Jonathan paused.
The man’s eyebrows rose with amusement. “I imagine you would.”
Jonathan slipped back into the blanket of shadows.
The guard leaned toward her. “I do this suck and twirl thing with my tongue—you’d not forget.”
Brianna swallowed a horrified gasp. “Perhaps you can show me later.”
“Indeed I will.” He pulled the door open and held it, his back facing the castle.
Her heart shrank from what she was about to do. Grotesque though it was, the act would save the guard’s life and keep their presence unknown. Extra minutes could not be wasted on discovery. They were too valuable.
She leaned against him and pressed her lips to his. A gentle, teasing kiss that would have left Colin smiling against her mouth. One just long enough for Jonathan to slip into the manor behind the man.
“I’ll see you at dawn,” she said in a voice that passed for sultry.
“I look forward to it.” His chest puffed out.
Brianna strolled around him. A muffled thwack popped across her bottom. Her eyes went wide with the realization that he’d just spanked her rump.
Moonlight filtered through the dirty lead-encased windows and cast twisted reflections down the hall. The scent of old wood and smoke pulled at memories buried deep, memories of her cousin’s cruel pranks and heated arguments between her father and uncle.
Jonathan appeared at her side. His head craned toward her, his voice barely a whisper. “Did he just swat your—er—” he glanced back at her offended bottom.
Brianna held up a hand to still his tongue. “Don’t.”
“The laird would have preferred I kill the man.”
“Your laird wouldn’t have had to sneak in.”
She eased forward on the balls of her feet. Distorted shadows clawed her deeper into their concealing embrace with each step.
First they would check the dungeon. Heaven help Colin if he were in there.
Together, she and Jonathan made fast, efficient work of threading through the complex weave of halls. Thus far without encounter.
Brianna layered her back against the stone wall and glanced around the corner toward the dungeon door. A man with cropped black hair leaned against a deep-set doorframe, his face relaxed.
She glanced at Jonathan and held up her forefinger, indicating she saw only one guard. The hard line of his lips reflected his regret of their previous agreement that she be allowed to address single guards without his aid. She saw it as a way to save lives. No doubt he saw it as a risk.
However, her success with the previous guard fueled her confidence and lent her courage. She gathered her skirts in her hands, exposing the tops of her ankles, and strode into the hallway lit with the warm glow of several rush nips.
The man eyed her from his station in front of the dungeon door, and a flicker of apprehension rippled through her.
She recognized this man. He had been with her uncle for some time now.
Of course, she did not appear as herself. Perhaps he would not know her.
“I’m lost,” she said with a little pout.
He turned his body toward her. His shoulders were broad, his chest powerful. Truly every part of the man appeared enormous.
“Lost?” His face remained blank.
No recognition lit his eyes, and a wave of relief swept across her jagged nerves.
She brushed her fingers over the tops of her breasts, but his gaze did not follow. “I came in from the back door as instructed and got lost.”
He nodded.
And said nothing.
Silence pressed upon her and made her hands clammy with unease.
“Perhaps you might point me in the right direction?” she prompted.
His arms folded over his chest. Massive arms. Arms that could rival tree trunks.
Arms that could rival Colin’s.
She clasped her hands behind her back so her breasts thrust forward. His steady gaze still did not leave her eyes.
“Am I at least going the right way?” she asked.
“Girls don’t come in through the rear entrance.”
Her stomach flipped with a nervous lurch.
“As lost as I am, I can see why.” She forced a lightness to her tone.
He stepped forward, towering over her. His gaze dipped to her bodice and his tongue ran across his lower lip. “They haven’t had you yet?”
A trickle of ice raced down her spine and made the hair on her arms rise. “I’m lost, as I said.”
His hand covered her breast and squeezed hard enough to elicit a needle of pain. “I charge a fee for directions.” He shoved her backward, and her head smacked into the wall behind her. A squeak of surprise escaped her mouth, enough of a sound for Jonathan to hear.
Her balance swayed, and an insistent warning blared in her aching head. She was no longer in control.
The man covered her body with his, his excited breath stale where it rushed against her skin.
Where was Jonathan?
A whimper choked from her throat, an uncontrolled cry of weakness. She chanced a look down the hall to where he should be. No movement, no Jonathan. Nothing.
Her heart shriveled in her chest.
Had Jonathan been captured? If he had been, there would be no one to save her from this man.
“I don’t think Lord Lindsay would like you—”
The man covered her mouth with his hand and jerked her head to the side.
Her vision swam with tears. Marie’s lessons never covered such aggression.
Dread swirled thick in her stomach.
She was at the giant’s mercy. And he had none.
She could cry out, but only her uncle’s men would hear her.
The guard’s breath was hot against her ear. “Perhaps we should make your husband watch.” He grasped her arm painfully and shoved her toward the door.
Brianna fumbled in her skirts, seeking the dagger she should have had at the ready. Her trembling fingers sifted through yards of fabric with no end. Where was the slit of her pocket?
