John whirled, cursing—for he was without shoes, mostly undressed, and swordless. He ran for the door, throwing it open.
Katherine did not move, stunned.
And Liam O’Neill burst into the room.
Rapier in hand, its tip bloodied, his gaze skewered Katherine. A split second later he had the sharp point piercing the thin skin of John’s throat. John backed up to the wall.Katherine clapped her hand to her mouth, shocked. Liam smiled savagely at her for an instant.
He said, “I take it my arrival is timely?”
Katherine gaped.
Hawke was furious. “I am going to kill you for this.”
“How?” Liam laughed at him. “Your few vassals are a pathetic excuse for protection, and are even now in bonds. Your rapier lies downstairs, broken by me myself. But if you wish to meet your death, why then, come. I will gladly send you on your way.”
John growled and jerked against the rapier, which cut into his skin. Blood welled from his throat.
“No!” Katherine screamed, rushing forward to stop them.
Liam glanced at her dispassionately, then said, “Take her, Mac.”
Macgregor stood in the doorway. Katherine had not even been aware of his presence until then. When he moved forward, toward her, she cried out—but had nowhere to run. The Scot caught her in a bearlike embrace.
Other men entered the room. Liam gave a sharp command and John’s arms were pulled roughly behind his back and he was locked into steel manacles. Liam sheathed his rapier and gripped John’s arm and jerked him forward to the bed. One of his men tossed another set of irons to him, which he caught. He manacled Hawke’s ankle to the foot of one of the bedposts.
Hawke was panting, flushed with rage. “You will never get away with this.”
Liam had been smiling, as if he enjoyed every single moment of his foul play, but now he faced Hawke, the smile gone, his eyes a silver blaze. “Tonight I will take her virtue as I should have done a month ago at Whitehall.”
Hawke jerked against his manacle. “You are as good as dead. I will hunt you down and kill you. Youaredead.”
“She is mine. She has always been mine.” Liam turned and, understanding him, Macgregor released Katherine.
Katherine realized now what was happening. Instinct commanded her. She rushed forward to the door. It wasboth useless and foolish, as O’Neill’s men blocked the way. Katherine screamed as they blocked her path, but no one touched her. Katherine tried to shove between two henchmen, but it was like trying to part a stone wall.
Then Liam caught her by her hair from behind, stopping her in her tracks abruptly. She gasped in pain. Then like a wild, untamed mare, she stood panting but fully alert and tensed to leap away, as he slowly wound her hair around his wrist, keeping the tension taught as he approached her. When his face was close to hers, he smiled.
Katherine comprehended his every intent—and she would have launched herself at him in a furious attack, except that if she did so she would rip her own hair from her head because of the way he held her. So she did not move, her gaze wide and locked with his.
Abruptly he released her hair and threw her over his shoulder, striding out of the room. Katherine began to writhe. He smacked her bottom once, hard. It hurt and she stilled, tears filling her eyes. Looking up as she dangled upon his back, she met John Hawke’s furious gaze one last time. Katherine wished she could reassure him. She saw that he was not just mad with fury over Liam’s abduction, but mad with worry for her, too.
And then Liam was rushing down the stairs and out of the house, Katherine bumping hurtfully upon his shoulder. He dumped her onto her feet. A cloak was thrown around her, he stuffed a gag in her mouth and tossed her onto a huge, dancing gray stallion. An instant later he was mounted behind her, his arm around her like a steel brace, and they were galloping away.
“I told you once before,” he rasped in her ear, “that I would come for you when the time was ripe.”
Katherine glared at him, her eyes filled with tears and wild, desperate fury.
II
THEBRIDE
20
Katherine had no choice but to hang on to the pommel of the saddle as Liam rode his stallion away from Barby Hall at a breakneck pace. He sat behind her, gripping her firmly, his body one with the horse. They thundered down the dark road, his men following, galloping toward the sea. The night was black, cold and moonless. It was impossible to see. But the huge horse raced flat out, head low, ears back, blowing hard. Liam pushed him savagely. Katherine watched the black road filled with shadows rushing at them, wondering if they would all die this night.
She was coming out of her shock now. Anger was roiling in her veins. But the gag prevented her from speaking, from shrieking, and there was no escaping Liam’s grip.
Liam urged his mount off the road. Katherine made a choked sound when she saw the steep, narrow path he intended them to take. Her grip tightened on the saddle even as Liam’s grip tightened upon her. Katherine wanted to curse at him, certain they would both break their necks now. The horse began to slide down the precarious descent on its haunches. Far below, Katherine could hear the drumbeat of the sea.
