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 emerged 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.
“What do make of that?” Eoin asked. “That was bizarre. I mean, you and I—well, two women—it’s not new to us, but Allyson doesn’t seem like a woman likely to appreciate that. Not after how she reacted to your promise of infidelity.”
“I didn’t promise to be unfaithful,” Ewan hissed.
“You didn’t promise to be faithful either,” Eoin tossed back.
“Never mind that for now. You’re right though. It appeared as though they were attempting to seduce her rather than threaten her with violence. He tried to kiss her, lecherous bastard.”
“Suddenly thinking yours should be the only kisses she receives?”
“Don’t put words into my mouth, little brother,” Ewan warned. Eoin was a little close to hitting the mark, and Ewan wasn’t in the mood to dissect his emotions. “We need to let the Elliot know his daughter is alive and mostly unharmed, from what we saw.”
They remained until Sir John and Elizabeth left the wall walk. Ewan prayed that Allyson tucked herself away and was beyond their reach. They slipped back to the camp and explained what they saw to Allyson’s father, who appeared ready to explode, but restrained his temper.
Chapter Twelve
As Allyson’s third day began, she remained in her chamber as long as she dared before slipping into the Great Hall. Despite the miserable visit to the dungeon, her exchange with Elizabeth when they met, and a disconcerting encounter on the wall walk with both Sir John and Elizabeth, they had left Allyson alone for the most part. She ate alone on the dais and slipped back to her chamber to gather her cloak. Lord Grey clarified that she could move about the keep freely, but if she attempted to step out to the bailey, she would find her new residence in the dungeon. She was on house arrest. The nobleman had said nothing about contacting her father or how much he would demand as a ransom. Allyson doubted he’d even attempt to contact her father. She sensed he would allow Sir John to have his fun with her until he became bored. Then Lord Grey might consider sending a missive, but the wealth visible in the keep proved they had no need for more coin.
Allyson made her way onto the wall walk as she had the previous day. She’d been searching the landscape the previous day and detected movement, but her unwelcome companions had interrupted her. She lifted her hand to her bruised cheek. She moved to the farthest corner from the guards on patrol and scanned the horizon and out to the woods near the loch that lay to the north. She swept her gaze over the meadow, certain she’d spied something the day before. Allyson squinted and shielded her eyes from the sun as she peered down, moving her head one way then another to view more. Her breath caught when she was sure she saw the grass sway as though something slithered among it, but whatever was there was far larger than a garter snake or asp. She braced her hands on the wall and leaned as far over the edge as she dared, going onto her toes.
Ewan was going to be ill. He was going to watch Allyson tip over the edge of the wall and plummet to her death. She was hanging over the wall, and he wondered if she still had her feet on the ground. He and Eoin returned to their hiding place from the day before, hoping Allyson would return to the battlements, but now he feared she would lose her balance and tumble from the battlements. His head jerked as he lifted it to get a better view, but he froze when she abruptly stood up, then waved. It wasn’t a gregarious sweeping of her arm. She tucked her arm against her chest and wiggled her fingers. She’d spotted him, and the smile he caught reassured him that she recognized who lay in wait. Allyson paused, then held up one finger, as though she wanted him to wait a moment. She dashed back the way she came, and Ewan feared for a moment that she might try to make an escape.
“What’s she doing?” Eoin muttered.
“I don’t know, but I’ll wait as long as it takes to find out.”
The wait ended up longer than either expected, but a half an hour later, Allyson reappeared. She held something in her hand, and Ewan watched her pull a loose stone from the wall. It appeared as though she tied whatever she held onto the rock with a ribbon. Allyson looked at Ewan as she dropped the rock over the side. She inched away from the wall; her reluctance obvious. She brushed her hair away from her face and looked once more toward the woods. She placed her hand over her heart as she continued to gaze at the trees. Ewan suspected she’d guessed her father waited there. Unlike the last two times she left the battlements, she walked without haste.
* * *
Allyson couldn’t believe her eyes when she detected the movement, but her intuition told her it was Ewan. It surprised her to see how close to the keep he hid, but as she considered it, his presence didn’t shock her as much as she’d expect. Knowing his massive frame and experienced sword arm were near comforted her. And wherever Ewan went, Eoin was sure to be at his side. She’d glimpsed the twin, but Ewan held her attention until she remembered her father. She deduced he would be with the twins, but he wouldn’t be dressed for slithering through weeds. Allyson knew better than to underestimate her father. He’d been a successful border laird since he was barely out of boyhood. He wielded a sword with such force men half his age shied away from sparring with him. Atop a horse, there were few who matched the force and balance with which he fought. But he would have stuck out among the grass if he’d attempted to approach in his breeks and doublet. When Allyson focused, she noticed Ewan’s plaid.
When her gaze met Ewan’s, an idea sparked, and she prayed she would find what she needed. She ran back to her chamber in search of a quill and ink, along with anything she might write on. She didn’t expect to be lucky, since the chamber they had appointed her was less than sparse. Her belongings and a few drying linens were all that was in the chamber besides the bed. There was no other furniture, no looking glass, not even a grate for the fire. She’d slept in her gown and cloak the past two nights and still shivered beneath the meager covers. When her chamber proved a lost cause for finding writing tools, she slipped down the passageway and descended a flight of stairs to the family chambers. She knew at that time of day, Lord Grey would be in the lists with his men, and Lady Grey would be overseeing the kitchens or making her rounds to the various workers in the bailey. Allyson kept her back against the wall as she inched toward Lady Grey’s chamber. She’d seen the woman retire to it the previous evening, and she counted on there being parchment and ink.
When she reached the woman’s door, she pressed her ear against it and held her breath. When no sound traveled to her, she pressed down on the door handle and pushed it open a crack. No one and nothing stirred, so she leaned forward to peek through the crevice between the hinges. Confident the chamber was empty, she dashed inside before pushing the door closed but not shut. She had no time to waste, fearing discovery and Ewan’s departure. She dashed across the floor until she reached a dressing table that held ink, quills, and parchment. More quills laid in the drawer she opened. She took one and dipped it into the ink, leaving the quills already on the table in their place. She wouldn’t risk Lady Grey discovering someone had tampered with her desk in case the woman kept count of the ones on the desktop. Allyson suspected she was the type to do that. She scrawled a note and carried the wet parchment and quill with her to her chamber. Once inside her room, she tore her note apart from the blank portion of the parchment hid that and the quill under the mattress. She blew on the damp ink until she was certain it had dried, then she dug through her satchel. She’d discovered an old ribbon at the bottom when she’d unpacked the morning she arrived. Allyson pulled her sign dubh free and severed a piece before cutting it down the center. She had no idea how many opportunities she would have to convey a message to Ewan. She didn’t dare waste the few supplies she had. Allyson darted up the stairs until she emerged on the wall walk. Before tying the note to the rock, she scanned its contents.
Safe for now. Untouched but tormented. Scottish women captive forced to serve. More brothel than noble home. Full garrison. Sage will torture if you’re captured. E, I fear for you. Take care. A.
It was concise but conveyed what she sensed were the most urgent pieces of information. She turned her head enough to use her peripheral vision to ensure none of the guards watched her before she dropped the stone over the side. She looked at Ewan and then to the trees once more, regretful that she hadn’t seen her father, but she spun on her heels and returned to the warmth of the keep’s interior.
* * *
