Ransom

  “She’s a lioness, and I would tame her,” he boasted, obscenely licking his lips over the fantasy.

  “She would cut your throat while you slept,” Edwin called out.

  Hugh snorted. “With Gillian in my bed, I assure you I wouldn’t be sleeping.”

  He reached out to stroke her, but she shoved his hand away and took a step back. Hugh glanced down at the boy clinging to Gillian. She quickly forced him to look at her again and forget about the child when she said, “You are most foul, Hugh, and such a weakling, I almost pity you.”

  Shocked by the venom in her voice, he slapped her with the back of his hand.

  She retaliated by smiling.

  “Leave her be,” Alford demanded impatiently when Hugh raised his hand to strike her again.

  He leered at her for several seconds, then leaned forward and whispered, “I will have you, bitch.” He turned around then and went back to his place at the table. “Give her to me,” he nagged Alford. “I can teach her to be obedient.”

  Alford smiled. “I shall consider your request,” he promised.

  Edwin wasn’t about to be left out. “If you give Gillian to him, then I must have Christen.”

  “She has already been promised,” Alford said.

  “You want her for yourself,” Edwin accused.

  “I don’t want her, but I have promised her to another.”

  “Who did you promise?” Edwin asked.

  Hugh laughed. “Does it matter, Edwin? Alford has never kept his word.”

  “Never,” Alford snickered. “But there is always a first time.”

  Edwin grinned, for he was placated now and foolishly believed he still had a chance of winning Christen’s hand. “If she is half as beautiful as Gillian, then I will be well-served.”

  “How long will you give Gillian to complete her errand?” Hugh asked.

  “She must return to me before the celebration of the harvest begins.”

  “But that is not nearly long enough,” Edwin protested. “Why, it will take her a full week, maybe two, just to get to her destination, and if there are any problems along the way or if she cannot find Christen . . .”

  Alford raised his hand for silence. “Your prattle of worries on the bitch’s behalf make my head spin. Hold your tongue while I explain the details to my ward. Gillian? Should you think to find sympathetic Highlanders to help you save your dear uncle, know this. A full contingent of my soldiers have surrounded his home, and if so much as one Highland warrior steps foot into the holding, Morgan will be killed. I will hold him ransom until you return. Do I make myself clear?”

  “What if she tells Ramsey that his brother didn’t drown and that you have him?” Hugh asked.

  “She will not tell,” Alford replied. “She holds the boy’s life with her silence. Enough of your questions,” he added. “I wish to talk about more amusing matters now, such as how I will spend the king’s reward when I give the box to him. I have already suggested more than once that it was Gillian and Christen’s father who stole the box and killed Arianna, and when the King finds out that Christen has had the treasure all this time, he will be convinced.”

  He motioned to the two sentries at the entrance to come forward. “The dear lady can barely stand up. See how she sways on her feet? Take her and the boy upstairs. Put her in her old room. See how thoughtful I can be, Gillian? I’m going to let you sleep in your own bed.”

  “And the boy, milord?” one of the soldiers inquired.

  “Put him in the room next to hers,” he said. “He can listen to her weep during the night.”

  The soldiers rushed forward to do their lord’s bidding. One took hold of Alec’s arm and the other reached for Gillian. She jerked away, steadied herself, and slowly, painfully, straightened up. Head erect, she held on to the edge of the table until she gained the strength in her legs, then took careful, measured steps. When she was close to the doors, she swayed and collapsed against the chest.

  The soldier pulled her upright and dragged her the rest of the way to the stairs. Gillian folded her arms across her battered ribs and hunched over, and Alec held on to her skirt as they started up the steps. She stumbled twice before her legs gave out on her altogether. Making a tisking sound, the soldier lifted her into his arms and carried her the rest of the way.

  The pain in her back became excruciating, and she fainted before they reached her door. The soldier dropped her on the bed and turned to grab hold of the boy, but Alec refused to leave. He bit and scratched and kicked the man who was trying to pry him away from Gillian.

