Kilts and Daggers (17 page)

Before she knew it, the man with the red hair returned with another jug of water and more bread. “This will have to do.” His eyes widened at the sight of the empty blanket. “Ye ate all that already?”

“You didn't give me anything for two and a half days. I'm surprised your captain even let you bring me more.”

“He's nae here, but I wouldnae test him anymore if I were ye. Ye donna want to make matters worse. He said as long as ye behave, ye can have something to eat and drink.”

“How kind of him.” She glanced up at the man. “There were other men in my party. When you brought me here, did any of my traveling companions survive?” Grace tried to kill the sob that lingered in her throat.

He shrugged with indifference. “I donna know. I wasnae there. We're paid verra well for our troubles. If the captain was told nae to take any other prisoners, he wouldnae.”

“How much longer will I be here?”

“As long as it takes to release the Earl of Orkney from his prison.”

She lifted a brow. “The Earl of Orkney? I can't say that we're acquainted. What does this man have to do with me exactly?” When he didn't respond, she added, “I'm locked behind a closed door with no means of escape. What harm could there be in telling me your purpose? Perhaps I can help you find whatever it is you seek and put an end to all this madness.”

He rubbed his chin with his fingers. “Donna mistake my intent as a kindness to ye. I am only following the orders of my captain.” He paused as she waited for him to continue. “A servant from Orkney had evidence against the earl, information which could still cost the earl his head if 'tis placed in the wrong hands. The woman is nay longer of this world.” He smirked. “But before she died, she gave a testament to an English spy who travels to Edinburgh to present this evidence to the king.”

An innocent expression crossed her face. “I told you. I don't know this man. I've only been to Edinburgh a few times at court and recently attended my sister's wedding in the Highlands. I haven't been out of England long enough to know anything about this man or evidence that someone has against him. And I certainly don't know an English spy. For heaven's sake, I live in a manor house in—”

He gave her a chilling smile. “We know where ye live and who ye are. That's why we have ye with us. Word has been sent to the English spy that we
will
kill ye if the evidence is delivered to the king. There is naught ye can do but sit, wait, and pray. Once we kill the spy, ye can take your leave of this place.”

The door closed, and she shuddered. An inner torment began to gnaw at her. Grace wasn't daft. The men wouldn't let her go. She knew too much. These men were going to kill the English spy, but which one? A cold shiver spread over her because she knew her family held many secrets.

Between Uncle Walter and Ravenna, Grace wasn't sure what they had done or who was in danger.

Grace was losing her mind. Time was becoming a big blur as one day ran into the next. She needed to find a way to make her escape before Uncle Walter or Ravenna came for her. She had to warn them. She was terrified for her family. The poor excuse for a captain hadn't been to see her since she'd humiliated him and his lack of manhood, rightfully so. That's what he deserved for behaving as a beast. She couldn't stand the sight of any man who claimed a woman's body by brutal force. The captain had no respect for the fairer sex, and she considered it abhorrent the way he kept her penned up like a dog all the time. For heaven's sake, she was starting to become like an animal, eating and drinking on the floor like Angus.

“Hello! Can someone please help me?” Grace stood by the door, resting her cheek against the cool metal bars.

The red-haired man walked through the passage and held up the torch to the door. “I just gave ye food and water. What the hell could ye possibly want now?”

Her voice was unsteady, weak. “Please… I don't feel well.” She moved away from the door and hunched over in the corner with one palm resting on the stone wall. Her other hand held her stomach, and she moaned for added impact.

“What's the matter with ye?”

“I don't know how many days have passed, but I think my woman's time is coming due.”

The man swore under his breath and wiped his brow. “Och, just my luck. What do ye need?”

“I haven't seen the light of day, and my stomach pains me. It's cool and damp within the walls. Perhaps some warm air will do me some good.”

“I'm nae letting ye out of there, ye daft wench. The captain would have my head.”

“And he also left you in charge, did he not? What if your captain returns to find me deathly ill because you did not see to my welfare? I told you that I'm not feeling well. If you won't allow me to get some air, then perhaps you can come in and assist me during my woman's time.”

He paused, and then his response held a note of impatience. “I'll be back.”

Thankfully, he didn't see the smile that crossed her face when she stood. These Scottish mercenaries might be superior in battle, but underneath that steely exterior was still a simple man who wanted no part of a woman at the slightest mention of monthly courses. When he didn't return, she thought briefly that the guard might have taken the coward's way out and disappeared, but then he opened the door.

“I give ye fair warning… Ye will listen to my command. If ye make any attempt to escape, I will kill ye, and I will nae hesitate. Do ye understand?”

