“I conduct most of my business here. You might say it’s my solar,” Sir John mused as his hand rested on her lower back, precariously close to where her bottom began. “It’s my favorite place within this entire castle. Lord Grey may rule the keep and surrounding land, but here, I rule the underworld.”
Allyson turned her head enough to look over her shoulder at the man. His expression held pride and anticipation. Once more, Allyson reminded herself that predators pounced when they sensed their prey was most vulnerable. If she cowered or protested, it would encourage him to mistreat her. Instead, Allyson chose a different tactic and stepped away from Sir John. She wandered near a set of metal restraints that she brushed her hand over. Moving on to a set of whips, Allyson glanced at the knight, offering him a seductive but curious expression. He nodded once, and she lifted the whip with the shortest handle from the rack. She ran the leather tail through her hand before cracking it through the air. She transformed her mien into one of satisfaction before moving on to swipe her hand over a portion of stones discolored from blood that had long since dried. Every so often, she canted her head to glance at the knight who observed her with intense interest. At last, she stood at the stretching rack, running her hands over the surface and bending forward to not only extend her reach but to offer the man an enticing view of her cleavage.
“My chamber of horrors intrigues you, my lady.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I’ve seen naught like it.” Which was far from a lie. The room disgusted Allyson, but she was committed to the charade.
“The whip you selected was not only the perfect size for a woman to hold, but is the perfect size to flay a woman’s bare back.” The man leered at her before adding, “Or bare breasts.”
“And you have someone to whom you do that?” Allyson inquired as she attempted nonchalance while she cranked the handle and watched the mechanisms separate the planks of wood.
“I do, but there is no reason for me not to find someone else.”
Allyson swallowed as she noticed a bulge at the front of the torturer’s breeches. She understood their visit to his dominion aroused him. She’d heard of women who enjoyed a man’s dominance, but she never suspected that it could be so extreme. The knight made it obvious that he enjoyed such interludes, and Allyson grew terrified that not only would he torture her for the sake of the pain, but that he would find a different form of pleasure than she expected.
“That is a tremendous amount of power you wield over another. Power that must gratify in so many ways,” she purred. She hoped her feigned interest would convince the man that she shared his desire to dominate rather than suggest she desired being dominated.
“Have you ever witnessed a lashing, my lady?” Sir John rounded the table and once more stood behind her. He stretched his arms on either side of Allyson’s and ground his rod against her backside.
“Several. You cannot live at court for as many years as I have without witnessing public corporal punishment. It is a necessary evil.”
“Evil? Is that what you Scots believe? There is naught evil about carrying out God’s will. He would see wrongdoers punished for their transgressions, and in order for that to happen, someone must mete out those punishments. Tell me, my lady, have you ever watched a woman be whipped?” Allyson shook her head, horrified that Sir John continued to rub himself against her. She hadn’t anticipated this turn of events when she attempted to gain control. She should have realized that he would always have the upper hand. His fingers trailed down her throat and over her exposed chest in a light caress before his fingers toyed with the edge of her neckline. They slid far enough beneath the material to cover his nails. “You’ve not watched a woman’s breast bared to a crowd, then observed them jiggle and sway with each impact of leather against flesh? You haven’t had the pleasure of witnessing a woman’s submission? Never wondered what it would be like to have such control of a weaker yet desirable person? Perhaps you will before long.”
Sir John stepped away, and Allyson’s stomach clenched from the unexpected space. It didn’t feel like freedom, but another round of cat-and-mouse. The knight retreated far enough to give him room to pounce. Allyson remained silent, refusing to answer any of his questions or offer any opinions. The man limped to the wall sconce and lifted the torch before opening the door and waving a hand to indicate it was time to leave.
Chapter Eleven
“We can’t besiege the castle because we don’t have the men or the resources, nor can we storm it, but you heard the villager, she’s in there,” Kenneth huffed.
