“Aye, that thing you do when you abduct innocent women to extort money from unsuspecting victims!” she explained acidly. “Don’t tell me the thought never crossed your mind, Scot!”
He blinked and stared up at her and then grinned suddenly.
“Don’t look at me that way!”
“Which way?”
“As though the idea only just occurred to you.”
His grin widened. “Och, lass, how much are you worth?”
Elizabet gasped in outrage.
She wanted to assure him that no one would pay anything for her. Despite her bravado, she doubted a distant cousin who had no inkling she even existed and didn’t have the first notion she was to be tossed at him like so much baggage would bother to lift a finger to help her. And she wasn’t about to give up her meager dowry either, when it was all she had left in the world. Besides, even if she promised her captor every last coin, she had no assurance he would set her free. If this madman wished to ravage her, kill her and toss her body to the wolves, no one would care. The thought wholly disheartened her.
He shook his head. “I have no intention of ransoming you.”
Elizabet eyed him dubiously, unsure whether to be relieved or afraid at that revelation.
Her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room, and she peered about, trying to gauge their surroundings. Itdid smell like death in this place. It reminded her of some old, forsaken crypt.
“Where are we?”
“Somewhere safe.”
Light. She needed more light in order to be able to assess her chances of escape. “I’m afraid of the dark,” she lied. Or mayhap it wasn’t a lie. Somewhere near where she sat, the sound of little scurrying feet brought a gasp to her lips.
“If you promise to behave, I’ll light a candle.”
Elizabet bristled. No one had commanded her to behave since she was a child. But she nodded anyway.
“I promise,” she said grudgingly, and took comfort in the fact that a lie told in self-defense wasn’t any sort of lie at all. God would surely never hold it against her.
The first opportunity this madman gave her to run she intended to use it. But he seemed to sense that and stood between her and the door, giving her no opportunity, and she cursed him beneath her breath. She could see his silhouette move through the deepening shadows like a sinister wraith. After an interminable moment, the promised light appeared.
Elizabet blinked as she stared at the half-burned taper he held in his hand. Her gaze moved to his face.
The rotten devil had the face of an angel. It was that face she reasoned, that had made her so vulnerable. She had mistakenly believed that no man with a face like his could do something so ignoble.
Well, she had been wrong after all.
At least with the candle lit, the room didn’t appear so frightening. Evidently, it had been used, though not recently, as someone’s home. It was dusty now, and cobwebs had formed in the corners. Anything that might have made the place seem cozy had been removed, and all that remained were the barest essentials.
She was seated at a small, crude table, with a portion of its top lopped off. In one corner of the roomwas a small brazier, and stacked beside it were a few pots and pans. In another corner lay a lone pallet.
He went to the brazier, lit it, and then came toward her once more, his presence inescapable. She cast a yearning glance at the door.
“What is this place?”
He towered before her, looking down at her, and Elizabet swallowed.
“A friend lived here. She’s wed now and gone.”
A lover, Elizabet wondered?
She cast him a glance, one brow arched. No man ever befriended a woman save to acquire her assets, be it her wealth or her body. “A friend?” she asked dubiously.
She didn’t seem to be able to keep herself from baiting him, and that simple fact unsettled her. God only knew, she wasn’t a stupid woman. She knew nothing about this man, but her instinct was confusing her. Somehow, though he appeared threatening, she didn’tfeelthreatened. Foolish conclusion after she’d witnessed the felling of her own brother.
