by Victoria Zak
“Aye.”
“Oh dear God!” Effie covered her mouth and began to pace.
Neil looked suspiciously at Effie. “Do ye know that man?”
Effie stopped mid-step and turned to face Neil. “Aye.”
“Lass, he was here to discuss some unsavory business dealings with yer father. But when he arrived, yer da had already passed on.”
“This is some kind of trickery, but for what? What does he gain?”
“It was the only way to bring ye home. I think we both know why?”
“Aye, to be chief.” The puzzle pieces were finally beginning to make sense. The attack was a diversion, so someone else could get away with murder then accuse Conall of it. Tavish was a greedy bastard. He was capable of committing murder, that she knew for sure, but could he have killed father?
Knowing she would come back home, Tavish could use Conall to make her do his bidding. But marry Sir Henry, why? There were several wealthy houses he could ally with, why Henry? Why England?
“Neil, do ye think Tavish murdered father?”
Neil looked around for wandering eyes and ears. “Aye, I do,” he whispered.
“We have to do something aboot it. An innocent man can no’ be accused of a crime he didnae commit.”
Furthermore she would not stand by and allow Conall to suffer because of her brother’s evil ways. Effie began to pace again, conjuring a plan to help Conall escape. “Neil, I need to see the prisoner. Can ye help me?”
A wariness came about Neil as he nodded his head. “Aye.”
“Good.” Effie began to make her way back to the castle. “I want to see him now.”
“Wait, not now.” Neil stopped her. “His chamber is well guarded. I’ll come for ye tonight. But first I must give you this.” Neil reached into his jerkin and handed her a rolled missive. “Yer father wanted ye to have it.”
Effie looked at the scroll and back to Neil as if she was afraid to touch it. Father’s last words. Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach, her chest tightened. Taking the letter gently, she realized she was too upset to read it.
“Lass, I’ll come for ye tonight. Until then stay in your bedchamber,” Neil ordered, leaving Effie to absorb this new-found information.
Trepidation crashed through her like waves and threatened to drag her down deep into hysteria. Emotions that she had thought were long buried, bubbled to the surface. The sorrow she felt for the loss of her father made her heart ache, and the thought of losing Conall shattered her soul.
Somehow she had to find a way to get Conall out of this mess and not be caught in the process, for she blamed herself. She should have known that she could never escape Tavish. He was always lurking, planning his next scheme. Not only did she suffer from his evilness, now her father had been a victim, and if she didn’t do something about it Conall would end up the same way.
Wiping a fallen tear from her cheek, she squared her shoulders and made her way to her bedchamber. She’d be damned if she lost both men she loved by the hands of her brother.
Effie quickly opened her bedchamber door and stepped inside. “Maggie” she called out, with no reply. Hmmm, where is Maggie? Mayhap she’s stayed at her ma’s house for the night, she thought. Strange, she thought Maggie would have said something. Brushing off the worry, Effie walked over to a table that sat next to the hearth and splashed her face with some water from the wash basin.
As she was patting her face dry, she noticed her harp that sat neatly in the corner of the room. Instantly her long, elegant fingers itched to strum its strings. Effie walked over and took the harp in her hands, sitting down in the chair that it had rested on. As if it were second nature, she closed her eyes and began to play a tune and hummed along with it.
Nothing could compare, nor soothe her soul like playing the harp. The world ceased to exist when she was behind the stringed piece of heaven. With feather-light touches she stroked through the chords with the grace of a saint. If she played loud enough, perhaps Conall would hear it and it would quiet his soul as well, she hoped.
Chapter 10
Time would always be the bane of his existence. There was no starting point for Conall, at least not one he remembered, nor was there an ending. Time didn’t exist in his world. His soul was eternal as if he were some divine deity. But one promise that always held true to Dragonkine was that a warrior without his mate to calm him was an untamed beast.
As Conall sat reflecting, he could feel his dragon rattling in its cage, foaming at the mouth, ready for bloodshed. He desperately needed to get out of here and fast.
