by Diana Cosby
A belief they would come to regret.
Once the servant disappeared, Seathan sheathed his dagger, drew his sword, and headed up the turret.
As he reached the second floor, he took in the limestone floors inlaid with granite, the hand-woven tapestries lining the walls, as well as the simple yet elegant sconces crafted with fey-inspired images.
Linet’s scream echoed from the end of the corridor.
Seathan bolted toward the entry.
“Go to Hades!” she yelled.
He flattened himself against the wall.
The door to the chamber was open. Tearlach stood halfway across the room, feet spread in an aggressive stance. Below him Linet lay on the floor, her hands and feet bound, slashes of red streaking across her face.
The bastard had beaten her! Fury ignited. From his limited angle, Seathan saw no one else within the chamber. Where was Dauid’s wife? He’d find her after he’d killed Tearlach. The viscount would never touch anyone again.
Sword raised, Seathan strode inside. “Tearlach!”
The viscount whirled. Satisfaction crawled across his face. He flicked a glance toward Linet. “I see your lover has arrived to save you. Touching.”
The door behind Seathan slammed shut.
He whirled.
Five guards stood against the wall, their swords drawn.
God’s teeth!
“A guard spotted you and your men near the entry to the tunnel at first light,” Tearlach said. “I was curious as to your actions, so I allowed you entry.”
“My men,” Seathan hissed. At Tearlach’s scowl, he understood. With the complexity of the maze, they hadn’t yet been discovered.
“I will find them. The tunnels are being searched as we speak.” Satisfaction smeared his face. “Once I found Linet, I knew how you had learned about the secret entry. Now, you will regret that you dared return—the cost will be your life.”
“No!” Linet yelled.
Disdain darkened Tearlach’s gaze. “Just think, dear sister, you will watch your lover die, something to ponder as the Earl of Fallon takes you in your marriage bed.”
With a roar, Seathan charged the viscount. Satisfaction swept him as his sword severed flesh.
Tearlach screamed, stumbled back. “Seize him!”
Steps echoed behind him.
Seathan whirled, met the first knight’s blade.
Steel scraped.
With the skill honed by countless battles, he angled his sword, drove deep, shoved the attacker away, then spun to deflect the next assailant’s charge.
The man swung.
Blades met; shuddered against the force.
Seathan withdrew his dagger, shoved its razor-edged tip into the man’s chest.
Eyes wide with pain, he collapsed.
Pain streaked across Seathan’s left shoulder. He cursed, rounded to meet the third attacker. Before he could swing, a knight slammed hard against his side.
The warrior before him dove for his feet and tugged.
Air rushed past him.
“Seathan!” Linet screamed.
Seathan slammed against the floor. Pain ripped through his skull. He kicked free, started to roll away. A knight caught his hand. Another warrior secured his other shoulder. A third man held his blade to Seathan’s throat.
“Do not kill him!” Linet begged.
Tearlach glared at his sister, his hand pressed against the deep cut in his shoulder; blood dripped through his fingers. “Silence!”
Frantic, she met Seathan’s gaze. She couldn’t allow Fulke to kill him. “Please, I will do anything if you spare his life.”
Seathan struggled against his captors. “Agree to nothing!”
Tears burned her eyes. Seathan didn’t understand. He’d trusted her and now he would die. No, there was still a chance. She refused to look at him. If she did, she’d fall apart.
Decision made, she met her brother’s gaze. If it saved Seathan’s life, it’d be worth the cost. “If you spare him, I will marry the Earl of Fallon.”
“No!” Seathan roared.
Fulke laughed, a cold, ugly sound as he held a piece of cloth to his wound to staunch the flow. “My dear, the time for choices is long past. Whatever was once yours now belongs to me.” He arched a brow. “As for Lord Grey, his life is forfeit.”
She twisted on the floor. “You bastard! Have you no conscience? No respect for our parents or their wishes?”
