He made himself speak, the effort of forming syllables almost impossible after so many years of almost constant silence. “H-h-hewill not allow—Th-that is, my m-master—” He held that last word in his mouth like bitter venom, unable to go on, or even to spit out the poison. His face worked.
“It’s all right.” That was the man this time. His voice was soft, lighter than Lindsay had expected. When he leaned forward to rest his hand on Lindsay’s bare shoulder, his touch felt good in a different way from the woman’s touch. Less compelling, gentler.
How long had it been since Lindsay had felt any touch that was not painful?
Years.
Decades.
“I know you’re afraid,” the man said. His accent was English, with a slight burr to it. “But distance will break your thraldom to MacCormaic. He cannot force you to do his bidding when he is not here.”
Lindsay flushed at his words—so, they knew about his inability to disobey his master’s commands. His mind flashed to the night before and Duncan’s hateful handsome face, bright with cruel amusement, white teeth glinting in the candlelight.
“Beg for my mercy, cur. Beg like the dog you are.”
And God, how Lindsay had begged.
“I can’t escape,” Lindsay said now, his voice hoarse. “Where would I go? He w-will find me. He will always find me, he says.”
“He won’t,” the woman said fiercely. “Not when you’re with us. And you will stay with us as long as you need to.”
Lindsay turned his good eye to her again, cradling his hurt hand against his chest. Just looking at her reassured him somehow, as did the certainty in her tone. Could it be true? Could they protect him from Duncan?
The man said, “From here it is but a few miles to the coast—a boat awaits us there. As soon as we board, we will be on our way to France and safety. You need only trust us. Will you do that?”
Lindsay stared at them for several long moments. In truth, he had no choice. This was likely going to be his only chance to escape his slavery—he had to seize it.
“Yes,” he whispered. “Yes, I will.”
The woman smiled at him then, that wide and dazzling smile. Then she reached past him and casually wrenched the end of one heavy chain from the wall as easily as if she’d just picked a daisy. Chunks of rock and dust fell to the filthy floor.
“Come,” she said, reaching for his collar. “Let’s have this off. You’ll need to shift, mon cher. We are making our way to the boat on four legs.”
Chapter One
Alittle more thana century later