The meal, more like slop, was sticky porridge and stale bread that was harder than rocks. Conall broke off a piece of the day-old bread and popped it in his mouth. He chewed his frustrations out on it, for there seemed to be no way out of this hell.
The iron bars stood firm and if his suspicions were right they were laced with magic. In fact the entire holding cell had been spelled with magic; he could feel it. His wounds had not healed, he was weak, and his dragon was locked up tighter than a virgin before her wedding night. No doubt in his mind, someone had gone to great lengths and measures to ensure he’d stay captive and vulnerable.
In his peripheral vision he saw a movement as a small creature scurried across the dusty dirt floor and over to Conall’s porridge bowl. Acting on instincts because that was all he had left, he grabbed a small rock and threw it at the creature, hitting it. It let out a high-pitched squeal and scampered off. “Bloody rats,” Conall hissed.
“Looks to me ye found yerself a friend,” Caden jested.
“Bugger off ye lout. I’m in no mood for yer jesting.” Conall popped another piece of bread in his mouth.
“Och, lout? That’s the pot calling the cauldron black.” Caden obviously had no boundaries when it came to his mouth. Just like a young lad, he was full of himself. Brawn with no good sense about him. At least that’s what Conall saw.
Conall brushed the lad off as if he could care less about his bantering.
The rat came back for another try at his porridge. This time Conall let the damn mangy rodent get a little closer, kicking at it when the time was right. Still the rat resisted his efforts.
“That thing sure has some bollocks,” Caden added.
Conall laid his head back to rest it on the wall behind him. He no longer had the fight within him to even ward off the furry creature, so he let the rat have his bowl of cold mess.
“Ye dinnae look good.” Caden squatted in front of Conall, observing how pale his cellmate had gotten. “Dinnae tell me yer giving up on that lass.”
“’Tis no concern of yers,” Conall croaked, swallowing hard. “Let me be.”
Caden shook his head at the stubborn man. “I’ll see if I can fetch ye some water.” He stood and walked over to the bars without touching them. “Guard!” he called out with no reply. “We need water!”
As if he had fallen into some kind of state between consciousness and a dream, he swore he heard the faintest hum of a harp being played. He had to be delusional, yet his impeccable sense of hearing did not deceive him. There it was again, the softly stroked tunes soothing his body. Aye, Effie was behind those notes, for she could play the harp like an angel.
Conall closed his eyes and took in the enchanting music note by note, calming the whirlwind storm brewing inside to a peaceful standstill. Even his dragon purred in serene bliss.
Just when he thought he would give up, there was an overwhelming demand at the center of his gut pulling him to Effie as if she was the center of his universe, telling him to hold on. She was his everything, life would not be worth living if she wasn’t there to live it with him. A slight smile crept across his face as he listened to the music, just like that bloody rat that never gave up until it got what it wanted, Conall vowed he’d fight until his last breath for his Effie.
He must have dozed off, for the grinding moan of the dungeon’s doors startled him. He was waiting to hear the heavy footfalls of the guards as thei
r weapons clanged together, but it was silent, as though whoever had entered didn’t want to be heard.
And then there it was, sweeping over his body like a cool breeze scented with the smell of sweet honey, awakening every hardwired alpha male sense he had. Her smell was intoxicating.
Effie came into sight and Conall stood slowly, brushing the dust off his kilt. He must have looked like death, he thought, as he ran his fingers through his dirty brown hair, taming the curls. He now sported at least a fortnight of facial hair that itched him.
As he got closer to her, he didn’t know what was swirling around in that head of hers. Did she believe the rumors that Tavish had planted in her head? Furthermore, could she believe that he was capable of such a thing as murder? Aye, of course she knows I’m capable, I am a dragon. He reached the bars but treaded softly, unsure of how Effie would react to him.
Effie nervously approached the cell and sheepishly looked at the ground. “I’m sorry, I should have told ye about me past.”
“Why didnae ye tell me ye were a Maxwell?”
“I was ashamed, no’ of me name but of me past. Conall, Tavish did awful things to me. He blackmailed me.” She looked down at her hands. “There were times I wanted to tell ye, but I...I just couldn’t.”