The search party turned rescue party camped in a clearing less than a quarter mile from the castle. They’d considered crossing back into Scotland, but it would take them at least two hours to ride each way. Neither of the Gordon twins nor Laird Elliot wanted to be that far from Allyson now that they’d located her. One of Laird Elliot’s guards had an English mother and could adopt an accent that wouldn’t make him stand out. He’d entered the village midmorning and pretended to be a knight looking for a lord to serve. With the Elliots’ Lowlander attire, he could pass for an English soldier even if he didn’t have full armor. Ewan and Eoin had both changed into their plaids when they reached Culcreuch, so neither blended in. The Elliot guardsman discovered there had been a stir at the keep because a group of reivers brought in a young Scottish woman with her wrists bound and her mouth gagged. No one in the village knew who she was, but it was obvious she was a captive. The man learned both Lord and Lady Grey were in residence, as was Sir John Sage. He dreaded passing the last piece of information to his laird.
“Eoin and I will take some of our men to scout once it grows dark. We can’t approach the keep during the day, even if we don our breeks again. We need to understand the lay of the land before we make any plans to break in or be invited in.”
The men spent most of the afternoon planning the scouting mission along with trying to anticipate what they might discover. They wanted several contingency plans already fleshed out, so there would be no delay once they knew how Allyson fared. Some of the guardsmen set up camp and hunted while others tended the horses. They remained hidden among the trees until the sun set and the stars appeared. Ewan and Eoin covered their faces and neck with mud, thankful for the intermittent showers that had left the ground soft enough for the hoofprints they followed to be trackable and so they had a means to camouflage their skin, which would shine in contrast to the dark night. The Gordon warriors selected for the scouting party followed their leaders, covering their faces and wearing their plaids with its muted colors. Kenneth sent his spy back into the village to learn if anyone had come or gone from the keep and seen Allyson.
“We’re just going to have a look, get a lay of the land,” Ewan reminded his men. “We’re not engaging unless there is no other way to save our lives or if we see Lady Allyson might lose hers.” Ewan grimaced at the image of the vibrant young woman’s life being snuffed out so prematurely. He recalled the last time they had danced together, only three nights before their run-in outside Lady Bevan’s chamber. They’d joked, and Ewan remembered enjoying the feel of Allyson’s body pressed against his. He wouldn’t deny he was attracted to the lady; she was beautiful, but he’d never considered more than perhaps stealing a kiss. Now he was tasked with rescuing her, so that not only would she live, but he could marry her. Part of him felt he should be furious that he had to chase after her, but he was impressed with her resourcefulness to have survived on her own for as long as she did. Yet another part feared they would be too late, that he would never witness her smile again or feel her in his arms. His palms tingled, but he pushed aside the thoughts, refusing to allow physical attraction to rule his actions. It had gotten him in enough trouble of late.
The Gordons rested against tree trunks and waited until they had the cover of dark and the woodland creatures settled down to sleep. When all was silent, they crept from the trees like wraiths before hiking the distance to the keep, remaining hunched and low to
the ground. Using only hand gestures, Ewan positioned his men to begin their watch.
* * *
Allyson stood beside Lady Grey as the older woman inspected her female servants. Allyson hadn’t understood what was happening until Lady Grey upbraided one woman for not being compliant enough the night prior when a guardsman sought her attention. Allyson fought the reaction to shy away in disgust as she realized Lady Grey was little more than a madam who ran a brothel in her castle. It might not have been a seedy tavern, but it was the same business. They could have knocked her over with a feather when she heard several women respond to Lady Grey with Scottish accents. Allyson cast surreptitious glances at those servants as she tried to draw closer for a better look. She feared she might recognize a woman from her own clan, since they’d suffered raids countless times while Allyson grew up. It wasn’t unheard of for both men and women to be captured. The men were usually killed, and the women assaulted and killed or taken captive, then put to work. Ever since William Wallace’s raid on the castle just over fifteen years earlier, tensions along this stretch of the Northumbrian border had been violent. Wallace burned a church with women and children inside, and every Scot bore the brunt of the English ire after that.
As Allyson continued to observe the scene playing out before her, a woman swept into the kitchens and stood beside Lady Grey, who took little notice of the newcomer. The younger woman was attractive, but there was a hardness about her features that made Allyson nervous. The new arrival cast a gimlet eye over Allyson as though she needed to determine if Allyson was competition. For what, Allyson didn’t understand.
