Kieran’s heart thumped rapidly in his chest; had the man found out about his night with Vivien? Was he writing to inform Kieran that he had punished her? Or was it something to do with the slaughter he had inflicted on his army?
No matter how intrigued and worried about the contents of the missive Kieran was, he refused to rush to the messenger to collect it. Instead, he forced himself to occupy his mind elsewhere for the next three or four hours.
If Lord Stone could show his disrespect so blatantly, so could Kieran.
Finally, he decided the messenger had waited long enough; he himself could not wait anymore, so he made his way to the main gate of the castle, where the man was waiting for him.
Kieran could see the anger flaring up in the messenger’s eyes as he walked closer; good, he thought, let the English see what bad manners feel like.
He stopped in front of the man, who was much smaller in stature than he was, and crossed his arms across his chest, drawing himself up to his full, imposing height.
“Yes?” he said, not interested in formalities and polite conversation.
The messenger was clearly taken aback, a mixture of disgust and anger now mingling in his eyes.
“I have a message from Lord Stone,” he said stiffly.
“I’ve heard. Out with it.” Kieran tapped his foot on the ground, hoping that it would enrage the messenger even further.
It did, as the man clenched his jaw tightly and took a deep breath.
“My Lord wishes to invite you to dinner for the evening after tomorrow. He has things to discuss with you, Laird MacBride.”
“Oh,” Kieran said, pretending to consider it for a moment, before he answered, “No.”
He turned on his heel, not bothering to dismiss the messenger, and waved to the soldiers near him, “Please ensure our friend here leaves our land, post-haste.”
With that, he walked back into the castle, his mind a riot of confusion. There was nothing that he and Lord Stone needed to discuss; at least, not anything that Kieran was even willing to contemplate hearing. If it had been a matter of importance, he thought, Stone would have sent more than just a tiny little man on a horse with a pointless message.
That tiny little man on a horse reappeared at the same time the next day.
Kieran bid the sentries guarding the gate to have him seen out of the clan’s lands, again, with a message not to bother returning.
The next day, the tiny little man and his horse were at the gate again. This time, he handed a package to the guards, to be delivered to Kieran, with the message that he would want to attend the dinner Lord Stone was so kindly inviting him to attend.
When Kieran opened the package, his throat dropped into his stomach. He could not breathe; he could not move. He was rooted to the spot, staring at the plaid in his hands.
“Bailey,” he said as he exhaled.
Bailey was alive and had indeed been captured by Lord Stone – much as Kieran had suspected. He closed his eyes briefly; he had no choice now. Lord Stone had played a game with him once again, and he had no option but to attend this farce of a dinner to find out exactly what his enemy wanted from him.
The messenger was sent back with a positive reply but with the instruction that Kieran would only be available the following evening.
Stone may have won that round, but Kieran would not make it easy for him to continue to hold the upper hand.
Chapter Twenty-One
Vivien had spent most of the day wringing her hands, her heart aflutter in her chest, its tempo fast and jittery.
She was split in two emotionally. She was desperate to see Kieran again, even if it was to be under her husband’s roof and scrutiny, but on the other, she wished she could change the circumstances under which they were meeting again. She was not confident that she would be able to hide her feelings for Kieran from Reginald, but what terrified her most was why Reginald had called Kieran to dinner.
Bailey.
Bailey had been taken hostage and was being held in the dungeons beneath the castle, terrified and alone.
Vivien knew very little about her husband’s affairs, but she was aware of his reasoning for this dinner. He had something Kieran would want back, and he would use that advantage to achieve whatever it was that he wanted for himself. No one knew the bounds of Reginald’s cruelty and abuse better than she did; he most certainly had a nefarious plan in mind.
She just did not know what it was.