  “Leave him be,” his friend suggested. “If we keep the two of them in the same room, we’ll only have to post a guard in front of one door tonight. The boy can sleep on the floor.”

  The two men left the chamber then, locking the door behind them. Alec climbed up on the bed next to Gillian and held on to her. Terrified that she would die and leave him all alone, he sobbed uncontrollably.

  A long while passed before she finally awakened. The pain pulsating through her body was so intense, tears flooded into her eyes. She waited until the room stopped spinning, then tried to sit up, but the pain was unbearable, and she collapsed against the bedcovers, feeling helpless and defeated.

  Alec whispered her name.

  “It’s all right now. The worst is over, Alec. Please don’t cry.”

  “But you’re crying.”

  “I’ll stop,” she promised.

  “Are you going to die?” he asked worriedly.

  “No,” she whispered.

  “Do you hurt real bad?”

  “I’m already feeling much better,” she lied. “And at least we’re safe now.”

  “No, we’re not,” he argued. “Tomorrow is gonna be—”

  “Much better,” she interrupted. “It’s dark in here, isn’t it? Why don’t you tie the tapestry back from the window so we can have some light.”

  “The light’s almost gone,” he told her as he jumped off the bed and ran to the window to do as she had requested.

  Golden ribbons of sunlight streamed into the room and, like silken banners, floated in the gentle summer breeze. They danced along the stone floor. She could see particles of dust in the air, could smell the musty scent of mildew in the bedcovers, and wondered how long the room had been closed. Had she been the last to sleep in this bed? It was unlikely. Alford liked to entertain, and he had surely had a multitude of guests at Dunhanshire since she had been banished.

  Alec climbed back in bed with her and took hold of her hand. “The sun’s going down. You slept an awful long time, and I couldn’t get you to wake up. I got scared,” he admitted. “And you know what?”

  “No, what?”

  “It is too gonna get worse ’cause I heard what the baron said. The Highlander’s coming here.”

  “Yes, I heard what he said.” She put her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. She said a quick prayer that God would help her get her strength back—and soon—for time was critical.

  “The Highlander will be here tomorrow or the day after.” Alec became agitated. “If he sees me, he’s gonna know I’m not Michael. Then maybe he’ll tell on me.”

  While she once again struggled to sit up, she addressed his worry. “I’m sure he already knows you’re not Michael. That’s probably the urgent news he wishes to tell the baron.”

  He frowned intently, until the freckles on his nose blended together. “Maybe he wants to tell him something else.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I don’t want you to leave me.”

  “I’m not going to leave you,” she promised.

  “But the baron’s gonna send you away.”

  “Yes,” she agreed. “But I’m going to take you with me.” He didn’t look as if he believed her. She patted his hand and forced a smile. “It doesn’t matter to us if the Highlander comes here or not, though in truth I would like to get a good look at him.”

  “’Cause he’s a traitor?”

&nb
sp; “Yes.”

  “And then you can tell my papa and Brodick and even Ramsey what the traitor looks like?”

  Alec was looking happy now, and so she quickly agreed. “Yes, that’s exactly right. I would tell your father what he looks like.”

  “And Brodick and even Ramsey too?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you know what would happen? They’d make him sorry he was a traitor.”

  “Yes, I’m sure they would.”

  “How come we don’t care if the Highlander comes here or not?”

  “We don’t care because we’re leaving tonight.”

  His eyes widened in surprise. “In the dark?”

  “In the dark. Hopefully the moon will guide us.”

  His eagerness was almost uncontainable, and he bounced on the bed. “But how are we going to do that? I heard the soldier lock the door when he left, and I think maybe there’s a guard outside in the hall. That’s how come I’m whispering ’cause I don’t want him to hear me.”

  “We’re still going to leave,” she said.

  “But how?”

