True to the Highlander(15)

Alethia paced the small confines of her room until she was certain everyone in the castle had gone to bed. The flame from a single candle burning on the mantel flickered with each pass she made. The deaf child hadn’t seemed to belong to anyone. None of the adults had paid him any attention other than to give him food. She couldn’t bear the thought of his being alone and frightened. Someone should look after him, and it might as well be me.

Taking a blanket from her bed, she folded it into thirds and laid it on the wood-planked floor near the hearth. It would have to do for the boy’s bed until she could come up with something better. She crossed the room, lifted the bar securing her door and peered into the corridor. The glow of firelight spilled up from the great hall. She made her way to the stairs and crept down.

The extra tables set up for the feast had been left standing. Dogs sniffed through the rushes for hidden morsels, and the snores and grunts from the sleeping revelers reverberated through the room. Burning logs in both hearths cast the cavernous chamber into golden light and dark shadow. Picking her way through the sleepers and the hounds, she searched for the little beggar boy.

Beginning with the places with the most light, she worked her way outward toward the darker corners. A hand shot out from the shadows to grab her, and a man’s arm snaked around her waist, dragging her back against his hard chest.

“Looking for me?” Hugh whispered into her ear, dragging her deeper into the darkness. “I’m glad you’ve sought me out, my lady. Shall I take this to mean you’ve decided to accept my offer of protection?”

“No.” Her heart pounded, and her mouth went dry. She removed his arm from around her waist and stepped out of his reach. His words were slightly slurred, and the sour scent of too much wine emanated from him. Great. “I’ve decided I don’t need or want your protection. Thank you just the same.”

His brow furrowed for a moment, before her words registered fully. His expression darkened to rage. He grabbed her wrist and dragged her against him. “Ungrateful bitch. I’m the son of an earl. D’ye know that? D’ye think yourself above me—you a foreigner to our land, without so much as one guard in attendance? I begin to suspect you’re naught but a whore after all, masquerading as a lady. There’s a penalty to pay for such a deception, and I intend to be the one to collect.” He spun her around and pressed her against the wall, covering her mouth with his with brutal force.

Twisting and turning, she struggled to get free. Her movements only served to incite him even more. If she could only get free enough to shout, surely someone in the great hall would wake. Panic wouldn’t save her. Think! She gagged on the bile rising in her throat. He caught her wrists and held them above her head with one hand. With the other, he started to pull her skirt up her legs. No!

Letting her body go completely slack, she forced him to support her weight and sank down along the wall until he leaned over to follow. He cursed her as he broke contact to keep his balance. She shrieked, tucked her chin and sprang up as hard as she could. Her skull slammed into his nose with a satisfying crunch.

“Ah, you bitch!” Hugh staggered back, blood spurting down his face.

She lunged away from the wall and shoved him, hooking a heel behind his feet. He fell backward, and she ran—right into the arms of another man.

From one nightmare straight into another! Screaming and twisting she fought to free herself.

“Cease your caterwauling. Be still.”

Malcolm’s command penetrated her fear, and a rush of relief washed through her. Alethia sagged against him and sucked in huge gulps of air.

“What the devil goes on here?” he demanded.

Hugh rose from the floor, blood seeping through his fingers. “She came to the great hall seeking my attentions. I obliged, and the bitch turned on me.”

Alethia straightened, every muscle in her body tensed for another battle. “I never did any such thing, you lying sack of—”

“Wheesht, woman.”

“But I—”

“You’ve no business below stairs at this hour, Lady Alethia.” Malcolm gripped her arm above the elbow and sent her a look sharp enough to cut glass. He turned to Hugh. “Judging by your injury, it would appear the lady has had a change of heart.”

“Wait a minute.” She jerked her arm out of his hold. “I did not come here looking for this dirtbag.”

“As you say.” Hugh bowed toward her. “Mayhap I mistook your intent, my lady. Please forgive me. Until we meet again…” His tone dripped malice, and the promise of retribution hung in the air.