“Elizabeth, you’re in time to welcome Sir John’s newest toy before the evening meal begins.”
The dark-haired, dark-eyed woman glared at Allyson, who deduced she must have been Sir John’s mistress and the person who enjoyed receiving the pain he inflicted. Allyson smiled but did nothing more. She needed to assure the woman that she wasn’t competition and held no interest in Sir John’s twisted love play, but Allyson didn’t dare speak with so many ears nearby. However, the audience didn’t dissuade Elizabeth from stepping in front of Allyson and sneering.
“His new toys never last as long as his favorite,” Elizabeth smirked, but Allyson still refused to respond. “Cat got your tongue? Or did my John cut it out already?”
Elizabeth’s comments tempted Allyson to stick her tongue out just for the sake of taunting Elizabeth, but she wouldn’t take the bait. Elizabeth Charlton was just as well-known as her lover, and Allyson didn’t need to give either of them reason to practice their cruelty on her. The woman had grown up along the border much like Allyson, but where Allyson’s father was a prosperous clan leader, Elizabeth’s father was a notorious reiver. He’d raided her clan’s lands many times and had received countless injuries for his efforts. There was a price on the man’s head, but no one was interested in claiming it. Either their life would be forfeit, or they would prefer him dead.
“Elizabeth, take Lady Allyson into the Hall and assure Lord Grey and Sir John that we will serve the meal post-haste.” Lady Grey didn’t bother to look at either woman, turning her back to them. When they passed through the doorway and into the Great Hall, Allyson scanned the crowd, but no one appeared to pay them attention. She grasped Elizabeth’s arm and dragged her into a nearby passageway. The woman spat and hissed like a trapped cat, but Allyson would have her say.
“Listen to me,” Allyson snapped. “I am no more interested in Sir John than I am the pox. You can have him all to yourself. I’m not competition for his favors, so you’re welcome to continue whatever it is you two get up to in that chamber.”
“And if I desire to watch him tame you? What will you do then? Perhaps I want to observe as he plunders your body on that wrack, and mayhap I’ll even join in the fun. Have you ever kissed a woman?”
“Do you think I have?” Allyson countered. She believed every word Elizabeth uttered, but she wouldn’t allow the woman to witness her disgust. Elizabeth would feed on it.
“I don’t think you’ve even kissed a man.” She edged closer to Allyson, who shifted to keep from being cornered. “Has a man ever run his fingers along your quim, dipped them into you and made you gush?”
Allyson considered responding that she was betrothed, which was as good as married and would imply that she was more knowledgeable than was true, but she was just as unwilling to bring the Gordons into her troubles as she was the rest of her clan. Her betrothal might be moot given the mess she’d created. While she didn’t want to marry Ewan, she would have appreciated his imposing stature as protection.
“I told you, I have no interest in coming between you and Sir John.”
“But I may hold that interest. Would you whip me if Sir John insisted? If I insisted? Would you be the one to remove my gown and my chemise? Perhaps run your hands over me?”
In another time and another place, Allyson might have found Elizabeth’s words wickedly seductive, but with her life in limbo, they only fueled the fire within Allyson to escape. She would return to her clan or court and never take for granted the safety both places afforded. She would even reconsider her opinion on marrying Ewan if it meant she left unmolested. Allyson noted Elizabeth hadn’t suggested that she be on the receiving end of either Elizabeth’s or Sir John’s domination, and she counted that as a blessing.
Movement nearby cut their conversation short, and Allyson glided into the Great Hall as though she hadn’t just experienced one of the more perverse moments of her life, and that said a great deal after four years living in a royal court where lovers changed as often as the Scottish weather.
* * *
Ewan couldn’t see a thing. The rain started just as they reached the retaining wall, and it dumped in diagonal sheets of icy needles. The mud had already trailed rivulets down his neck and chest, his sodden hair plastered to his scalp and forehead. He exchanged a glance with Eoin before gesturing for his men to fall back. They would hide in the tall grass, laying on their bellies to wait out the storm. It was too dark for Ewan to determine how thick the cloud cover was. He prayed it was a mere spring shower and not a deluge. After an hour of waiting, Ewan once more gestured for them to retreat, this time to their camp.