“None whatsoever. You were a fool to believe I ever did.” Her brother gestured toward the guards. “Take the Scot to the dungeon.”
The guards lifted Seathan to his feet, the blade flush against his neck. As the two knights hauled him toward the door, he pretended to comply, limping to give the illusion he was too weak to fight.
A step.
Two.
The guards’ grips slightly relaxed.
He dropped, used his entire weight to jerk free of the knights’ hold.
“Get him!” Tearlach yelled.
Seathan rolled, grabbed his blade, and with quick thrusts, dispatched one of the three remaining men. Sword readied, he faced the other two knights.
A boom echoed from outside.
“We are under attack,” a guard yelled from outside. “To arms!”
Tearlach glared out the window.
Another boom echoed within the castle. Rocks exploded, then landed with a hard clatter.
“’Tis the rebels,” another man shouted. “They have a catapult!”
Relief stormed Seathan. Alexander, Duncan, and their men had arrived!
Fury burned Tearlach’s face. He cast the cloth aside. Blood stained his right arm. “Help the men below. I will take care of Lord Grey.”
Swords raised, his knights rushed toward the stairs.
Shouts echoed from below. The distant clash of blades rang out.
He strode toward the viscount while the sounds of battle raged outside. “No one will save you now,” Seathan spat, his fury for the torture Tearlach had delivered, for his brutality to Dauid’s wife, and his abuse of Linet melding to this one moment.
“You think not?” Fulke reached toward Linet.
Seathan dove for Tearlach. Primal satisfaction surged through Seathan as he slammed his fist into the viscount’s face, felt the crunch of bone. “Never will you touch her again!”
On a screech of pain, Tearlach caught him, rolled, slammed his fist into Seathan’s face.
His vision blurred.
Linet screamed.
Tearlach delivered another blow, his fist ramming Seathan mercilessly. “This time,” he seethed, “I will watch you die, will savor the last drip of blood draining from your worthless body. Then, before her intended mounts her, I”—he dragged in another breath—“I will give Linet to my men for their pleasure.” He raised his fist, swung again.
Through the wash of pain, Seathan caught the viscount’s hand inches from his face.
Tearlach’s hand trembled.
Seathan held. “Neither you, nor any other man, will ever touch her again.” He shoved.
The viscount fell back, scrambled to his feet.
Seathan lifted his blade, the shouts of battle below rising to a fierce din. Aiming his sword at Tearlach, he charged.
The viscount angled his blade, deflected his blow.
Steel screamed within the chamber as if a curse.
Pain seared Seathan’s shoulder. His blood stained the woven silk carpet, an irony of red against the muted blues and creams. He wove, fighting off the dizziness and a weakening arm. Time seemed to still as he fought, each swing stealing much-needed strength.
Victory glittered in Tearlach’s eyes as he held his ground against Seathan’s next attack. Pushing free of Seathan’s blade, the viscount swung hard.
Seathan caught the blow, barely. He shoved.
The viscount stumbled back, but both men had lost their swords.
“He has a dagger!” Linet yelled.
Sunlight glinted off the blade in Tearlach
’s hand.
In a deft move, Seathan withdrew his own dagger. With war-honed precision, he threw.
The viscount gasped. He glanced to where blood, rich and thick, surged from the blade deep within his chest. His dagger clattered to the floor. Eyes wide with disbelief, he collapsed into a heap.
Dragging in deep breaths, Seathan walked to stand before him. “Rot in Hades where you belong.”
The viscount stared at him, hatred melding with fury. He opened his mouth as if to speak. His body trembled, then stilled, and his eyes stared into nothing.
Another boom echoed from below. A Scottish battle cry echoed. Men screamed.
“Seathan!”
He hurried to Linet, knelt, untied her, and helped her stand. He drew her into his arms and held her tight. “Thank God you are safe.” Would he ever forget the sight of her tied and beaten?
A sob escaped her. “I thought…”
Seathan stroked his thumb across a bruise upon her face, his hand trembling. “We are both safe.”
