At once, his hand came out, clutching a fistful of crumpled paper. He opened his palm, and there, in full view, lay the pamphlet. Melody closed her eyes. It was undeniably him, with words like ‘Kinslayer!’ written underneath.
What did those maids say about him hanging me from the walls of the Keep?
The man did not react, however. He simply handed the pamphlet back to her and stared at the blank sheets and the charcoal beneath, visibly consternated.
“These are drawin’ implements,” he said at last. “Did ye plan to draw me as a gargoyle this time?”
“I… I didn’t draw the picture on that pamphlet.”
“Nay, I imagine nae,” he responded brusquely, handing back her paper and charcoal.
She swallowed, dropping her charcoal. “I can explain.”
“Nay time,” he interrupted, seizing her by the wrist. “As I imagine ye ken already, I am Callum Bain, Laird of ClanMacDean. Ye have tangled with the wrong man, I can tell ye that.”
“I meant no offence, I just…”
“Enough.” Dragging her away from the door, he wrenched it open. “Come with me, lass.”
2
The sketch on the pamphlet was pretty accurate. Callum had seen various depictions of himself in various papers and pamphlets. His least favorite was a version of himself as a tall, lank, hunched-over goblin clutching a knife, with bodies littered around his feet. The goblin had a huge nose, badly kinked at the bridge, sticking-out ears, and a truly grotesque grin.
Hedidhave a large nose, and therewasa kink at the bridge, a remnant of an old fight. Still,thatpicture smarted a little. The English girl’s pamphlet was oddly flattering. True, he was depicted as a beast, but there was undeniablepowerin that image.
“Where are you taking me?” she yelped, trying and failing to unhook his fingers from around her wrist.
“Stop strugglin’,” he snapped. “Ye willnae be harmed, but if ye think I’ll let ye wander off, ye have another thing comin’. I told me grandmother to leave off sendin’ women.”
She gave a growl of despair. “I am nae sent by anyone!”
He ignored her. The lass obviously had a good turn of phrase, and there was a spark in her eyes which intrigued him, but he had no leisure to beintriguedby anything right now.
He stopped by a tapestry and used his free hand to flick back the material to reveal a narrow door set into the wall behind it. He unlocked it and pushed the door open. As always, a gust of cold, fetid air gushed out. He clenched his jaw, trying not to breathe. The woman, of course, did not know that she should have held her breath and coughed pathetically.
“These are the dungeons,” she said, once she’d regained her breath. “You are taking me to the dungeons!”
He sighed. “Daenae fret, lass. Ye willnae be harmed.”
“Well, forgive me if I do not believe you!”
There was a short flight of stairs down into the first level of the dungeon. The air down here reeked, but some light filtered in through narrow windows set high in the walls. The damp wasn’ttoobad, and the guards patrolled regularly. It was not comfortable, but nor was it like the lower floors, all darkness and slime.
“Ye can stay in here, and have a wee think about the choices ye have made with yer life,” Callum snapped, hauling open the barred door to the nearest empty cell. Shoving the girl inside, he paused, peering in to make sure it reallywasunoccupied. A mound of straw piled up in the corner, and by the smell of it, the slop bucket was clean at least.
The girl staggered into the cell with a gasp and peered around herself with mounting horror.
“You can’t leave me here!” she gasped.
He lifted his eyebrows. “Oh, nay? I’m Laird MacDean. I can do as I like.”
“You are aterriblelaird.”
“Aye, and ye are a bad seducer,” he shot back.
Perhaps that wasn’t the fairest retort. She hadn’ttriedto seduce him, to her credit, although maybe she’d worked out early on that it wasn’t going to work. It was almost a pity, as she was much more attractive than the devilish little waifs his grandmother had set previously.
“Youcan’tleave me here,” she began, clasping her hands in front of herself. “There has been aterriblemisundersta?—”
