“Neither of those are my intention.”
“Aye, but both are the result of yer damned selfishness,” he snapped. “Now, if ye’ve no further reason tae take up my time…”
“I do, in fact.” She summoned her courage. “Is Romilly back yet? She had mentioned that ye would send her somewhere, tae carry out an important task.”
“And she agreed,” he cut in. “And did so with neither question nor complaint, as a good daughter should.”
“Might I know where she has gone?”
Now he looked up again, and squinted at her. “Why on earth would ye need tae know such a thing?”
She met his gaze with difficulty. “For my own peace of mind, that’s all.”
Angus stood slowly, bristling. “I find that yer inquiry raises grave doubts in my mind. That, indeed, it makes me wonder, were I tae confide in ye, would ye then use that information taesabotageyer sister’s efforts?”
Katherine felt the blood drain from her face at such an accusation. “How could ye believe that of me?”
“Because ye have shown no loyalty,” he roared. “Because ye are a wretched and disobedient lass who believes the sun ought tae rise and set based solely upon yer childish sense of right and wrong, instead of what ye owe yer family and yer clan. Because our priorities are so damned apart from each other’s that I feelas though ye are little more than a stranger haunting this castle; one who takes up food and space and does nothing tae earn it.”
Katherine’s lower lip quivered. She had no words in response to such an onslaught. She had long suffered his ire and disapproval, and she had almost come to believe there was nothing left for him to say that could hurt her so deeply.
She was heartbroken to discover how wrong she’d been.
“Now leave my sight at once,” he growled, taking his seat again and returning to his scrolls. “Do as ye please, for ‘tis all ye’ll ever do anyway. Just do it away from me so that I might attend tae my duties.”
Katherine turned and left his study, her eyes brimming with tears.
She did not know where she would go or what she would do. Her instinct was to walk through the castle gates, and continue until she found a cliff of suitable height to fling herself from. Her own existence had been dismissed as utterly useless, and that was a blow from which she did not believe she could recover.
As she walked out into the courtyard in a daze, however, she was sharply interrupted by a commotion at the gates. A messenger rode through, looking flustered and red-faced.
“Lady Romilly has been imprisoned,” he announced breathlessly, dismounting and running past Katherine. “She is in the dungeons of the Oliphant Clan!”
The shock of the news hit Katherine like a bucket of icy water, and she reeled slightly, forcing herself not to swoon.
It seemed her worst fears had come true.
3
Bryan Black, the captain of the guard for the Oliphant Clan, whistled as he made his way down into the dungeons.
In truth, the happy tune on his lips in no way reflected the feelings in his heart.
Rather, he forced himself to whistle jauntily, especially when passing the sentries on the way into the dankness and gloom. It represented his best effort to hide how uneasy it made him to venture down there—from others, and from himself as well.
He was not accustomed to feelings of fear, having guarded the Oliphant Castle for so many years. He’d patrolled the borders of the land, clashed with bandits, even faced death upon fields of battle. He was largely known by his fellows to be unflappable, able to smile and laugh in the presence of danger. It was a facade he’d worked hard to cultivate; not out of ego or fear of being thought weak, but largely because he felt he owed it to those under his command. No one willing to take up arms in defense of their clan ought to see his captain cowed, and feel a sharper panic as a result.
The dungeons, though. They were another matter entirely, not that he’d ever confided those feelings to anyone.
It would have been easy enough for Bryan to blame the harsh chill in the air, the maddeningly constant sound of dripping water, the moans, and screams of the prisoners, or even the skittering rats and spiders for his dread. And true enough, all of those things contributed to it in their own small ways.
But more than any of that, it was theideaof the accursed place.
Bryan had long since made peace with the notion of his own death. His entire purpose was to lay his life on the line for his clan, and he accepted the risks gladly. It might come from an arrow in the line of duty, or from being captured and executed. Even injuries that would leave him unable to walk or function on his own did not necessarily frighten him, for he’d seen such fates befall comrades, and he had likewise seen them endure.
The notion of losing freedom, though, or being forever condemned to a hellish place of shadow and sickness and misery, sent a shudder through him; one he couldn’t seem to shake.
He knew he would never spend a day inthesedungeons as a prisoner, naturally, given his loyalty to his laird. That did not guarantee that he would not see the inside of some other clan’s dungeons in the fullness of time, and in his most private moments, he fervently prayed he would never be taken alive.