She glanced over to where Tearlach lay dead, and then lowered her head.
“He gave me no choice,” he quietly said.
Linet rested her cheek against the curve of his neck. “I know.”
Emotions welled inside him, the feeling immense. There was so much he wanted to say, to tell her.
The echo of battle below rose.
He sucked in a steadying breath. “I must join my men.”
She lifted her head, understanding in her eyes. “I know.”
He cupped her face within his hands, pressed a gentle kiss upon her mouth. “I will return, on that I swear.” And he would, if he had to crawl. He started to turn.
“Wait.” Linet hurried over to a door he’d not noticed before. She pulled the heavy wood open.
Brighde stumbled out, her eyes wide as they fell upon Seathan. “Dauid?”
The sight of the battered, bruised woman filled him with fresh rage, but he focused on the fact that she lived. “Is hiding in the dungeon with my men.”
Relief swept the woman’s face. Then she stared with shock and relief at Tearlach sprawled upon the floor.
“He will harm you no more,” Seathan said.
Another Scottish war cry echoed from below.
Seathan turned to Linet. The feelings she inspired burst within his heart. There was so much he wanted to tell her.
And no time.
“Stay here until I return,” he ordered.
Defiance appeared through the bruises darkening upon her face. She reached down, lifted her brother’s sword.
Seathan’s eyes narrowed. “You will not fight.”
She swallowed hard. “It was my brother who brought devastation to many.”
“Fulke is dead.” He gently removed the blade from her hands, set it upon the bed. “The responsibility of Breac Castle is mine.”
Shock widened her eyes. “Breac Castle is my home.”
“Nay, Breac Castle belongs to Scotland. I reclaim what is rightfully ours.”
The cacophany of blades echoed below, this time closer.
Bedamned. “We will talk when I return. Stay here!” Seathan turned and bolted toward the battle below.
Chapter 21
Emotion swamped Linet as she stood on the wall walk and stared through the crenellations at the setting sun. The orange-red glow embraced the land, a soft silk of color blanketing the roll of hills and endless forest beyond. Her home was safe. She curled her hand upon the weathered stone.
No, this majestic fortress was no longer her home.
After the rebels had defeated her brother’s knights, as Seathan had promised before he’d bolted from Fulke’s chamber, he’d reclaimed it for the Scottish cause. His seizing this formidable stronghold for the rebels made sense, and after the weapons were secured, he’d stood in the middle of the bailey and accepted fealty from her brothers’ men.
But a part of her grieved for a home lost.
The wave of linen had her looking down. Warmth filled her at the sight of Dauid and his wife below, how he held her in the shadows.
Linet turned away from their private moment, thankful they’d been given a second chance. Before the knights within the castle, Seathan had surprised Dauid by appointing him master-at-arms of Breac Castle. He and his wife would remain here, never again to be apart.
Theirs was a happy ending, a fate that would elude her. But she had plans and would make her own path, the life before her one within the Highlands.
“I thought I would find you here.”
At Seathan’s deep burr, she turned. An ache built in her heart as she stared at the powerful Scottish lord, a man who commanded many, a man as admired as feared, but to her, the man who’d taught her to love. Surrounded by the green of the forest and the flow of streams, this powerful Scot had won her heart. But he still shielded his love from her, and with his emotional scars, he forever would.
“I have always enjoyed standing upon the wall walk and looking over the land,” she said, her voice calm, giving no hint of the turbulent emotions brewing inside.
He caught her waist and drew her to him. “’Tis almost as beautiful as you.”
Within the safety of his arms, her heart ached. She wanted the one thing he would never give. She knew that now, had known it since she’d watched him walk toward her after the battle. Since then, he’d not spoken of their future, only plans to strengthen Breac Castle’s defenses.
His life.
One that did not include her.
He lowered his mouth to hers, soft, intense. Tears threatened to fall. With a sigh, he drew back, the desire in his eyes stealing her breath.