  She pointed to the opposite end of the room. “You and I are going to walk right through that wall.”

  His smile vanished. “I don’t think we can do that.”

  He sounded so forlorn she felt like laughing. She realized then that in spite of her pain, she was actually feeling euphoric because she wasn’t going to have to leave the little boy in Alford’s lair. It had been a wonderful piece of luck that Alford hadn’t hidden the child away from her, and she planned to take full advantage of his error in judgment.

  She couldn’t resist pulling Alec into her arms and hugging him. “Oh, Alec, God is surely watching over us.”

  He let her kiss his forehead and brush his hair out of his eyes before he squirmed out of her embrace. “How come you think God’s watching out for us?” He was too impatient to wait for her answer. “Is God gonna help us walk through the wall?”

  “Yes,” she replied.

  He shook his head. “I think maybe the baron made you daft when he hit you.”

  “No, he didn’t make me daft. He made me angry, very, very angry.”

  “But, Gillian, people can’t walk through walls.”

  “We’re going to open a secret door. This used to be my bedroom when I was a little girl,” she told him. “My sister’s room was right next to mine, and whenever I got scared or lonely, I would open the passageway and run into her room. My father would become very upset with me.”

  “How come?”

  “Because the passage was only to be used in dire circumstances, and he didn’t want anyone to know about it, not even his faithful servants. My lady’s maid, Liese, knew about the doorway though, and she used to tell me that most mornings she would find my bed empty. Liese figured out there had to be a hidden door because she knew I was afraid of the dark and wouldn’t have ventured out into the hall during the night. Do you see that chest in front of the wall? My father put it there to discourage me. He knew the chest was too heavy for me to move, but Liese told me that I used to squeeze behind it to get to the door.”

  His eyes grew wide. “You disobeyed your papa.”

  “It seems I did,” she answered.

  He found her admission extremely funny and laughed until tears came into his eyes. Concerned the guard would hear the noise, she put her finger over her mouth as a sign for him to quiet down.

  “But if the door goes to your sister’s room,” he whispered loudly, “how will we get out of there?”

  “The passage also leads to the staircase that goes down into the tunnels below the castle. If it hasn’t been sealed, it will take us outside the walls.”

  “Then can we leave now? Please?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “We must wait until the baron has gone to bed. He’s had so much wine to drink he’ll pass out soon. Besides, he might send one of the servants to check on us before nightfall, and if we aren’t here, she’ll sound the alarm.”

  He slipped his fingers through hers and held tight, all the while staring at the wall, trying to figure out where the door was. When he turned back to Gillian, he was frowning again. “What if the baron sealed it?”

  “Then we’ll figure out another way to leave.”

  “But how?”

  She didn’t have the faintest idea, but she did know that she had to get Alec out of Dunhanshire before the Highlander arrived. “We could trick the guard into coming inside—”

  In his excitement he interrupted her. “And I could hit him on his head and knock him down,” he said, acting out his plan by pounding the bed with his fists. “I’d make him bleed,” he assured her. “And if I stood on top of the chest, I could maybe even grab his sword, and then you know what? I could slice him up and make him cry something fierce. I’m very strong,” he ended with a boast.

  She had to resist the urge to hug him again, and she didn’t dare smile because he might think she was laughing at him. “Yes, I can see how strong you are,” she said.

  He grinned with pleasure over her compliment and lifted his shoulders as he nodded.

  Were all little boys as bloodthirsty in their fantasies as this one? she wondered. One minute he was crying and clinging to her and the next he was gleefully planning gruesome revenge. She didn’t have any experience with children—Alec was the first she had been around for any length of time—and she felt thoroughly inadequate, yet at the same time, she also felt tremendously protective. She was all the little boy had separating him from disaster, and in her mind that meant Alec was still in danger.

  “Does it hurt?”

  She blinked. “Does what hurt?”

  “Your face,” he answered as he reached up to touch the side of her cheek. “It’s swelling.”

