by Eliza Knight
Sorley frowned and shook his head. He’d wasted enough time trying to placate her. “Afraid that’s no’ going to happen.”
“Och, or what? Ye’re going to just carry me out of here like a parcel?”
“Aye.” He reached for her, and she swung that dagger toward him, only a hair’s breadth from slicing into his palm. “Careful with that, lass. Ye’re liable to hurt someone, most likely yourself.”
She bared her teeth at him and then just as suddenly, smiled. The shift was shocking enough that Sorley stuttered in his movements.
Sweet as spring, she said, “Are ye my cousin, then?”
Sorley was confused by the sudden sweetness, the curiosity, as though she’d not just been wielding a knife toward his face. He cleared his throat, stumbling over his answer. “Nay, lass. The MacLeod found me wandering the woods as a lad, brought me home and put me into the care of one of his own.”
Her expression turned grave. “What happened to your family?”
“Killed by them.” He nodded his head toward the ballroom.
“Mine too.” Her eyelids dipped as she stared down for a moment, then slowly rose back up to meet his. That simple gesture showed how much had changed within a short exchange.
“’Haps that is why he sent me to fetch ye,” Sorley offered.
“Or because ye’re the hound.”
“Retriever.”
“Whatever.” She shrugged. “In any case, I’m afraid I dinna intend to go quietly.”
“I prefer quiet.” He shrugged too, reaching for her. “But if ye insist.”
2
He wouldn’t dare...
But Sorley was daring. Coming closer and closer.
Kenna arced her arm, ready to strike when he caught her around the wrist. His grip was firm but not so tight as to be painful. And was she going to cut him, anyway?
“Ye know if they come running in here and see me with ye and thanks to that bonnie gown ye’ve got on, they’ll no’ think ye innocent.” His wicked gaze raked her over, and suddenly Kenna felt very warm.
He had a point, and she hated that.
“Listen, your uncle said if ye didna believe me to show ye this.” He reached slowly into his sporran, keeping his grip still on her wrist, and pulled out a ring.
Kenna narrowed her eyes on the piece of jewelry, so familiar it brought an aching pang to her chest. A ring of gold and a carved bull’s head, their clan’s insignia, and at the center of the bull’s face an emerald. “That was my mother’s,” she whispered.
“Aye.”
She met his gaze. “Why now?”
“That is a question ye’ll have to take up with your uncle.”
“Will ye give me a moment to gather a bag?”
He flicked his gaze toward the ballroom and a little muscle in the side of his cheek pulsed. The man was trying to hide how much in peril they would be in if found out. “I’m afraid we dinna have that kind of time. I fear we’ve already waited too long with the men down the hall.”
He wasn’t wrong. Every little sound in the grand house had her heartbeat leaping for fear of discovery. Still...
“But I canna leave without my things. I have...there are items that matter to me.” Items from her childhood, her memories. Leaving them behind meant never seeing them again because if she stepped outside of this house with Sorley, she wasn’t going to be allowed back in.
“Ye have three minutes, lass. Else I’ll be tossing ye over my shoulder.”
Kenna bristled but said nothing, grateful that he was at least allowing her this small favor before he whisked her away to an uncle she barely remembered.
She marched up the stairs and down the hall with the surly Sorley following, making a mental checklist of all the things she needed to take with her. They’d not quite reached her chamber when footsteps sounded on the stairs.
Not heavy footsteps, but not as light as a servant either. Oh, how close they’d been to being found out just moments ago. Who could it be? Her cousin Elizabeth, most likely.
Kenna had to hide Sorley, for he’d not be able to get to Elizabeth before she opened her mouth to scream. Thinking quickly, Kenna yanked open a wardrobe in the hallway that normally held linens. Fortunately, with so many guests, the extra linens had been taken out.
“Get in,” she hissed.
Sorley shook his head. “I’m no’ hiding in a cupboard.”
But the footsteps were closer now, nearly to the top. Kenna tugged at his arm frantically.
Sorley grimaced and managed to fold himself into the wardrobe, and she thanked heavens that it was built large enough for him not to have to break his bones to curl inside.