“The night falls, Breac Castle is secured, and we have supped. Come with me, I wish to make love to a woman who moves me as no other.”
She moved him as no other. She doubted his feelings would ever be more, or for her, enough. “I love you,” she whispered. Piercing green eyes stared at her, hard, hot, with an intensity she’d never seen. Silence spread, swirled around her.
She held her breath. Waited for those magical words, but his silence proclaimed the truth. Only in the privacy of the bedroom would he show her the depth he felt for her. Words he was incapable of saying—ever.
“Linet, I—”
“I am not asking for a vow in return. This night I wish to share your bed as well.”
On a groan, Seathan lifted Linet in his arms. He cradled her against him, and headed toward the stairs.
The haze of morning light filtered through the chamber, nudging Seathan awake. The scent of their lovemaking was soft against the fresh spring breeze. A smile touched his face as he thought of the many times he and Linet had made love throughout the night. He might have initiated their love play last eve, but she’d quickly discovered and exploited his weaknesses as if a seasoned temptress.
Memories of her passion curled through his mind. What she made him feel had little to do with his needs and everything to do with a craving of his soul. She brought a fullness to his life that until he’d met her had never existed, not even with Iuliana, a woman whom he’d believed he’d loved. Now he understood what he’d felt for her paled in comparison to the emotions Linet inspired.
Aching to hold her, to smell the scent of her skin against his, to savor the smile that was uniquely hers, he rolled over and reached out.
His fingers slid through the tangle of sheets.
Seathan opened his eyes. A frown drew across his brow as he took in the empty swath of bed where she had lain, where her body had welcomed him, and where he’d taken her completely. He looked around the chamber.
Empty.
His heart stopped. Where was she?
The soft rustle of clothes had him turning toward the corner window. Blended within the shadows, Linet stared out the window as if transfixed by the dawning day.
“Linet?”
She started, slowly turned. A smile touched her mouth, but her lips held an edge of sadness.
Unease crept throu
gh him. “What is wrong?”
“I wish you to arrange an escort so that I may leave for the Highlands this day.”
Confused, he shoved to his feet. “Why? This is your home. You are free to remain.”
“My home?” A wisp of regret crept into her voice. “If this were truly my home, I would not have to be informed of what I am free or not free to do.” He started to speak but she shook her head. “Unless I am imprisoned, I will go.”
She was not making an ounce of sense. “I would never imprison you.”
“Then you will let me leave?”
No! He wanted her to stay so he could go to her in the night, so she could forever share his dreams. But were his the wants of a selfish man? By keeping her at Breac Castle, he placed her in danger. Once King Edward learned he’d seized the Scottish stronghold, Longshanks would retaliate.
Neither could he forget the grief on her face as they’d buried Tearlach. Though she despised her brother, she held fond memories of their childhood, of loving the man before his soul had turned black.
No, he couldn’t lose her. However wrong, however selfish, he didn’t want her to leave. “Stay with me.”
Linet watched him, lavender eyes so intense it was as if she looked straight to his soul. “Desire is but temporary. I need more.”
Heart aching, Seathan walked over and cupped her face within his hands. “You said you loved me.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. “Do not.”
Then he understood the errant path where her thoughts had strayed. Seathan laughed, joy pouring through him.
Linet tried to break free. “Let me go.”
He sobered. “And if I did, I would be a grand fool. I love you, Linet. Do you not realize that, you daft woman?”
She stopped struggling. “What?”
His heart swelled as if it would burst. “Never did I believe I would trust another woman, but you have taught me to trust, and more importantly, to love.” He wiped a tear from her cheek. “I would rather live a day with you than endure a lifetime of living alone.”
Tears flowed freely down her cheeks.
“I could not have received a finer present than to be blessed by the gift of you.” He paused, needing her to understand. “I have wronged you, am unworthy of your love, but it changes naught. I love you. If you leave me, I shall never recover. You are my heart, my soul, and the woman I will always love. Stay with me, Linet. Be my wife.”
