Dark Duke(46)

“He was not.”

“What was he?” Tension crackled in the room.

“A duke.”

“Fuck.”

“Moncrieff, actually. He’s the one who arranged our escape. I’ve come to call in that favor, Ewan.”

“Fuck.”

“I will take Violet tonight. In return, I’ll pay you the money that is owed. You will leave Violet…and Kaitlin alone.”

The McCloud’s frown turned surly. “Kaitlin? Not Lady Kaitlin?” He plucked at his lower lip. “What’s my betrothed to you?”

Edward bristled. None of his damn business, that’s what she was. “You will release her from this betrothal and never bother her again.”

To his irritation, Ewan grinned. “Your passion is intriguing.”

“I must insist.”

An arrogant brow arched. “And if I refuse?”

“You used to be a man of honor.”

Ewan’s expression turned sour. “That was a long time ago. And I have need of a bride. Surely I should keep one of them.”

Ned shot to his feet. Edward pressed him back down.

“I will pay you double what is owed. One debt for each woman.”

Ewan stilled. “It is a substantial amount.”

“I know.”

Ewan drew his finger around the lip of the cup. As he waited for his response—any response—Edward’s annoyance rose.

“I will think on your proposal.”

A growl rose at the back of his throat. “What the hell is there to think about?”

The McCloud chortled. “You’re asking me to give up my dearest Kaitlin. And a rather valuable captive. Come back tomorrow and I will give you my answer.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes. Tomorrow.” The McCloud stood, his expression set.

Edward knew that look, knew if they were to proceed with these negotiations, he would have to back down. Damn. Damn and damn. He didn’t want to wait another whole day. He wanted this over with now so he could claim Violet and go back to Kaitlin. And marry her. And have her again.

Hell.

“Tomorrow it is, Ewan. And do not forget. You owe me. You owe me your life.”

* * * * *

Kaitlin stepped from the coach just as the sun was setting, her body aching after a full day’s ride from Perth. She stared at the island hunched in the depths of the Firth of Tay. A shudder walked through her. Was this to be her home, then? It looked bleak and dour. Like the man she was bound to wed.

“Here we go.” Callum took her arm and led her toward a small dock. Two large wraiths emerged from the shadows at their approach. “Halloo,” her brother warbled. “MacAllister to see the McCloud. I’ve brought his bride. No need to pull out your weapons.”

Kaitlin flinched. They had weapons?

Of course they did. They were criminals. She glared at her brother.

“Try to be pleasant, Kait.”

“Pleasant?” She couldn’t hold back her snort. Her life was ending. Once she stepped onto that island, it would all be over, any hope of happiness shattered. Any future with Edward, gone.

But then, there never really had been any hope of that, had there?

She could do little else now, other than that which was demanded of her. She could make this right and free Violet.

So she allowed Callum to hand her into the rickety little skiff to take her to her doom. She tried, very hard, not to cry.

When they entered the crumbling keep, her belly lurched. It was worse than she had imagined, even in her darkest hour. There was filth everywhere. There were great chunks missing from the decaying walls. An enormous hound lounged by the fire. Nefarious creatures skulked the great hall, drinking and carousing and carrying on. But when they saw her, a dead silence fell.

“Wait here,” their escort muttered. He tromped up the stone staircase, his footfalls ringing in the now silent hall.

To her horror, the men at the table stood in a great scraping of chairs and approached.

Their odor preceded them.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Callum’s Adam’s apple bob.

“What ’ave we here?” One of the more repugnant villains murmured. He reached out and rubbed his fingers in her hair. “A little pigeon?”

“A plump pigeon,” another said, though at the moment he was also picking his teeth with a long thin blade.

She did not care for the glints in their eyes. So she smacked at the hand fondling her hair. The brigand—for surely he was that—blinked. “Now what ya go and do that for?”

“I am Kaitlin MacAllister. Betrothed to the McCloud. Keep your stinking hands to yourself.”

He took a step back. His mouth gaped, showing his aversion to teeth. The others muttered amongst themselves.

She put her hands on her hips and glared at the debris littering the stone floor. She was not living like this. She was not.