“Is that so?” Reginald asked, twirling his wine glass in his hand, “I am sure your inbred heathen compatriots see nothing wrong with it. But then, that is the way of your people, is it not? You give no care to who you bed.” Reginald sighed as though he were disappointed in the entire affair.
“Ye best watch yer tongue, old man,” Kieran almost spat the words out. Vivien looked between him and Reginald, taking note once more of the complete opposites between them. Reginald was a weak, spineless old man, where Kieran was a young, agile, powerfully masculine man in contrast to him. They could not have been any more different if they had tried, she thought.
“We are not here for threats, Reginald,” Vivien finally spoke up, letting Kieran’s hand go as she took a step towards her husband. Her confidence rippled through her – with Kieran at her side, there was nothing that anyone could do to her.
“Then what are you here for?” Reginald asked, almost lazily, as he sipped his wine and finally stood up slowly.
Vivien knew it was an act; she could see it in his eyes. Reginald was terrified – he knew his very life was in danger and that he was completely at Kieran’s mercy. He was only foolish enough to threaten him because he could not let his own ego and pride go. He had to fall into the trap of constantly besting his opponents. He could not accede when it was time to bow out gracefully.
It was one of his biggest faults.
“We are here to make a bargain with you,” she replied, stiffening her spine as she stared him down, “You must realize there is no escaping this for you. You have no choice but to deal with us. I urge you, listen and accept the deal.”
“I will do you the favor of listening,” Reginald replied, trying to inject disdain into his tone, but failing miserably. All Vivien could hear was the sound of a frightened boy in his voice.
“Good,” Kieran said from behind her.
“Leave,” Vivien said, shrugging slightly.
“What?” Reginald narrowed his eyes at her, confusion and fear reflecting in the firelight.
“Leave,” she repeated, “Leave Scotland, and do not come back.”
“Why would I do that?”
“If your life means a damn thing to you, Reginald, you will leave this place and never come back,” Vivien said, enforcing her words with all of the strength she possibly could.
“And if I do, what then?” he asked, spite dripping off each word.
“Ye will leave with yer life,” Kieran said matter-of-factly.
“You leave, and I stay here. You never return; you do not come looking for me. You file for a divorce when you return to England, and you leave me alone for the rest of my days. That is the only way you are going to get out of here,” Vivien said, her voice steady and stoic as she stared down the man she had once feared above all else.
“That is the only way you will let me leave?” Reginald asked, a slight tremble in his voice that he tried to cover up with a cough. Reginald held up a finger as he drank deeply from his wine glass. “Throat tickle,” he said sardonically, as he placed the glass on the table behind him.
“Yes,” Vivien said flatly.
“And how do I know you will not follow me? Or try to have me killed as I leave this place?”
“You have my word,” Vivien replied, “That is all you are going to get out of me. I think it is best you take the offer, Reginald. It is that, or you take your chances trying to escape this place.”
Vivien had not noticed that Reginald was shuffling closer to her until it was too late.
His arms darted out faster than she could comprehend, grabbing her around the waist and throat as he pulled her towards him, placing her in front of him like a body shield.
Vivien gasped in fright as a dagger appeared in Reginald’s hand, the blade pressed against her throat.
Kieran’s eyes widened as he moved into a fighting stance, his blade drawn and his expression grim.
“It does not need tae end this way, Reginald,” he said, his voice trembling audibly.
“But I think it does, Laird Kieran,” Reginald hissed, spittle flying into Vivien’s ear.
She tried to struggle against him, but his grip was vicelike on her neck and waist. The edge of his dagger dug into her throat, drawing blood. Vivien winced at the pain, her eyes imploring Kieran to help her. His eyes answered hers; he would do everything in his power to save her. he would not let her down.
“Reginald,” Vivien said softly, trying to distract him enough so that Kieran could find an opening to wound the man.
“Shhh, Vivien,” Reginald shushed her, “I think you have said quite enough already. Why don’t you let the men figure this one out for a change? You really ought to learn where your place is, woman.”