She eased the door shut and turned away, pretending to make her way toward her chamber, when the footsteps finally hit the landing.
“There ye are,” Elizabeth said. “We’ve all been waiting for ye. Supper is about to be served, and there’s a fascinating officer named Captain Boyd who wishes to accompany ye to the table.”
Kenna forced herself not to frown at the mention of that man’s name. He was a chief tormenter of the people in the Highlands, and if he’d not been only a few years older than her, she might have guessed that he was the instrument behind her parents’ death. Never would she wish for him to accompany her to dinner, not if he were the last man on this earth.
“What are ye wearing?” Elizabeth frowned. “My da said no plaid.”
Uncle Duncan was Elizabeth’s father. Her cousin had been Kenna’s companion throughout the years she’d been kept here. Kenna considered Elizabeth more like a sister than anything else.
“I know.” Kenna made her voice sound contrite. “’Tis why I’ve no’ come down yet. For a moment, I thought to be a bit of a rebel,” she frowned. “Paybacks for all the lima beans Uncle has made me consume. In any case, I had a change of heart, and I’m going to switch gowns. Please tell Uncle I’ll be down shortly but that everyone should go ahead into supper. And if ye’ve no’ an escort, take Boyd. I’m certain ye’ll charm him as ye do everyone.”
Her cousin clucked her tongue. “Oh, Kenna, ye’ve always been a bit of a rebel. I guess that’s to be expected, considering your parentage.” Elizabeth’s lips curled. “And I’ve no need of your Boyd. I’ve already got an escort. I’ll have to send Boyd your regrets. Shall I promise him a dance for ye?”
“Aye.” Kenna smiled through the sour taste on her tongue.
“No need to send regrets.”
Kenna’s gaze jerked behind Elizabeth to see the officer in question standing a few feet away. His approach had been so silent, neither of them had heard. Captain Boyd was tall and wiry. His hair was pulled back tightly in a queue, and there was a pinched, dangerous look about his features. He wasn’t ugly, but neither was he handsome. There was something severe and punishing about him, which sent a chill racing up Kenna’s spine and gave her the sudden desire to flee.
Captain Boyd was not everything he appeared to be. A dark and sinister cloud surrounded him, and she suppressed the shudder that coursed up her spine.
“Sir, ye shouldna be up here in the family’s quarters,” Elizabeth chided.
“I was lost,” he said. The glint in his eyes, magnified by the torches on the wall, revealed his lie. He took several steps closer, pausing when he was within reaching distance of Elizabeth, and Kenna wanted to grab her cousin’s arm and thrust her behind. “Why are ye wearing that hideous gown?”
Kenna was too shocked by his question to hide her surprise but was quick to recover. Oh, how she would like to pull her hairpin out and stab this bastard through the heart with it.
“A simple misunderstanding,” she said vaguely, waving away the conversation and flashing a flirtatious smile she hoped would distract him. “I am going to change and shall be down shortly.”
“Come, sir, shall I escort ye be back to the ballroom?” Elizabeth asked, twin spots of red on her cheeks. Fearing for propriety, she was likely very concerned for the man standing in this hallway and her reputation s
hould they be found here without a chaperone.
“It wouldn’t do for us to be seen coming down the stairs together,” Boyd said in a slow drawl, his gaze raking over Elizabeth in a way that was very predatory and a bit terrifying. “Run along, and I’ll wait for Miss Forbes right here.”
Ice formed in Kenna’s belly. The man was too insistent. Did he suspect her of something? She thought of Sorley, who she had hidden in the cupboard only a few feet away. Perhaps there was an ulterior motive to Captain Boyd’s acceptance of the invitation to join them here tonight. It felt at that moment as if it weren’t to enjoy a dance.
“But would it no’ also be conspicuous for ye to wait?” Elizabeth sounded desperate. Desperate to run away and also to make Boyd disappear.
Kenna was surprised at Elizabeth’s stand. The lass rarely stood up to others, save for when propriety was at stake, and she supposed this would be one of those occasions. Kenna tried hard not to stare at the wardrobe. The tension from behind those wide oak doors was palpable. At any moment, Sorley would burst from within and attack Captain Boyd. Then all hell would break loose.
