“Ye have the copies,” Elayne said in a pleading tone. “Let us go, faither. Please. Ye will never see us again.”
Dunn didn’t need to hear Laird Macgillivray’s reply to know the man would never let them go. He didn’t care about Elayne and he certainly didn’t care about Dunn. By the end of this, at least one of them would be dead—and it wouldn’t be Elayne.
Dunn dragged his gaze to the others in the room. Laird Macgillivray stood at the far end along with Laird McCoy, which didn’t surprise Dunn. What did surprise him was that next to them stood Blaine, staring impassively at him and Elayne.
“Traitor,” Dunn grit out, teeth grinding in rage. “Was that yer plan all along? Tae pretend tae help us an’ report tae yer laird?”
Blaine gave a small shrug. “I’m the Captain o’ this clan,” he said. “What did ye expect? I have sworn tae protect it. Och, an’ dinnae try tae escape. I tied those knots meself.”
Instinctively, Dunn flexed his arms, testing the knots on the rope—only to find them loose, or at least looser than he had expected. With some effort, he could free himself, he was certain of it.
Did he dae it on purpose? Or is he so confident in his abilities that he hardly tried?
Dunn couldn’t tell. He had once thought he was good at reading people, but when it came to Blaine, he could never tell what theman was thinking. There was always a blankness about him, a neutrality Dunn couldn’t quite parse.
“If there is a traitor here, it’s me own daughter,” said Laird Macgillivray, contempt dripping from his words. “Ye were always a disappointment, Elayne, but I never thought ye would go as far as tae betray yer own faither. It would have been better had ye died in that loch.”
Dunn watched as Elayne physically recoiled, as though her father’s words were a blow. Dunn had never imagined that a parent could be so cruel to their child, so hateful. How could he wish his own daughter dead? How could he speak such words without a moment of hesitation, without a hint of regret?
“Dinnae dare speak tae her like this,” Dunn barked, his entire body going rigid with the effort to free himself as quickly as he could, eager to jump to his feet and drive the nearest blade through Laird Macgillivray’s heart. “Ye are a vile, weak man an’ I willnae allow ye tae treat Elayne like that anymore.”
“Ye willnaeallowme?” Laird Macgillivray asked, amused by the thinly veiled threat. “What will ye dae? Soon, ye’ll be dead an’ Elayne will spend the rest o’ her life in atonement fer what she’s done. Who will save her when yer gone an’ she’s married tae Laird McCoy?”
Dunn only clenched his jaw, saying nothing. What could he say to that? The only thing he could do now was to try and get out of those ropes as quickly as possible, but even so, the odds wereagainst him. With so many men in that small room, it would be a struggle to escape alive.
“Knife,” Laird McCoy demanded, holding out his hand. One of the men rushed to hand him a blade and Laird McCoy tested its weight in his hand as he approached Dunn. From the corner of his eye, Dunn saw Blaine tense up, his gaze falling to Dunn’s hands, which were still tied behind his back.
“I’d like tae end him meself.”
Laird McCoy approached Dunn slowly, taking his time—and without knowing it, giving Dunn time to free himself. Maybe if he could delay this, if he could get him to gloat, he would manage to get himself free. Next to him, Elayne choked on a sob, shaking her head vehemently.
“Stop,” she pleaded. “Faither, make him stop! Dunn an’ I, we never married! It was all a ruse, I swear! Let him go an’ I will wed McCoy, I promise ye!”
“Silence!” Laird Macgillivray’s voice thundered in the small confines of the room and Elayne snapped her mouth shut immediately, not daring to test her father’s patience. “Ye expect us tae believe ye when all ye dae is lie?”
“I’m nae lyin’ about this,” said Elayne quietly. “I promise.”
“It doesnae matter,” her father said with no hesitation. “It is done now. If naething else, Laird McCoy an’ I will have the pleasure o’ killin’ this pest.”
Just as Laird McCoy approached, Dunn finally felt the ropes slipping from his wrists and freed himself, springing up to his feet. Before McCoy could strike, Dunn slammed his arm against his, knocking the knife loose from his grip. Though a blade would have benefit him, he didn’t have time to look for it so he attacked regardless, this time with his fists, swinging them wildly as he tried to catch Dunn off-guard. Dunn barely had the time to move out of his path, Laird McCoy’s knuckles just grazing his jaw as he leaned back, before bringing forth an attack of his own. With a swift kick of his leg, Dunn had Laird McCoy pinned to the floor, pushing a knee on his chest as the man struggled, trying to get free.
In the sudden chaos, none of Laird Macgillivray’s men moved, too scared that the wrong decision would end Laird McCoy’s life. Laird Macgillivray didn’t seem to have the same concerns, though, as before Dunn could even incapacitate Laird McCoy, he felt the chill of a blade on the back of his neck.
One wrong move and he would be dead.
Laird McCoy scrambled away from Dunn, his gaze dripping hatred as their eyes met. Dunn raised his hands in surrender, standing slowly, the blade still pressed to his neck. How was he going to get out of this now?
“Blaine,” Laird Macgillivray called. “Are ye waitin’ fer orders? Kill him.”
“Nay!” Elayne screamed behind them just as Blaine approached slowly, unsheathing his sword. His movements were peculiar, Dunn noticed; slow, as if he was waiting for something. He could feel the impatient press of the blade on his neck, and suddenly, he was trapped between two blades with no hope of escape.
“Blaine—”
The door slammed open, banging against the wall before Dunn could even find the right words to say. In the chaos that followed, the only thing he managed to see was a blur of blonde hair and familiar faces, three blades swiftly striking down Laird Macgillivray’s men until the only ones standing were the two lairds and Blaine.
What are they doin’ here?
Dunn could hardly believe his own eyes. All three of his brothers were there, armed to the teeth, blood and sweat covering their skin and clothes. Though Laird Macgillivray’s blade had never left the back of his neck, Dunn held no more fear. His brothers were a force to be reckoned with, and with only the two lairds and the captain of the clan standing, there was little Laird Macgillivray could do as he waited for more troops to arrive.