“Effie, ’tis no’ yer fault. I love ye no matter what.” Conall came closer to the bars, slipped his arm through one of the slats and brushed away her hair from her face.
“Even if I was forced to be a whore?” Her voice shook as she fought back the tears.
Conall paused, his jaw tightened. He kept his composure in front of Effie, yet he raged inside and begged to wrap his hands around the bastard’s neck. “Effie, look at me.”
She did exactly what he said to do. She held his storm-gray eyes.
“’Tis no’ yer fault. Yer brother will pay heavily for what he has done to ye. Ye are not the same lass as ye were back then.”
Shaking her head, she agreed with him. She knew she was not at fault but still she felt ashamed.
“Ye’re hurt.” Effie pointed at the bloodstain on his tunic.
Conall looked down at it. “Aye, ye should see the other man.” He cocked a brow and grinned.
“I’m sorry I should have come to ye sooner. Ye’re wounded, are ye hurting?”
“Nay, I’m fine. What aboot ye? Are ye well?”
Effie shook her head no, for the words were lodged in her throat. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked up at Conall.
“Och, lass, dinnae cry. I’ll find a way to get us oot of here.” Conall wiped her tears away.
“’Tis no’ possible, Conall. My brother has accused ye of murder and isnae going to give ye a fair trial. A trial by combat has been issued as punishment.”
Sternly Conall stared into Effie’s green depths. “I do no’ care about a trial. I need to know, Effie, do ye believe I killed yer father?”
“Nay, I know ye’re innocent. ’Tis all Tavish’s doing to bring me back home. I’m so sorry.”
Conall’s jaw ticked again when he heard the bastard’s name.
Effie observed Conall’s wounds. “Conall, yer wound is still bleeding and it looks deep.”
Alas he couldn’t hide the fact that he had been stabbed. His tunic had been sliced and was now stained with blood.
“And ye dinnae look good.”
“Och, lass, I am in a dungeon.”
“Stop jesting. I’m serious.” Effie looked down the corridor. Neil had taken care of the guards for at least the night. No man, even a Sassenach, could turn down a few drams of fine Scottish whiskey. The guards would be piss drunk long into the next morn.
Fishing a key from her basket, Effie began to unlock the cell. “I’m going to get ye oot of here.”
Conall stood stiff with concern. Had she gone daft? He was a prisoner, surely she knew if she released him that they both had to escape, together, which would not be an easy task. He had no plan, no weapons, and he was too weak to shift.
“What are ye doing? If ye’re going to release me then we go together. I won’t allow ye to stay and take the punishment from my escape.”
Effie paused before opening the door. “Conall, ye must shift and leave this Godforsaken place. Me brother won’t stop until I’ve suffered enough and ye’re dead!”
“Lass, I can no’ shift, I’m too weak.”
“Och, then we’ll have to heal ye.” Effie pushed forward.
Conall didn’t think he could ever love another woman more than he loved Effie right now. The moment her freckled face and red, curly hair came into view, his body had instantly reacted. He ached for her touch; his dragon purred in contentment just by the sound of her voice.
If he wasn’t covered in dungeon filth, blood, and dirt, as soon as she opened the damn door, he would take her right now. Pin her up against the sandstone wall, slide her dress up over the curve of her hips, and glide into her womanhood relentlessly until he felt the bittersweet sting of her nails across his back. Then he would do it all over again.
The lock clicked and Effie swung the door open but quickly halted when a shadow appeared from the corner of the cell. A tall brawny man with blond hair stepped out into the light with his arms folded at his chest. The glow from the torches darkened his scowl, making him look even more menacing and dangerous.
Conall turned to face his cellmate. Without any words being said, he flashed his storm-gray reptilian eyes at Caden, daring him to protest his departure.
In response, Caden nodded his head and retreated into the shadows.
“Who is that?” Effie asked with wide eyes.
“That’s Caden.” Conall nodded toward the shadow. “Dinnae fash yerself over him. He’ll behave.”
Until Conall stepped out of the prison bars he hadn’t realized how much he missed his freedom. While Effie relocked the gate, he stood behind her and inhaled deeply into her hair breathing in her honey scent. By the saints, he’d missed her.