Boyd must have suspected something. There was no other reason for him to have followed Elizabeth upstairs to the family’s private quarters. With how silent he was, he might have been spying on her and Sorley the entire time. That he was now trying to get Elizabeth to leave so he could whip open the wardrobe's doors and stab Sorley through the heart.
Oh, dear God…
Kenna had a feeling that if Elizabeth didn’t get out of here, Boyd would do it with her watching. But her rumination was halted when he took several steps more until he was standing slightly ahead of Elizabeth. He took her hand in his, raising it to his lips. “I promise you, my dear, that I will bring no shame to Miss Kenna, nor ye. I am an honorable man, serving his king.”
An honorable man would not have snuck up the stairs to find two women alone. Kenna narrowed her eyes on Elizabeth, whose heart practically fluttered visibly from her chest. Her cousin fanned her face. How in all of Hades had Elizabeth fallen for his ruse? Couldn’t she see right through his attempts at seduction?
“Why, of course, sir.” Elizabeth started to retreat. “Take care of her, so that no ruffians take advantage.”
Boyd gave a laugh that was decidedly without humor, the sound of metal scraping on metal. Kenna was certain the man knew more than he was letting on and also that she was very much in danger.
When Elizabeth disappeared down the stairs, rather than enter her chamber, Kenna waited, the prickle of fear on her spine confirmation that Boyd was up to no good and that he meant to follow her should she go. That wouldn’t do at all.
He turned back around. The smile faded from his face, replaced by a hungry fury. “Where is he?” he demanded.
“He?” Kenna feigned shock, though her heart plummeted to her feet. Oh, how she wished she’d been wrong. “Sir, I’ve no—”
Boyd cut her off. “I heard him.”
“Heard who, sir? I have no’ the faintest—”
Boyd marched forward, his finger in her face, rage in the twist of his lips. Kenna’s back straightened, but she worried it would snap with fear.
“Do not toy with me, miss. I know what I heard. Where is he?”
She shook her head, throat tight. “I do apologize, but—”
He raised his hand as if to slap it over her mouth, and she retreated, wincing. His hand dropped. With his lips still twisted in a menacing snarl, he cocked his head toward her bedroom.
“Open your chamber door,” he demanded.
Mouth dry, she managed to form words, “I dinna think that is a good idea.”
“He’s in there. Now open the damned door.”
Kenna felt light-headed, ready to drop into a puddle on the floor or fling herself down the stairs to get away from him. “There is no one in there, and I’ll no’ be opening the door, for it wouldna do for a lass in my position to openly invite a man into her chamber with or without a chaperone.”
A vein pulsed in the side of his neck and the center of his forehead, so visible was his anger. “Bloody hell, wench, open the door, or I’ll bludgeon ye. I’m an officer in the king’s army with probable cause to search your chamber. If ye dinna allow me entry, I’ll have everyone in the party below executed for treason.”
Kenna believed wholeheartedly in his threat, and so she opened the door but did not enter, fearing bodily injury if she did so. He marched into her chamber, looked left, looked right, and then flipped a table, the wood crashing with a thundering bang to the floor, sending every book and knickknack on its surface flying.
She waited with panicked breath to hear footsteps on the stairs, rushing to see what the commotion was about.
He ransacked her room, tearing it apart as she watched. And from the periphery, she could see Sorley climb from his hiding place in the wardrobe and disappear down the stairs.
Oh, heavens, he was going to be caught…
To his credit, Sorley did not pull out his dagger and thrust it through the bastard’s heart, though he had every intention of exacting revenge at some point. His mission, however, had been to bring Kenna back to her uncle, and he would be damned if he’d let an egotistical Sassenach bastard get in the way.
From where he stood in the shadows by the stairs, Sorley kept his eyes on Kenna, prepared to attack should Boyd try anything nefarious, which he wouldn’t put past him. Vicious rumors had abounded across Scotland about what the captain was capable of, and none of the stories had ended in anything less than a nightmare.
