha peered into the hallway
, her mouth turned down. “My lady,” she murmured, her eyes raised as though surprised to see me there, or maybe surprised the guards had not allowed me entrance. “Ye can come inside to attend him.” She opened the door wider and allowed me to enter.

“Thank you,” I murmured, looking down at the ground so as not to affront the guard. He’d done a good job of
protecting me and if he was half as insistent while watching my door as he’d been with me not seeing Ewan, I was grateful.

The room was lit by candles, and smelled of blood and ointments. The healer stood beside Ewan packing a green paste into one of his many wounds.
He was stripped to the waist, a coverlet pulled to his hips. More than half his wounds had been sewn and dressed. He looked like a crudely put together doll, with so many black strings crisscrossing to hold his flesh together.

His eyes were closed, and his breathing looked slightly less ragged than it had in the great hall. His pallor had not improved, however, and his lips were still
grayish.

“Will he live?” I asked, my stomach churning at the pain he must be enduring.

The healer didn’t respond, simply continued to apply the salve.

I glanced at Agatha, panic welling in my chest. “Well?”

“We canna be certain, my lady. He’s been badly beaten. In truth, if we’d not found him within the hour we did, he’d have died. The man has ye to thank for it, for no one would have gone to search so soon if ye’d not insisted.”

I waved away her admonitions.
I found it odd that no one would have gone looking for the man in charge. Though, perhaps they were all confident in his abilities, and would have assumed he was doing what needed to be done. “Never mind that, I don’t require thanks. Tell me how he’s progressing.”

Agatha pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. “Still has a fever. His body is fighting
hard; it’s not as high as it was before.”

I stepped closer to the bed, took Ewan’s free hand in mine and squeezed. His fingers fluttered in my grasp and he murmured something.

“What did he say?” I asked, a little anxious.

The healer shook her head. “Nonsense.”

But I had a feeling he was trying to say something important, that the message he intended to get across was garbled by the wounds in his body.

“I think he’s trying to tell me something,” I insisted. I leaned over him, pushing my hair behind my ear and pressing it close to his lips. “Tell me
, Ewan.”

His breath puffed on my ear,
and he issued an inaudible mumble.

“Ewan, tell me. You can do it, I believe in you. Logan is in trouble. I need you,” I said.

“Logan,” he whispered and that time I wasn’t the only one to hear it.

The healer’s hands stilled her movements, and Agatha gasped.

“Aye, Logan. He needs you,” I said.

“Isabe… danger.” His words puffed out between short pants.
“She’s…” He trailed off, swallowing hard.

I stroked a calming hand on his stubbled cheek, trying to reassure him as his breathing became labored. I was afraid the healer would push me away, tell me he needed to rest.
But she ignored me, and I wondered if the woman had heard him say these things before. If she wanted me to hear them and alert the guards.

Ewan struggled a moment, grunting as he shifted uncomfortably.
“Planning an… invas…”

“An invasion?”
I asked, trying not to sound too freaked out as I imagined warriors climbing the walls and slicing down every man, woman and child in their path. I had no doubt that Logan’s vicious enemies would do it, too. They were heartless, seeing only a goal ahead and not caring how they reached it.

“Aye,” Ewan choked, going into a coughing fit.
Blood seeped from the side of his mouth and I reached out, Agatha stuffing a small linen into my palm.

I wiped at the blood, swallowing down my tears.
“Shh… You don’t have to say anything more now,” I soothed. And he didn’t. What he’d said was enough to get me moving and motivate the guards to do exactly as I said.

Ewan shook his head, gripped tight to my hand, the most strength I’d felt from him since coming into the room.
He wasn’t letting me go. His eyes popped open, searching until he found me. They were bloodshot, pain-filled.

“Did she do this to you?” I asked.

He nodded.

Fury, pure and powerful jolted through my blood. Isabella was even more vicious than I’d previously believed.

“We’ll lock her away,” I stated firmly.

Still he struggled, as though he wanted to say more.

“Water,” I said, and Agatha reached for a pewter mug, handing it to me.

I held the cup to his lips and Ewan drank a small sip, aspirating some of it and coughing
violently. More blood sprayed onto his lips. “Slowly, Ewan,” I whispered.

He drank another few sips then laid his head back against the pillows, exhausted.

“The laird…” he murmured.

“Shh… We will get him.”

Again, Ewan shook his head. “She said… she said they…”

My heart skipped a beat. There was more that I needed to know. More to Isabella’s vicious attack than simply doing away with Logan’s second in command.

“They’ll kill him,” he finally managed to say.

“Who? The king?” I asked, desperate now for an answer.

Ewan nodded again. Isabella had confessed this to him as she thought he lay dying. There was every possibility she spoke the truth, wanting to gloat about her plans to someone who could do nothing but listen. My gut told me that she’d relayed the truth to Ewan. Which meant…

“Oh my God.” I staggered backward. My visions of Logan
flooded my mind. I’d been right. They were true and he could be dead even now.