Grace smoothed her skirts. “Yes, of course.” She walked out the door, and he gestured her forward. She silently measured the number of steps that she took from the door along the straight path of the passageway. When the stone walls veered off to the left, she started to count over again, stopping when the cave widened into a larger natural room.

Two men sat at an old wooden table and glanced up as she walked past them. Their snakelike eyes studied her intently. She must be quite the sight with her dirty dress and tangled hair. Then she realized she looked the same as they did. She gazed into that looking glass, studying herself with displeasure, and her mouth spread into a thin-lipped smile. She wasn't surprised when the men paid her no heed and continued to speak with each other in Gaelic.

“Wait,” said the man who escorted her. He extinguished the torch and nodded to his cohorts. As she started to make her way through a narrow passage, she suddenly stood immobile, blinded by sunlight. She lifted her hand to shield her eyes and felt a nudge on her shoulder.

“Ye said ye needed air. Get on with it, or I can always take ye back to your hole.”

“Give me a moment. I cannot see,” she chided him.

“God's teeth.” He gave her a less-than-friendly shove out onto the cliffs.

Light-colored rocks reflected the brightness of the sun, stabbing her eyes with shooting pain. She shut her eyelids and tried to open them slowly several times. She barely caught sight of the man's massive frame as he sat perched on a rock, watching her like a hawk. The way he gawked at her, studying her every move, made her wonder if she could get him close enough to merely push him over the edge. She only stopped pondering the scheme when she was able to lower the hand that shaded her eyes.

Grayish-white cliffs were all around her, and the smell of salt water engulfed her senses. She glanced over the guard's shoulder for a sign of escape, any sign of a path that led to freedom.

Nothing.

Not wanting to make the man suspicious of her, Grace gazed down into the sea. Wave after white wave pounded into the jagged rocks. Surprisingly, there was no sandy beach as there had been at her brother-in-law's home.

“Donna even think about it. There isnae anywhere to run.”

“I don't think I'll be jumping to my death anytime soon, but thank you for your concern.”

“Watch your tongue, lass. I told ye this before. I can always take ye back and leave ye in the dark.”

“How long have I been here?” she asked, raising her voice above the roar of the water.

He shrugged. “A sennight.”

“A sennight?” She couldn't believe she'd been confined for that long. She knew Uncle Walter would need longer than seven days to reach her, but the journey would only take Ravenna a few days. Not wanting to show her concern and give the guard anymore ammunition to use against her, Grace closed her eyes. Clenching her stomach, she feigned a sharp pain.

“Oh, I feel as though I'm going to be sick. Is there perhaps a place above the rocks where I can seek some privacy in the trees?” When he didn't respond, she opened her eyes to find him gesturing to the crag.

“Choose a rock. There are many from which to choose.”

“You cannot be serious.”

“I am nae letting ye out of my sight.”

She shrugged with indifference and turned around. “All I was asking for was a moment alone to see to my personal needs, but I give you fair warning that if I did get my woman's time, you will have to seek me a few supplies.” She fumbled to lift her skirts and took her time doing it.

“Is there ever going to be a time when ye're nae a pain in the arse?”

She dropped her skirts and paused, making certain to remove her smile before she turned to face him. “No, but you should've taken that into consideration when you decided to hold me against my will and treat me no better than an animal.” She closed the distance between them. “Let's go then, shall we?”

“I give ye fair warning that—”

“Yes, I know. You'll kill me if I try to escape. A moment of privacy, that's all I ask.” She pointed behind him. “Is the path that way?”

“Aye, but nay tricks.” He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, as if she needed a subtle warning, and he followed her up the rocks.
“Feuch nach tuit thu.”

“Pardon? You do realize that I'm English. I don't speak a word of Gaelic.”

His tone was impatient. “See ye donna fall.”

“You have no trouble warning me that you'll kill me if I try to escape, but you're telling me to be careful so that I don't fall and injure myself? I'll never pretend to understand men.”

“If I hear that sharp tongue of yours one more time, I'm going to cut it out and hand it to ye.”

When she hesitated, looking over her shoulder, he almost bumped into her. “I have to say, you must really know how to woo the ladies.”

He pushed her forward. “Behave.”

They walked a path that was not easily seen, one rock looking like the next. If there were any visible markers, she didn't see them. When they reached the top of the ridge, a thick line of trees was in front of her. She didn't have much of a choice. That would have to do. She said a silent prayer that she had mustered the courage to follow through with her scheme.

“If you'd be kind enough to wait here, I'll walk into that grass over there in between the trees. Would that be all right with you?”

He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Aye, but donna attempt to—”

She walked away from him. “Oh, I know, or you'll kill me.”

Grace made her way into the tree line, lifting her skirts to avoid getting tangled in the brush. She was flanked by waist-high golden grass. Both the nearby tree trunk and the tall grasses provided enough cover to shield her. She fumbled underneath her skirts, and when she felt the hilt of the blade in her hand, she unsheathed her weapon.

