Alana suddenly feared she had been confined with a true criminal, perhaps even a rapist or murderer. She smothered that brief surge of panic by telling herself sharply not to be such an idiot. The Gowans wanted to ransom her. Even they were not stupid enough to risk losing that purse by setting her too close to a truly dangerous man.
“Ransom,” he replied.
“Ah, me too. Are they roaming about the country plucking up people like daisies?”
Gregor chuckled and shook his head. “Only those who look as if they or their kinsmen might have a few coins weighting their purse. A mon was being ransomed e’en as they dragged me in. He was dressed fine, although his bonnie clothes were somewhat filthy from spending time in this hole. I was wearing my finest. I suspect your gown told them your kinsmen might have some coin. Did they kill your guards?”
Alana felt a blush heat her cheeks. “Nay, I was alone. I got a little lost.”
She was lying, Gregor thought. Either she was a very poor liar, or the dark had made his senses keener, allowing him to hear the lie in her voice. “I hope your kinsmen punish the men weel for such carelessness.”
Oh someone would most certainly be punished, Alana thought. There was no doubt in her mind about that. This was one of those times when she wished her parents believed in beating a child. A few painful strokes of a rod would be far easier to endure than the lecture she would be given and, even worse, the confused disappointment her parents would reveal concerning her idiocy and disobedience.
“How long have ye been down here?” she asked, hoping to divert his attention from how and why she had been caught.
“Two days, I think. ’Tis difficult to know for certain. They gave me quite a few blankets; a privy bucket, which they pull up and empty each day; and food and water twice a day. What troubles me is who will win this game of ye stay there until ye tell me what I want to know. My clan isnae really poor, but they dinnae have coin to spare for a big ransom. Nay when they dinnae e’en ken what the money will be used for.”
“Oh, didnae they tell ye?”
“I was unconscious for most of the time it took to get to this keep and be tossed in here. All I have heard since then is the thrice daily question about who I am. And I am assuming all these things happen daily, not just whene’er they feel inclined. There does seem to be a, weel, rhythm to it all. ’Tis how I decided I have been here for two days.” He thought back over the past few days, too much of it spent in the dark with his own thoughts. “If I judge it aright, this may actually be the end of the third day, for I fell unconscious again when they threw me in here. I woke up to someone bellowing that it was time to sup, got my food and water, was told about the privy bucket and that blankets had been thrown down here.”
“And ’tis night now. The moon was rising as we rode through the gates. So, three days in the dark. In a hole in the ground,” she murmured, shivering at the thought of having to endure the same. “What did ye do?”
“Thought.”
“Oh dear. I think that would soon drive me quite mad.”
“It wasnae a pleasant interlude.”
“It certainly isnae. I am nay too fond of the dark,” she added softly and jumped slightly when a long arm was somewhat awkwardly wrapped around her shoulders.
“No one is, especially not the unrelenting dark of a place like this. So, ye were all alone when they caught ye. They didnae harm ye, did they?”
The soft, gentle tone of his question made Alana realize what he meant by harm. It struck her as odd that not once had she feared rape, yet her disguise as a child was certainly not enough to save her from that. “Nay, they just grabbed me, cursed me a lot for being impudent, and tossed me over a saddle.”
Gregor smiled. “Impudent were ye?”
“That is as good a word for it as any other. There I was sitting quietly by a fire, cooking a rabbit I had been lucky enough to catch, and up ride five men who inform me that I am now their prisoner and that I had best tell them who I am so that they can send the ransom demand to my kinsmen. I told them that I had had a very upsetting day and the last thing I wished to deal with was smelly, hairy men telling me what to do, so they could just ride back to the rock they had crawled out from under. Or words to that effect,” she added quietly.
In truth, she thought as she listened to Gregor chuckle, she had completely lost her temper. It was not something she often did, and she suspected some of her family would have been astonished. The Gowans had been. All five men had stared at her as if a dormouse had suddenly leapt at their throats. It had been rather invigorating until the Gowans had realized they were being held in place by insults from someone they could snap in half.
It was a little puzzling that she had not eluded capture. She was very fast, something often mar veled at by her family; she could run for a very long way without tiring; and she could hide in the faintest of shadows. Yet mishap after mishap had plagued her as she had fled from the men, and they had barely raised a sweat in pursuing and capturing her. If she were a superstitious person, she would think some unseen hand of fate had been doing its best to make sure she was caught.
