to talk to me, hey? Look, Donald, they’ve brought us a lady to share our quarters!” With his foot, he poked at the man on the floor. The Highlander did not respond.
The man glanced at Kate. “Look at that, they near killed that lad afore they dragged him in here. Ah think he’s dead.”
Kate looked at the prone fellow in alarm. He was motionless, but could have been sleeping as much as dead. His plaid and long-limbed, athletic build made her think of her brother and kinsmen. Lowering to her hands and knees, she crawled toward him and touched his shoulder tentatively.
“Sir, are you well?” she asked in Gaelic. He did not move when she pushed, though she rocked the weight of his big body.
“ Och , that lad’s gone for sure,” the seated mandrawled. “So ’tis thee and me, lassie.” He grinned, showing rotten teeth. “And I find I canna resist ye.”
Kate scrambled backward toward the relative protection of the wall and pulled her knees even higher under her skirts, wrapping her arms around herself. She had to find some way out, she thought desperately. The barred window was too high and narrow for anyone to wriggle through even if he could reach it, and the cell door, a framework of iron bars, was latched shut by a stout iron lock.
She studied it, recognizing the style of the lock—she had some familiarity with the things, having spent many childhood hours in the company of the Duncrieff blacksmith. Given time and a small knife or a set of scissors, she could probably loosen it, she thought. But she had nothing but the few silver hairpins left in the tangled strands of her hair, and they were too pliable for the purpose.
The scruffy man still watched her, and after a few moments came toward her in a half crouch. She had dreaded that, and glanced toward the corridor. No guards were in sight.
“Hey, lass,” he said, sitting down beside her. “Cold in here. Let me keep ye warm.” He slipped his arm around her, leaning heavily against her.
Kate pulled back. “Get away from me,” she snapped.
“ Och , lassie. We need to watch oot for one another in this place.” His hand gripped her upper arm hard. “And Ah know they put ye in here because Ah’ve been cooperative, hey?”
Kate tried again to pull away, feeling dizzy and stillweak from her earlier ordeal. “Get off me,” she demanded, wriggling in his hold. He pressed close, smelling unwashed and vile.
“Oh, lass, ye’re a bonny thing, and it’s aye so nice to share me quarters. Ah heard them sayin’ ye like to share beds wi’ men,” he growled, and slid his hand into her hair, pulling so hard she cried out with the pain. His face moved closer, his lips grazing her cheek. Kate shuddered, braced both hands on his chest, chains clanking, and pushed against him with all her strength.
Chapter 6
A shadow fell over both of them, and Kate saw a pair of muscled, half-bare legs under a rumpled plaid. Just then, a huge hand descended to grab her assailant’s coat, lifting the man away and dumping him on the slate with a thud.
“Leave her be,” the Highlander said.
“ Och! ” The man half sprawled on the floor and came to a seated position. “Ah thought ye was dead!”
“I am not, and you will keep away from the lass.”
Kate gaped up at her rescuer—he was an unkempt, unshaven giant, face and hands dirty and blood-crusted, an altogether frightening appearance. She had never been so glad to see anyone in her life.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“ Och , Highland Donald,” the man drawled. “She’s a wee harlot, this one. We’ll each get a turn.” He slid toward Kate again, though she writhed.
“Get—off,” the Highlander growled, leaning down to grab a handful of brown coat, hauling the man up in one great fist. He flung the Lowlander aside like a sack of beans. The man hit the wall with a dull thud, rolled over, and sat up looking dazed. Then he scuttled into a corner to glare at them in silence.
Kate stared upward. The
The man glanced at Kate. “Look at that, they near killed that lad afore they dragged him in here. Ah think he’s dead.”
Kate looked at the prone fellow in alarm. He was motionless, but could have been sleeping as much as dead. His plaid and long-limbed, athletic build made her think of her brother and kinsmen. Lowering to her hands and knees, she crawled toward him and touched his shoulder tentatively.
“Sir, are you well?” she asked in Gaelic. He did not move when she pushed, though she rocked the weight of his big body.
“ Och , that lad’s gone for sure,” the seated mandrawled. “So ’tis thee and me, lassie.” He grinned, showing rotten teeth. “And I find I canna resist ye.”
Kate scrambled backward toward the relative protection of the wall and pulled her knees even higher under her skirts, wrapping her arms around herself. She had to find some way out, she thought desperately. The barred window was too high and narrow for anyone to wriggle through even if he could reach it, and the cell door, a framework of iron bars, was latched shut by a stout iron lock.
She studied it, recognizing the style of the lock—she had some familiarity with the things, having spent many childhood hours in the company of the Duncrieff blacksmith. Given time and a small knife or a set of scissors, she could probably loosen it, she thought. But she had nothing but the few silver hairpins left in the tangled strands of her hair, and they were too pliable for the purpose.
The scruffy man still watched her, and after a few moments came toward her in a half crouch. She had dreaded that, and glanced toward the corridor. No guards were in sight.
“Hey, lass,” he said, sitting down beside her. “Cold in here. Let me keep ye warm.” He slipped his arm around her, leaning heavily against her.
Kate pulled back. “Get away from me,” she snapped.
“ Och , lassie. We need to watch oot for one another in this place.” His hand gripped her upper arm hard. “And Ah know they put ye in here because Ah’ve been cooperative, hey?”
Kate tried again to pull away, feeling dizzy and stillweak from her earlier ordeal. “Get off me,” she demanded, wriggling in his hold. He pressed close, smelling unwashed and vile.
“Oh, lass, ye’re a bonny thing, and it’s aye so nice to share me quarters. Ah heard them sayin’ ye like to share beds wi’ men,” he growled, and slid his hand into her hair, pulling so hard she cried out with the pain. His face moved closer, his lips grazing her cheek. Kate shuddered, braced both hands on his chest, chains clanking, and pushed against him with all her strength.
Chapter 6
A shadow fell over both of them, and Kate saw a pair of muscled, half-bare legs under a rumpled plaid. Just then, a huge hand descended to grab her assailant’s coat, lifting the man away and dumping him on the slate with a thud.
“Leave her be,” the Highlander said.
“ Och! ” The man half sprawled on the floor and came to a seated position. “Ah thought ye was dead!”
“I am not, and you will keep away from the lass.”
Kate gaped up at her rescuer—he was an unkempt, unshaven giant, face and hands dirty and blood-crusted, an altogether frightening appearance. She had never been so glad to see anyone in her life.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“ Och , Highland Donald,” the man drawled. “She’s a wee harlot, this one. We’ll each get a turn.” He slid toward Kate again, though she writhed.
“Get—off,” the Highlander growled, leaning down to grab a handful of brown coat, hauling the man up in one great fist. He flung the Lowlander aside like a sack of beans. The man hit the wall with a dull thud, rolled over, and sat up looking dazed. Then he scuttled into a corner to glare at them in silence.
Kate stared upward. The
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