In all her years, she never tried to maim another person, because there hadn't been a single instance in which she'd feared for her life or that of her family. But the man left her with no other alternative. She needed to injure him, slow him down, and then she'd be able to make her escape. She refused to be bargained over by the mercenaries to draw Uncle Walter or Ravenna near, only to have the men kill a member of her family.

At that moment, Grace knew she was making the ultimate sacrifice because if she was caught, the guard wouldn't hesitate. He'd end her life without even thinking twice. To her surprise, the decision was less complicated than she'd thought. The choice was her family's safety or leaving this man whole to kill another innocent victim.

The time was now or never, and failure was not an option.

Once Grace and her dagger were in position, she paid attention to every detail. When she thought she was ready, she pulled back her arm and found herself pummeled to the ground with a heavy thump.

* * *

“Na dean sin.” Don't do that.
Fagan held Grace tight by his side on the ground, and when she met his eyes, she gasped, pulling his head closer and smacking her lips to his.

“I knew you were alive!”

The lass continued to plant kisses over his cheeks, his eyes, and his head. His face was wet with her tears, and he was never so happy to see her well. For days, he'd been mad with worry.

“Shhh… I'm relieved to see ye too, but we donna want to alert the guard.”

“My lady!”

She stiffened beneath him. “I'm feeling a little better! I just need but a few more moments! Thank you!”

Fagan gazed down at her and smiled. “I donna even want to know.”

She brought her hand to his cheek. “At times I feared the worst, but I prayed for your safety every day. How did you survive?”

“I was knocked out. The bastards thought I was dead and left Calum there to bleed to death. When I woke up, Calum told me what had happened. I was able to patch him up and the next day sent him off to seek Ruairi and men in arms.”

“Oh, Fagan. There is so much that I want—need—to tell you.”

“Whatever 'tis ye have to tell me can wait.” He reached over in the grass and handed her the dagger. “Place this back under your skirts now. They havenae harmed ye, have they?”

“Nothing that I wasn't able to handle. How do we get out of here?”

He brushed back the loose tendrils that had fallen into her face. “Ye have to trust me. Ye need to return with the guard until Ruairi brings more men—”

She shook her head. “I cannot. Please don't make me go back in there. Listen to me. These men hold me because a servant on Orkney had some type of evidence about the Earl of Orkney. The mercenaries have since killed the servant, but the woman was able to give this information to Uncle Walter or Ravenna before she died. That's why they hold me. They're going to kill my uncle or my sister before either one of them is able to deliver the information to the king in Edinburgh. The problem is… I don't know which one of them has the evidence. I must come with you. If I'm not held prisoner, I can't be used to bargain against them.”

Grace's eyes widened as Fagan felt the tip of the blade at his back.

“That's verra true, my lady. 'Tis good that we still have ye then, aye? Get up verra slowly and drop your sword to the ground.”

Fagan let out a heavy sigh, and then he lifted himself from Grace. “Let the lass go and take me in her stead.”

The red-haired man laughed. “I donna think so. I will nae tell ye again to drop your sword to the ground, and while ye're at it, ye can throw away the blade ye carry in your boot.”

As Fagan removed the sword from his scabbard, he hesitated. Grace sat in the grass, and he cast a determined look at her. She knew not to move. Without giving the bastard behind him any warning, Fagan spun around as steel met steel. He thrust and parried with the mercenary with every intention of removing the bastard's head from his shoulders. At least that was what he'd hoped.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted two armed guards making haste toward Grace. The lass had her back toward the men and didn't even know they were coming. He wouldn't chance her being harmed or take a risk that she might do something rash. He had to protect her—even if that meant protecting her from herself—so he did the only thing that came to mind. He held up his arms and yielded, dropping his sword to the ground.

Grace sprung to her feet and stood between Fagan and the guard. “Please don't kill him.”

Fagan placed his hands on her shoulders and tried to move her to the side, but she wouldn't budge. “Grace…”

“What kind of man are ye that ye hide behind the skirts of a lass, eh?” The men threw back their heads and roared with laughter. “Mayhap he's nae a man at all? Tell me… Does the lass hold your bollocks for ye as well?”

“He's more of a man than any of you ever will be!”

One of the guards removed Fagan's blade from his boot. When Grace lowered her arm and her fingers trailed down her thigh, Fagan stilled her hand. Now was not the time to lose their only weapon.

The guard grabbed Grace forcefully by the arm. “Come. Ye should be happy that ye have a companion to share the darkness with now—well, until the captain returns and decides what to do with our new guest. Back in the dark ye go with nay food and water for your insolence.”