“Did they tell ye why they are grabbing so many for ransom?” Gregor asked.
“Oh, aye, they did.” Of course, one reason they had told her was because of all the things she had accused them of wanting the money for, such as useless debauchery and not something they badly needed like soap. “Defenses.”
“What?”
“They have decided that this hovel requires stronger defenses. That requires coin or some fine goods to barter with, neither of which they possess. I gather they have heard of some troubles not so far away, and it has made them decide that they are too vulnerable. From what little I could see whilst hanging over Clyde’s saddle, this is a very old tower house, one that was either neglected or damaged once, or both. It appears to have been repaired enough to be livable, but I did glimpse many things either missing or in need of repair. From what Clyde’s wife said, this small holding was her dowry.”
“Ye spoke to his wife?”
“Weel, nay. She was lecturing him from the moment he stepped inside all the way to the door leading down here. She doesnae approve of this. Told him that since he has begun this folly, he had best do a verra good job of it and gather a veritable fortune, for they will need some formidable defenses to protect them from all the enemies he is making.”
Alana knew she ought to move away from him. When he had first draped his arm around her, she had welcomed what she saw as a gesture intended to comfort her, perhaps even an attempt to ease the fear of the dark she had confessed to. He still had his arm around her, and she had slowly edged closer to his warmth until she was now pressed hard up against his side.
He was a very tall man. Probably a bit taller than her overgrown brothers, she mused. Judging from where her cheek rested so nicely, she barely reached his breastbone. Since she was five feet tall, that made him several inches over six feet. Huddled up against him as she was, she could feel the strength in his body despite what felt like a lean build. Considering the fact that he had been held in this pit for almost three days, he smelled remarkably clean as well.
And the fact that she was noticing how good he smelled told her she really should move away from him, Alana thought. The problem was, he felt good, very good. He felt warm, strong, and calming, all things she was sorely in need of at the moment. She started to console herself with the thought that she was not actually embracing him, only to realize that she had curled her arm around what felt like a very trim waist.
She inwardly sighed, ruefully admitting that she liked where she was and had no inclination to leave his side. He thought she was a young girl, so she did not have to fear him thinking she was inviting him to take advantage of her. Alone with him in the dark, there was a comforting anonymity about it as well. Alana decided there was no harm in it all. In truth, she would not be surprised to discover that he found comfort in it, too, after days of being all alone in the dark.
“Where were ye headed, lass? Is there someone aside from the men ye were with who will start searching for ye?” Gregor asked, a little concerned about how good it felt to hold her, even though every instinct he had told him that Alana was not the child she pretended to be.
“Quite possibly.” She doubted that the note she had left behind would do much to comfort her parents. “I was going to my sister.”
“Ah, weel, then, I fear the Gowans may soon ken who ye are e’en if ye dinnae tell them.”
“Oh, of course. What about you? Will anyone wonder where ye have gone?”
“Nay for a while yet.”
They all thought he was still wooing his well-dowered bride. Gregor had had far too much time to think about that, about all of his reasons for searching for a well-dowered bride and about the one he had chosen. Mavis was a good woman, passably pretty, and had both land and some coin to offer a husband. He had left her feeling almost victorious, the betrothal as good as settled, yet each hour he had sat here in the dark, alone with his thoughts, he had felt less and less pleased with himself. It did not feel right. He hated to think that his cousin Sigimor made sense about anything, yet it was that man’s opinion that kept creeping through his mind. Mavis did not really feel right. She did not really fit.
He silently cursed. What did it matter? He was almost thirty years of age, and he had never found a woman who felt right or who fit. Mavis gave him the chance to be his own man, to be laird of his own keep, and to have control over his own lands. Mavis was a sensible choice. He did not love her, but after so many years and so many women without feeling even a tickle of that, he doubted he was capable of loving any woman. Passion could be stirred with the right touch, and compatibility could be achieved with a little work. It would serve.
He was just about to ask Alana how extensive a search her kinsmen would mount for her when he heard the sound of someone approaching above them. “Stand o’er there, lass,” he said as he nudged her to the left. “ ’Tis time for the bucket to be emptied and food and water lowered down to us. I dinnae want to be bumping into ye.”