As it was, the lass was smart, standing outside the chamber and well away from Boyd, who was destroying her property. Footsteps sounded below, boot heels clicking on wood, and then the stairs. The commotion in her chamber had to be drawing attention from those below. The question remained whether it was the dragoons hurrying to the chaos or Duncan Forbes’s footmen.
Sorley muttered an expletive under his breath. She would have to leave without a few of her precious belongings. Perhaps her cousin would be kind enough to gather them up for safekeeping and send them to her at a later date.
He came out of the shadows, surprising her. She turned toward him, eyes wide, mouth parted.
From inside her chamber, Boyd let out a wicked laugh. “You see? My men are coming to search the rest of the rooms because we know you harbor the enemy. Punishable by death, should we find him.” The imbecile thought her reaction to Sorley appearing was about the men below. Good.
“I maintain my innocence, sir,” she said, even as her eyes scanned Sorley.
Brave lass, she was. There was a little lurch in his chest at her words, her outright defiance.
Sorley came to the side of the door, out of Boyd’s view, and held out his hand to her. “We need to leave,” he mouthed silently.
She nodded, giving one last glance toward Boyd. Her only options were to trust in him to take her away from this nightmare or fall into Boyd’s trap. The latter of which would be incredibly unpleasant. Sorley beckoned her, promising with his eyes that he’d keep her safe—not that she needed a savior with the way she’d wielded her hairpin, but with a horde of dragoons climbing the stairs, she could use a partner.
Then she too stepped away from the door, her hand in his as she tugged him past her room and away from the stairs.
It was a risky move with Boyd right there, but the man had his back to the door as they passed, riffling through a trunk large enough to hold a man. At this point, Boyd was likely looking for valuables he could steal.
At the end of the hall, Kenna pressed a wooden panel, revealing a secret door, which she opened and then yanked him inside. The portal closed with a quiet snick as the dragoons' boot heels hit the upper-level floor.
3
Encased in darkness, the sounds of the men outside the secret door dulled. Kenna’s breath was labored. At any moment, she was going to break out into a fit of trembling. Already, her heart pounded so hard she was certain it would direct the dragoons straight to
their hiding spot.
“These stairs lead to the vault,” Kenna whispered. “While there, we can both change into plain clothes. I’ve seen stacks of garments on the shelves.”
“The vault?”
“Aye.” Her teeth started to chatter with nerves, and she wished now that she’d gone away with him the moment that he had first suggested it and not argued so much. This was one of her faults, she supposed. Being stubborn.
And now it might lead to her arrest, and possibly her death, for having escaped with Sorley now, there was no turning back. And she supposed now was as good a time as any to make up for her lack in judgement.
“Lead the way, lass.”
His voice was tight, and she could tell he too was feeling less confident than he had been upon first finding her on the main stairs of the grand house.
Kenna had not been in this hidden corridor in years, not since she was a child playing seek and find with Elizabeth. When her uncle had caught them, he’d tried to banish them from ever using the hidden passageways again since they were supposed to be a secret. Children were often hard to coerce into secrecy, and to keep them quiet, he’d entrusted both of them with the care and keeping of the passageways and vault below.
She prayed that both of her relations would keep quiet about the vault now. Though Uncle Duncan was a loyalist, he would not want to give up to anyone the treasures he held so dear.
With her hand against the wall, Kenna felt her way along the stairs. Pieces of mortar crumbled against her palm. She pretended not to notice the brush of cobwebs or the scurrying of spiders over her fingertips. Every so often, Sorley’s fingers brushed against hers, and a tingle raced over her arm to her chest and down the other side. Nerves, she deemed the frissons to be, for she refused to think they might be anything else.
At last, they came to the bottom of the narrow stairs, and she stopped, the heat of his large body inches from her back. Left was the way out, and right was the way to the vault. Every instinct in her body told her to run to the left, to get the hell away from here as fast as they could. But they’d both be caught and shot to death if seen in the plaid clothes they had on, and so on weak legs, she turned right, feeling her way along until she reached the next secret door and fumbled for the opening.