The man wrenched the door open and jerked her toward the darkened room. The silk-encased dagger bounced against her thigh, a tease of security she could not reach.
He pulled her deeper into the room where the soft light outside did not touch, her slippers skittering across pebbles and grit.
The door slammed behind them and plunged them into black. The man tensed at her side.
Someone else had seen it shut.
His breathing remained deep and even. He was not frightened.
The grip on her elbow loosened and released her into tentative freedom. She stepped back while facing him. Her feet went nowhere certain, floating through a world she could not see.
Something hard pressed into her back and ceased her measured escape. Her hands danced behind her with slow, cautious pats. Steel bars met her curious exploration, hard and flaking with filth. And yet she gripped them as though they might somehow save her.
Silence descended, and the air crackled with the tension of impending death.
Ragged breathing filled the quiet. Hers.
She pressed a hand to her mouth to still the harsh sound. Her fingers stunk of soiled metal.
Footsteps shuffled across the ground and a rock screeched upon the hard floor. The soft thump of two bodies colliding. Grunts.
She should escape to search for Colin, she should locate her dagger. Yet coward that she was, all she could do was stand idly and tremble.
An unnatural tearing sound interrupted the scuffling fight. A choked gasp. Something dripped to the hard floor.
A copper odor seeped into the air and triggered a primitive reaction. Her body burned with the need to fight, an urge so powerful, it drowned her panic.
Her fingers moved of their own volition, past the paralyzing fear, and tore at her flimsy skirts. The offending pocket ripped in her desperation and freed the length of steel that would come between her and rape. Between her and deat
h.
Footsteps sounded in the dark, moving in her direction.
Something gurgled. Wet with the defeat of death.
Her fingers tightened on the dagger. She would not die without a fight.
Chapter Forty-One
Brianna’s eyes strained into the pressing black. The stench of blood was thick in the air, the metallic taste of it tinged every breath.
“My lady.”
She leapt at the sound of the voice before recognizing its owner. Jonathan.
Her body sagged beneath her relief. She tried to say his name, but all that emerged was a shuddering exhale.
He squeezed her shoulders. “That was the last time I allow you to go forward without me. You are to drop your ruse at once, do you understand?” His grip softened. “My lady.”
She knew he could not see her nod, yet her throat would not work to speak her agreement.
“And if you ever find yourself alone with a guard,” he continued. “Please ensure his back is facing me so I don’t have to travel to the other side of the hall to sneak up on him.”
Her cheeks heated with shame. She had placed them both in danger with her lack of knowledge. For all the books she had read on war, nothing had truly prepared her for what she faced.
“There’s another door through here,” Jonathan said. “I saw it before I locked us in. I believe the dungeon lies on the other side.”
Colin.
“It does.” Her dry voice cracked.
“Are you all right?” Jonathan asked.
“Yes. Please—Colin.”
His hand grasped hers, and together they stumbled through the penetrating darkness.
She felt his body jerk backward, and the groan of a heavy door tore into the silence. A decayed odor swept cold against her cheeks. They eased down unseen stairs and pressed deeper into the pit of fear.
Pray God they would find Colin.
Alive.
• • •
“Colin.”
He stirred. A voice called him from the embrace of slumber. Reality skimmed the border of his conscious mind, stark and ugly. He did not want to be there.
His arms curled tighter around his torso in an attempt to cradle fleeting warmth.
“Colin.”
Again the voice beckoned, dragging him toward something he did not want to face.
“Colin.”
The voice caressed his ears, closer now. A delicate fragrance wafted above the stench of shit and decay. Lavender.
His eyes flew open. “Brianna?”
Only darkness met his desperate search. He would have thought himself dreaming were it not for the sweet warmth he sensed beside him. He sucked in a greedy lungful of her familiar scent.
“Colin.” The tremble of her tone pulled at his aching heart.
Her arms came around him, and everything silky and soft he remembered collapsed against him. He buried his nose in her hair and breathed deeply. “My God, ye smell so good.”
“I should have come sooner.” Her voice muffled against his neck. “I didn’t realize my uncle would—” She tightened her embrace. “Forgive me.”
“Ye have nothing to apologize for, my love.” He tugged her into his lap, grateful his manacles had been removed earlier, and held tight the curves of her body as he’d hungered to do, as even his most vivid dreams could not recreate. “I’m the one who must beg forgiveness, for hurting ye, for lying to ye for so long. Everything I said about my arrival to Edzell—it was all true.” The confession caught in his throat.
He felt her pull back, but he tightened his hold, the way a drowning man might cling to a sturdy vessel.
“I know,” she said. “You were denied your inheritance and you have no land. You sought me to gain all that your father would not grant you.”
Her words slipped through his gut like a dagger.
“It was a purpose schemed before I met ye,” he said. “Before I knew ye.”
“Colin—”
“Ye came to say goodbye. Thank ye. I canna imagine having never had a chance to explain.” He swallowed against his thickening words. “I dinna want to die without telling ye the truth, without telling ye it’s no—”
“Colin, we are here to rescue you.”
