"Alexander, is it?” he growled, ignoring her request. “Have ye been gifting that pretty fellow with your favors then?"
"Ye are insulting. Ye are also drunk. I think ye would be wise to let me pass and then seek your bed."
"An I go to my bed this night, lass, t'will be with ye beneath me."
He lunged for her and she tried to avoid him but the train on her gown, small though it was, made her falter. She stumbled up against the wall and he took quick advantage of that, using his bulky frame to pin her there. Islaen struggled against his hold but realized with a growing panic that, drunk though he was, the man could hold her easily.
"My kin and my husband will see ye dead for this,” she gasped as he wrestled her to the ground.
"Such petty lordlings willnae be allowed to draw my blood. I will have the fair Lady Mary on my side as weel. She does hate ye, lass. She seems to think,” he panted as he struggled to pin her thrashing form firmly beneath him, “that, an I possess ye, young Iain will turn to her.” He tore open the front of her gown and frowned when, instead of the bared breasts he had expected, he saw a cloth wrapping. “What is this?” he muttered as he drew his dagger.
Islaen struggled to free her hands but he had her wrists pinned beneath his knees so firmly that she feared they could easily break. Trying to buck him off only wearied her, robbing her of breath. When he began to cut away her binding, she cried out softly for several times his dagger pricked her tender skin. He stared at her in open-mouthed astonishment when he finally cut away her binding and the look in his eyes made her skin crawl with revulsion.
"God's beard, lass, why should ye try to hide such bounty?” he rasped as his hands greedily mauled her breasts.
He shifted his position, freeing her hands. In that brief moment that she was free, Islaen struck at his face but the weight upon her wrists had cut off the flow of blood to her hands. She was unable to curl her fingers into the dangerous claws she had intended, her swipe at his face barely breaking the skin. It was enough to earn her a stunning slap, however, even as he pinned her wrists over her head with one meaty hand.
The moment his mouth touched her breasts she felt bile sting the back of her throat. She fought the urge to vomit as hard as she did the urge to weep knowing that neither action would gain her anything. Cursing him fluently and occasionally crying out as his teeth scored her soft skin, she continued to try and break free of him. To her horror all she accomplished was to further arouse him by the rubbing of her body against his.
Feeling his hand tearing at her braies, Islaen briefly gave into helplessness. As he tore her skirts in his nearly frantic attempt to get them out of his way, she realized there was one last weapon she had. The corridor they were in was dark and little used but sound carried far. There could be someone nearby and the fear of being seen in such an ignominious position now paled next to what she felt about what Lord Fraser was about to do to her. Opening her mouth, Islaen managed to get out several hearty screams of her husband's name before a swearing Lord Fraser stuffed a handkerchief in her mouth, nearly choking her in his effort to silence her. She could only pray that someone was near enough to have heard her.
Iain hesitated, frowning as he decided which way to go. There was a little-used passageway just ahead that would save him a few minutes and, pressing his hand to his throbbing side, he decided he would use it. He glanced at Alexander who strolled companionably at his side carrying a well ladened tray of food.
"I can take that from here,” Iain said, not sure he wanted Alexander along, especially if Islaen was in their chambers.
"Nay, ye cannae. Your poor wee wife will get naught if hands as unsteady as yours are carry this."
"I didnae say it was for Islaen,” Iain muttered and wondered if he sounded as much like a sulky child as he thought he did.
"Nay, ye didnae. I had just hoped ye might be taking an interest in your wee wife at last, ‘tis all."
"Ye are far too concerned with my wife, Alexander MacDubh."
"'Tis hard for a mon not to be when he has held the poor weeping lass as her husband pants after a whore. Aye, and when he has been the one she has had to talk with because her husband is rolling his eyes at that whore and nay speaking a word to her."
"Shall we just forget Lady Mary?"
"Aye, if ye have."
"I have."
"Just when did ye start to forget her, an I may be so curious?"
"'Tis nay your concern but t'was moments after I entered her chambers.” Iain looked sternly at his friend. “So, there is no wife for ye to take to your bed for a wee bit of consoling ere her husband starts to look about for her again."
"An I took your wife to my bed, friend,” Alexander said softly, “t'would not be but to console her and ye could look about all ye liked after your wenching paled, I wouldnae be giving her back."
Before a stunned Iain could make any response to that a scream ended the tense silence between them. Even as Iain recognized his name in that desperate cry he recognized the voice that delivered it. He raced towards the sound only dimly aware of the sound of Alexander tossing the tray aside and following him.
The sight that met his eyes blinded him with a rage that burned away all aches and weariness. With a feral growl he lunged for the man sprawled on top of Islaen. He pulled Lord Fraser off of Islaen and threw the man against the wall, then leapt upon the man.
Islaen was stunned by her abrupt rescue. One moment she was braced for the horrifying completion of her rape and the next an enraged Iain was hurling a far heavier Lord Fraser through the air. She met Alexander's concerned gaze blankly as he crouched over her. With an odd detachment she realized she was beginning to shake.
Taking the gag from her mouth, Alexander took one startled look at her bruised breasts and then began to tidy her tattered clothing as well as he could. “Ye have been keeping secrets, lass."
"They are too big,” she said dazedly.
Helping her sit up, he gently kissed her on the forehead. “What a great fool ye are for such a wee lass. Now, set here for I feel I must stop your husband from killing Lord Fraser. The mon deserves it, but t'would cause a great scandal."