Alana immediately felt chilled as she left his side. She kept inching backward until she stumbled and fell onto a pile of blankets. She moved around until she was seated on them, her back against the cold stone wall. The grate was opened, and a rope with a hook at the end of it was lowered through the opening. The lantern this man carried produced enough light to at least allow them to see that rope. Gregor moved around as if he could see, and Alana suspected he had carefully mapped out his prison in his mind. She watched the bucket being raised up and another being lowered down. As Gregor reached for that bucket, she caught a faint glimpse of his form. He was indeed very tall and very lean. She cursed the darkness for hiding all else from her.
“We will need two buckets of water for washing in the morn,” Gregor called up to the man, watching him as he carefully lowered the now empty privy bucket.
“Two?” the man snapped. “Why two?”
“One for me and one for the lass.”
“Ye can both wash from the same one.”
“A night down here leaves one verra dirty. A wee bucket of water is barely enough to get one person clean, ne’er mind two.”
“I will see what the laird says.”
Alana winced as the grate was slammed shut and that faint shaft of light disappeared. She tried to judge where Gregor was, listening carefully to his movements, but she was still a little startled when he sat down by her side. Then she caught the scent of cheese and still warm bread, and her stomach growled a welcome.
Gregor laughed as he set the food out between them. “Careful how ye move, lass. The food rests between us. The Gowans do provide enough to eat, though ’tis plain fare.”
“Better than none. Perhaps ye had better hand me things. I think I shall need a wee bit of time to become accustomed to moving about in this thick dark.”
She tensed when she felt a hand pat her leg, but then something fell into her lap. Reaching down, she found a chunk of bread, which she immediately began to eat. Gregor was obviously just trying to be certain of where she sat as he shared out the food. She did wonder why a small part of her was disappointed by that.
“Best ye eat it all, lass. I havenae been troubled by vermin, but I have heard a few sounds that make me think they are near. Leaving food about will only bring them right to us.”
Alana shivered. “I hate rats.”
“As do I, which is why I fight the temptation to hoard food.”
She nodded even though she knew he could not see her, and for a while, they silently ate. Once her stomach was full, Alana began to feel very tired, the rigors of the day catching up to her. Her eyes widened as she realized there was no place to make up her own bed; she doubted there were enough blankets to do so anyway.
“Where do I sleep?” she asked, briefly glad of the dark for it hid her blushes.
“Here with me,” replied Gregor. “I will sleep next to the wall.” He smiled, almost able to feel her tension. “Dinnae fret, lass. I willnae harm ye. I have ne’er harmed a child.”
Of course, Alana thought and relaxed. He thought she was a child. She had briefly forgotten her disguise. The thought of having to keep her binding on for days was not comforting, but it was for the best. Thinking her a child, Gregor treated her as he would a sister or his own child. If he knew she was a woman, he might well treat her as a convenient bedmate or try to make her one. She brutally silenced the part of her that whispered its disappointment, reminding it that she had no idea of what this man even looked like.
Once the food was gone, Gregor set the bucket aside. Alana heard him removing some clothing and then felt him crawl beneath the blankets. She quickly moved out of the way when she felt his feet nudge her hip. After a moment’s thought, she loosened the laces on her gown and removed her boots before crawling under the blankets by his side. The chill of the place disappeared again, and she swallowed a sigh. Something about Gregor soothed her, made her able to face this imprisonment with some calm and courage, and she was simply too tired to try and figure out what that something was.
“On the morrow, we will begin to plan our escape,” Gregor said.
“Ye have thought of a way out of here?”
“Only a small possibility. Sleep. Ye will need it.”
That did not sound promising, Alana mused, as she closed her eyes.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Hannah Howell is an award-winning author who lives with her family in Massachusetts. She is the author of nineteen Zebra historical romances and is currently working on a new Highland historical romance, Highland Lover, which will be published in June 2006. Hannah loves hearing from readers and you may visit her website, www.hannahhowell.com, or write to her c/o Zebra books. Please include a self-addressed stamped envelope if you wish a response.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Hannah Howell is an award-winning author who lives with her family in Massachusetts. She is the author of over thirty Zebra historical romances and is currently working on a new historical romance featuring the Murrays, Highland Master, coming in December 2013! Hannah loves hearing from readers and you may visit her website: www.hannahhowell.com.
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
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Copyright © 1992 by Hannah Howell
This book was previously published under the pseudonym Sandra Dustin.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
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ISBN: 978-1-4201-28
96-3
eISBN-13: 978-1-4201-3200-7
eISBN-10: 1-4201-3200-8
Hannah Howell Page 31