I wasn’t the only one shocked. The healer’s hands stilled and she glanced up at me, fear in her eyes. Agatha gasped and gripped tight to the side table as though she might fall.

“Rest now, Ewan. I will save the laird.”

Three sets of eyes looked at me as though I’d grown two additional heads, but I nodded, shoulders squared. Determined.

“I won’t let him die.” Whirling, I marched toward the door and flung it open. To the guard there, I said, “Ewan has spoken. Lady Isabella was his attacker. She plans to let our enemies within the walls and did confess to him that the king has plans to kill Logan.”

The guard
s’ eyes hardened as they shifted their glances between them.

“Ewan has issued orders for the lady to be remanded to the dungeon. Double the forces on the walls and get a party together to ride to Falkland Palace to bring home our laird.”

The guards nodded and three took their leave to go about the orders, and to send another guard up in case Isabella was found lurking about. The fourth remained behind to watch over Ewan’s chamber.

I bowed my head in thanks, then turned back to the room. “All will be well. It’s in the fates.”

I waited at the door until another guard arrived, not that I’d be much help in subduing an attacker should they try to gain entry, but if it were Isabella, I’d knock her out.

The guard arrived quickly,
taking his post beside the door and I couldn’t help but ask, “Has she been taken?”

“Not yet, my lady.”

I frowned, and rushed to my room to dress. Adrenaline and anger fueling my body’s energy. I wanted to watch them lock her up. I wanted to see her behind bars. See her pockets emptied of any poison she might slip the guards. Isabella was not to be trusted a millimeter.

Leaving my chambers, I checked with the guards at Ewan’s door once more. No word yet. I raced down the stairs toward the great hall, finding a great many of the servants and clan folk gathered, worry etching their faces.

“All will be well,” I kept repeating, but my words offered little comfort. Their laird was gone and Ewan was badly injured.

Moments later we
could all hear the bitch’s screams from a far corridor. They’d gotten her. I couldn’t help but hiss, “Yes!”

The sound of her anger made me smile. I rushed to the spot, pleased to see her trussed up like a pig. A guard walked in front of those who held her captive—perhaps to open the doors so those holding her didn’t have to let go. Two guards dragged her, her back to where they were headed, but she had to have
known it was over. Must have given the guards some fight, too, for them to have tied her up, but then again, maybe not. The tall guard to her left, I recalled, was the brother of one of the poor guards she’d gotten drunk and was subsequently punished for getting drunk.

Isabella’s eyes landed on me, and she quieted, forcing all the guards to turn and see me standing there.
Torchlight flickered on her face. Her lip curled cruelly as she watched me.

“He fucked me. Did ye know that?” she asked.

Stunned, I stopped walking. “Ewan?” I asked.

Slowly, she shook her head. “Nay, bitch, the laird.”

Was it possible to feel like you’d been kicked in the stomach just from a few words? It took all the power I had not to double over from shock. No. She was lying. Logan would never betray me.

“Fucked me good and hard. Told me he was going to see the king about a contract for u
s. I may now be carrying his heir.” She pursed her lips, giving me a pitying gaze. “Oh, dear. Did ye think he was going to gain the king’s assistance for ye?” She shook her head and laughed. “Ye’re even dumber than I thought.”

At that moment the guards seemed to come to their senses and yanked her forward more. “Shut up, ye cow,” the slighted guard hissed.

“’Tis all right, I’ve said enough.” She pressed her lips together, as though she’d not say another word. Then she smiled again, unable to resist in her need to spread more vicious lies. “The contract will be drawn up. The marriage will be valid since we’ve already consummated it. And then he dies. Probably dead already. This is my castle now, and ye’ll all be executed for treating your mistress this way.”

I finally found my feet and walked forward, keeping in time with the guards. This time
, I smiled. “Your lies will get you nowhere, Isabella. Well, except to the dungeon and then on a ship back north.”

“Ye’d do best to kill me, whore. For I
will not stop until ye’re dead,” she ground out.

“That can be arranged,” I mused, feigning indifference. The woman had the ability to make me see red, and imagine
how I could implement each of the wicked torture instruments I’d seen in Logan’s dungeon.

“Ask him, when ye see
him. Ask if his cock was not covered in my virgin’s blood. Let him tell ye the truth. He’ll not lie to ye.”

The
y pushed through the door to the dungeon, walking down the thin windy stair. I followed them in the dank, decrepit place. Holding my breath, and then mouth breathing, trying not to smell. They opened the cell door and thrust her in, without removing the ties that bound her. Good. She deserved it.

As the
y closed the cell and locked it, I leaned close to the bars and said, “You lose.”

Then
I reached through the iron bars and wrenched Logan’s ring from her finger.

 

BOOK: Dark Side of the Laird (Highland Bound)
2.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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