“What happened? Why are you back so soon?” Kenneth demanded.
“If ye hadnae noticed, we’ve a spot of rain,” Ewan grumbled, once more not bothering to smother his brogue. “We couldnae see a bluidy thing. Nae the hand in front of our faces nor the men on the battlements.”
“You gave up? A little rain, and you gave up.” Kenneth groused, and Ewan shouldered himself between Allyson’s father and his brother. Eoin was as dirty and tired as Ewan, but his temper had frayed faster that night.
“We returned to regroup and devise another plan. The walls are too slick for any of us to climb, the mud will trap our footprints, and we’re likely to freeze before we catch any sign of Allyson or what’s happening.” Ewan explained.
Laird Elliot remained irritated, but he didn’t speak again, understanding that the young Highland warrior was correct. The men settled in for the night, Highlanders and Lowlanders alike using their plaids to shelter them against the elements. Ewan sighed, since it would be another long day of waiting until they could scout again the next night. He wished he knew how Allyson fared. He couldn’t imagine the terror she must have been experiencing, alone and unprotected. A possessiveness Ewan didn’t understand took root in his mind, and his natural protective nature, instilled in all Highland men from birth, demanded he storm the gates alone and pull her out if necessary.
The sun rose, and Ewan felt as though he’d only closed his eyes for five minutes. As the men moved about, Ewan looked toward the keep. He squinted, certain he’d glimpsed a bright color at the corner facing their hiding spot. He was much too far away to determine what it was, but he swore he caught green and yellow hues matching the ones Allyson had dropped to leave a trail. Ewan nudged Eoin and pointed before creeping forward on silent feet. He eme
rged from the trees and crouched low as he inched closer. When he reached the part of the meadow that he’d hidden in the night before, he lay on his belly and dragged himself closer. He got as close as he dared before raising his head to peek at the battlements, praying whatever he’d seen hadn’t already disappeared.
His keen vision was rewarded with a view of Allyson standing alone on the wall walk. She faced the north as if she might see Scotland and her home. Her blonde hair lifted from her back and whipped around her face and shoulders. She abandoned her attempt to restrain it, choosing to tilt her face toward the sunlight. A man and a woman joined her, but Ewan didn’t get the impression they were the lord and lady of the keep. He strained to see the man and noticed his gait was off, as though he limped. Ewan knew in an instant he was watching Sir John approach Allyson, even if he didn’t know who the other woman was.
“Is that Sage?” Eoin whispered, and Ewan nodded his response. The brothers inched closer and watched as Allyson turned at the couple’s approach. There was no way for Ewan to decipher what they discussed, but he could tell Allyson was cautious, but not cowering. She shook her head several times and leaned away when the woman reached for her hair. This made Sir John laugh while he, too, reached for Allyson’s hair. He stood on the far side of Allyson, making it difficult to view all his movements, but Ewan tensed when Sir John grabbed a fistful of Allyson’s hair and seemed to pin her in place while the woman appeared to nuzzle her neck. Ewan exchanged a glance with Eoin, both recognizing the body language from more than one liaison that involved multiple partners. Ewan snapped his gaze back to Allyson, who hadn’t moved. She hadn’t pushed either the man or the woman away, but her posture showed she didn’t welcome the attention. However, she drew the line when Sir John leaned in to kiss her. Her palm contacted his chin at an angle as she shoved him away, making his head snap backwards. She tried to avoid the fist that flew toward her, but the other woman trapped Allyson in place. Ewan watched in horror as the knight’s knuckles contacted Allyson’s cheek. His other hand wrapped around Allyson’s throat, and she appeared to grow, but Ewan understood Sir John lifted her off the ground. But just as suddenly, she fell against the wall when Sir John doubled over. Ewan was proud of Allyson for kneeing the bastard in the cods, but his fear for her life returned. Allyson didn’t waste time and ran along the wall walk before disappearing.
A Rogue at the Highland Court: An Arranged Marriage Highlander Romance Page 8