  “It stings a little, that’s all.”

  “How come you got a scar under your chin?”

  “I fell down the steps. It happened a long time ago.”

  She patted the bed beside her and said, “Why don’t you stretch out beside me and try to get some sleep.”

  “But it isn’t night yet.”

  “Yes, I know, but we’re going to be up all night walking,” she explained. “You should try to rest now.”

  He scooted up close to her and put his head down on her shoulder. “You know what?”

  “What?”

  “I’m hungry.”

  “We’ll find something to eat later.”

  “Will we have to steal food?”

  From his exuberance she assumed he was looking forward to the possibility. “Stealing is a sin.”

  “That’s what my mama says.”

  “And she’s right. We won’t steal anything. We’ll just borrow what we need.”

  “Can we borrow horses?”

  “If we’re lucky enough to find a sturdy one and no one’s around to stop us, then yes, we’ll borrow a horse.”

  “You could get yourself hanged for stealing a horse.”

  “That’s the least of my worries,” she said as she shifted in the bed. Every inch of her body throbbed, and there simply was no comfortable position. She moved her bandaged arm down to her side and felt a prick, and only then remembered the surprise she had for Alec.

  “I have something for you,” she said. “Close your eyes tight.”

  He bolted upright onto his knees and squeezed his eyes shut. “What is it?”

  She held up the dagger. She didn’t have to tell him to look, for he was already peeking. The joy in his eyes made her feel like weeping.

  “Brodick’s dagger,” he whispered in awe. “How did you find it?”

  “You told me where it was,” she reminded him. “I grabbed it from the chest on the way out of the hall. Keep it inside the leather sheath so you won’t accidentally cut yourself.”

  He was so happy to have his treasure back, he threw his arms around her neck and kissed her swollen cheek. “I love you, Gillian.”

  “I love you too, Alec.”

 
“Now I can protect you ’cause I got my knife back.”

  She smiled. “Are you going to be my champion, then?”

  “No,” he giggled, drawing out the word.

  “Why not?”

  He pulled back and told her what he thought should have been obvious. “’Cause I’m just a little boy. But you know what?”

  “No, what?”

  “We got to find you one.”

  “A champion?”

  He nodded solemnly.

  She shook her head. “I don’t need a protector,” she assured him.

  “But you got to have one. Maybe we can ask Brodick.”

  “The mean one?” she teased.

  He nodded again.

  She laughed softly. “I don’t think . . .”

  “We’ll ask Brodick,” he said, sounding very grown up. “’Cause you know why?”

  “No, why?”

  “You need him.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  They didn’t like the message. Four of Laird Buchanan’s elite guard surrounded the young MacDonald soldier, towering over him like avenging gargoyles as he stammered out his important information while quaking in his boots. Three of the warriors were rendered speechless by the announcement. Aaron, Robert, and Liam were outraged by what they immediately surmised was trickery on Laird MacDonald’s part. Everyone in the Buchanan clan knew the messenger’s laird to be a sneaky, lying, son of a bitch, and therefore refused to believe a word he said. The fourth Buchanan warrior, Dylan, had the opposite reaction to the news. Though he also believed Laird MacDonald to be a sneaky, lying, son of a bitch, he was so amused and intrigued by the message he was eager to hear the details.

  Aaron, the most outspoken of the Buchanan group, shook his head in denial and moved forward with the demand that the messenger repeat every word.

  “’Tis as I said before,” the young MacDonald soldier insisted.

  “Then say it again,” Aaron commanded, deliberately moving close so that the man would have to crane his head back in order to look him in the eyes. “Word for word I would hear this foul message again.”

  The MacDonald soldier felt like a trapped rabbit. Robert stood behind him, Dylan faced him, and Aaron and Liam pressed in against his sides. All the Buchanan warriors were at least two heads above him in height, and they could easily crush him with their weight alone.