His mind scrambled to comprehend the most beautiful declaration ever spoken. “What?”
“We must leave now. Please, come. We can speak when we are home.”
Home.
He pressed his head to her chest and felt the pounding of her heart beneath the bosom of her low cut bodice. Of her extremely low cut bodice. The satiny sleeves of her dress curled around his head, drawing him closer.
He nuzzled the pillowy warmth of her bosom. “Mmmm…I like yer dress verra much.”
“You cannot see my dress, husband.” Her tone held a smile he could picture in his mind.
“I dinna have to see it to appreciate it.” His chest filled with one final breath of her sweet perfume before he allowed her to pull him to his feet.
His legs tingled with disuse and his muscles fired with the need to run. He wanted Brianna as far from this hell as possible.
• • •
Brianna’s hand was tucked in the safety of Colin’s fingers, and Jonathan moved silently at her side. The darkness had lost its edge.
Colin navigated them down an unseen path with his usual confidence, his footsteps never faltering.
His thumb brushed the inside of her wrist, as if confirming she was indeed there. The same way she’d continued to tighten her grip on his hand. A delicate shiver trickled down her spine.
The stench of spilled blood swam thick in the air. They were near the guard Jonathan had killed. Brianna squeezed her eyes shut and tried to focus on the positive.
The man’s body meant they were near the door leading them from the dungeon.
She opened her eyes at the gentle creak of a door opening. Light spilled into the room, yet Brianna kept her stare fixed straight ahead. She did not want to witness the unseen nightmares in the darkness behind her.
The three of them eased into the empty hall. Silence.
Brianna glanced up at Colin. Purple showed beneath his eyes and dirt streaked his skin. He had lost weight in the five days he’d been in captivity.
Aside from the yellowed bruise healing on his cheek, he was unharmed.
His gaze darted down the hall, opposite the way she and Jonathan had come.
“We must go,” Brianna said.
Colin’s jaw clenched. “No yet.”
She glanced to the other end of the hall where Jonathan scouted for guards. He nodded, signaling they were clear to escape.
She turned back to Colin. “Please, we must go.”
He looked down at her, and his gaze lingered over her face. “Ye’re so verra bonny.” The dimple in his cheek showed at the lazy lift of his lips. “Ye go on ahead. I’ll be just a moment.” He winked down at her and turned away.
Her mouth fell open, but before she could protest, he released her hand and slid down the hallway, turning right instead of left. The warm imprint where his fingers clasped her palm cooled too quickly.
She could not let him go, not now. Not so soon after having finally been reunited.
She waved toward Jonathan, signaling her intent before turning down the hall and following Colin’s careful steps. Her fingertips pressed to her mouth as if the motion could keep her movements all the more silent.
Jonathan followed at the same comfortable pace they’d kept when navigating the halls earlier.
The manor had been too quiet for far too long. An unsettling flutter churned in the pit of her stomach.
Colin slipped around the corner and disappeared from view.
Still no sound, save the deafening pumping of her heart.
They should be in the forest by now, on their way back to Edzell. Not creeping deeper into the bowels of danger.
She hugged the stone corner of the wall and tried to keep up with Colin.
Her uncle hired too many
mercenaries. Surely they walked throughout the entire manor repeatedly. A chill raised the hair on her arms. Surely they had to notice the dungeon’s missing guard.
Colin moved ahead of her still, making his way toward a door with the same simple wood and metal-banded style as all the others. Yet this one was different. This one was barred from her as a child. It held a note of mystery bathed in dark secrets. And apparently it held interest for her husband as well.
Colin gripped the handle and cracked open the door to her uncle’s solar.
Chapter Forty-Two
Colin’s muscles burned hot with the strain of his slow, quiet movements. The banded metal door stood between him and the signet ring, between him and everything he had fought for.
The door swung open without a sound.
Unlocked as it had been before.
A low fire pulsed in the hearth, adding heat to a room where none was needed. Red embers tinged the subtle light and sparkled against the silver box. Colin’s pulse thrummed with his triumph.
The matted carpet beneath his feet masked his quickened steps. He covered the domed top of the box with his hand and pulled back the lid.
The gold signet ring glittered victoriously against the stained velvet lining. He slipped its weight from the box and onto his finger. Where it belonged. Unlike everything hot and sweltering in the room, the metal band was cool, comforting.
“Colin, someone comes.” Brianna’s low whisper slashed through his thoughts.
He spun around to find both her and Jonathan in the room. How the hell had he not heard them following him? And why the hell did they not leave as he instructed?
Colin blocked Brianna’s body with his own and reached for the hilt of his sword. His fingers met the naked fabric of his leine. The scabbard he always wore draped across his back was still at Edzell, left upon his arrest.
He had no weapon.
The steps drew closer. His pulse raced and spun in his skull. His vision blurred. He’d gone too long without a proper meal.
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