COLIN’S entire body throbbed with pain. The memory of everything that happened so quickly didna aid in him trying to reason why the laird didna give him more time. Perhaps the bastard already knew he’d reject the alliance and the proposal. He hadna been asleep for more than a few hours when he had been summoned again. Only he didna expect his refusal would have him whipped and tossed into the dungeon. One would expect to hurt to such an extent after battle, yet his situation was vastly different. Sinclair was making headway in taking over his lands. What he needed was his men here this instant to pull him out of this and take vengeance on this bastard.
He attempted to sit up, yet when he stirred, his back stung like a son of hoore. They’d whipped him within an inch of his life.
Moments after he’d attempted to shift his position, the lass who had been sent to his room on his first night joined him.
“Please let me help ye. I’ve been sent to stay here until ye’ve recovered.”
Colin didna enjoy being an invalid, but the presence of the lass diverted his attentions from pain into something far more pleasant.
She aided him up until he was upright, examining his back.
“If I can keep these clean, they’ll heal perfectly.”
He nodded, ignoring how depleted and devoid of energy he was.
“Aside from yer back and side, do ye hurt anywhere else?”
My loins, he wanted to say. The lass was tempting, though he was in no condition to entertain a woman at this time. Which then led him to other pressing thoughts. Sinclair’s daughters. He’d rather die a thousand deaths than be leg shackled to one of those creatures, most especially the dark-haired daughter, Rowena. She reminded him much of her father. Bold and presumptuous. He had to find a way out of this fine mess. There simply was no other way other than to involve his allies. Armstrong and MacNeil didna trust Sinclair or those in his circle of allies. They trusted no one else in all the Highlands, and if they objected, he could only imagine what the council would have said.
“What troubles ye, sir?”
“Other than the fine mess I’m in, I assure ye nothing else. I need a distraction. How is it that you’ve come to be here and confined to the dungeon?”
She stared at him, as if she didna know the answer herself.
“It was either this or the commander would see that I was raped by his soldiers. Ye tell me, sir. What choice would ye have made?”
“Och. I am sorry, lass. I am sorry that the arse would even suggest such a thing.”
“It wasna a suggestion. The commander does what he pleases, much like his laird.”
There was truth in what she said. If any of the rumors were true about Sinclair, he’d cut down the very man and clan over the woman he couldna have. Such a sorry affair. His own wife had to live in the shadow of someone she wouldna never be and live with the knowledge that her husband’s disdain for her grew with each passing day. A punishment for not giving him a son. He’d heard over the last few months that he kept one of his mistresses within the keep too. The day Colin ever decided to take a bride, he’d have no other, at least that was his hope. There was much satisfaction to be had in the marriage bed if he was fortunate enough to find a willing and warm lass who was eager to learn.
He knew not what women expected other than to be protected and to be blessed with many children, yet everyone deserved to be satisfied.
Deep in his own thoughts, he’d failed to notice the lass had returned to the corner of the dungeon, huddled and hugging her knees. He couldna see her face from this distance, as she hid it behind her knees, but he did take notice of the weeping she was trying to do in silence.
Footsteps coming down the stairs pulled him away from the moment.
A manservant appeared with a platter of food, which he set down on the floor near the cell and quickly ran to the woman’s side.
“What troubles you, Beatrice?” he heard the man whisper.
The lass all but mumbled back and sniffled.
“I’ll return with Deirdre as soon as I can and she can be the judge of what ye have done to the prisoner.”
A few hours passed before he returned with an older woman.
“I’ve brought ye and Beatrice something to eat. How are yer wounds coming along, Laird McIntyre?”
“If yer asking if the lass has been taking care of me, she’s done a fine job of it so far. Tell me, what is the matter with her?”
“She’s been mistreated, and she hasn’t the foggiest idea how in the worst way. ’Tis one thing to being abused by the clan that is supposed to protect ye, but ’tis another to have been stolen from yer true clan. Yer birthright. Yer family. I wish there was a way we could rise up, but they’d cut us all down, starting with Beatrice. She has to remain out of sight.”
“Why is that?”
“For one thing, if she were to be present while serving Lady Sinclair, she’d know in an instant that her own husband had gone back on his word of destroying Beatrice’s entire clan. And for another, she is the last of her line. If anyone were to truly discover who she is, who’s to say what would happen to the laird’s power? Sinclair would surely execute her without haste.”
Colin’s curiosity was piqued. The servants were his way out, but he needed time.
“How long before she’s removed from the dungeon with my charge?”
“Not until yer wounds have healed sufficiently.”
Hmm…
An hour had gone by before the manservant and the healer left. On the woman’s way out, she paused at his cell and smiled.
“So…yer the laird needed saving, and yet ye are the key. Fate has an odd way of changing paths.”
She climbed the stairs without ever looking back, and Beatrice walked toward his cell.
“I apologize for my disgraceful behavior, laird. I hope the food Alec brought down was satisfactory?”
“It was as pleasant as it could possibly be for my situation. Thank ye for asking.”
A long time passed as they sat there in silence until the comely lass spoke again.
“I suppose the both of us should get some rest.”
“Indeed. Rest easy, lass. We’ll both be out of this pit soon enough.”
As his attendant walked away to a bed of straw across the room, he wondered what her countenance would be should she leave this clan behind. There was always room in his clan for a hard worker. She was an amiable creature with warm hands, gracious and humble. The lass did not belong here, nor did anyone else working under the terrible conditions Sinclair and the commander thrived on. Yet, there was something bewitching about her when their eyes met. Were it not for his current state, he’d take her into his arms and hold her. He’d protect her as his first instinct commanded him to do.
If he managed to escape this hellhole, he’d take the lass with him, and they’d sort this mess of her past together. If he managed to escape the keep, his retribution would be had. He’d cut down Sinclair and his commander with a flick of his wrist, and the remainder of his family would be banished from these lands.
The coming days would prove him to be the most patient man alive, but he would leave these lands alive.