Effie turned to leave and bumped into a solid mass of sinew and muscle. Conall pinned her with his storm raging eyes. He took her face in his hands and said, “Thank ye, lass.”
Immobilized, Effie stared up at him and for a moment time stood still; the dungeon melted away, the moaning sounds of prisoners were muted, and all that mattered was the two of them. Perhaps immortality wasn’t so bad after all, for he could spend eternity staring into her forest-green eyes.
Effie broke their trance as she took a step back and grabbed a fiery torch. “We dinnae have much time. Follow me.”
Walking briskly down the corridor, bypassing several prison folk, some wasting away into nothing while others paced their cells with vengeful steps, she rounded the corner to a dead-end wall. What looked to be a wall of sandstone turned into a secret door as soon as Effie placed the key into a hidden keyhole.
The hideaway door was stone, and strong, making it hard to open. Effie shouldered it a few times and it wouldn’t budge. “Damn door! Open!” Effie cursed through clenched teeth.
“Here, let me try.” Effie stepped aside, giving Conall enough room to slide in. With one shove and enough power behind it to shatter the stone into dust, Conall opened the door. Even as weak as he was, it surprised him how much strength he had left in him.
The torch now lit a secret passageway that snaked in multiple directions. Conall grabbed her arm believing she was leading him out of the castle. “Effie, what are you up to?”
“This castle has a lot of secrets Conall, this one happens to be mine.” Effie smirked.
About fifty paces down the main passageway, past three branching corridors a ladder came into view. Once up the ladder, another shorter corridor, then another door. This door lead to a secret room where Effie could escape Tavish’s reach. She knew the room all too well. Over the years, she spent countless hours here pondering her escape. Many times her daydreams would include a brave Highlander coming to her rescue. Effie smiled as she realized her secret room was now helping her rescue her brave Highlander.
&nbs
p; Conall shut the door behind them as Effie lit a fire in the hearth. The room was quaint, yet warm and inviting. With a fire now burning, the room was given a soft glow. Positioned in front of the flames was a wooden tub, large enough for a Dragonkine Highlander. Effie had already started heating water for a bath. To his uttermost satisfaction, a four-poster bed, billowing with pillows and furs sat to the left of the room. His cock hardened as he thought about Effie, naked, and lying on that bed waiting for him.
Suddenly an apple was shoved at his chest. “Eat this, while I fetch a chair.” Effie gave him an I-know-what-you’re-thinking smile.
~~~~~
Shortly Effie returned and placed the chair next to the tub. With the seductive vibe Conall was throwing her she would be lucky to wrap his wounds in time before he had her underneath him. Which wasn’t a bad idea at all; in fact she yearned to touch him, to feel his weight on top of her, exploring his tight muscled body. That was also the best way to speed up the healing process, stir the dragon.
Testing the warmness of the water, she brought her hand up from the tub, flicking it at Conall and peppering him in water droplets. “Clothes off.” She nodded to the tub.
Conall stalked to it, removing his tunic along the way. “As ye wish,” he winked, “though in my weakened state, I will need some assistance removing me plaid. The pin is quite tricky.”
Effie rolled her eyes. As she approached him she could feel the warmth radiating from his body causing her skin to sweat. Effie didn’t dare look him in the eye as she focused on the material wrapped around his waist, unfolding the plaid. As she finished, she hustled just out of his reach and took his dirty clothes to another wash bin to soak.
Hisses of pain brought her attention back to Conall as he slowly submerged himself in the water. Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. She wished she could take his pain away. Effie hurried out of her dress, not wanting to get it wet, but left her shift on. After she’d pinned her hair up, she grabbed some soap and sat down in the chair next to the tub.
Taking a small cup, she dipped it into the water and lazily wet his hair then took the soap and lathered it in her hands. Threading her fingers through his dark brown hair, she noticed it had grown some since the last time she had seen him; it now curled just below his ears. Conall leaned his head back, almost reaching her lap, and closed his eyes, moaning as she gently massaged his head. It pleased her to know that she was easing his pain.