“Cut her throat,” one suggested. “End the laird’s madness…”
Instinctively, Alex unsheathed his curved sword and dashed through the crowd, trying to reach Keely before anyone hurt her. But before he could get to her, someone had already shoved her out the door.
Chapter Five
Three strangers trappedKeely between them and forced her outside. One of the men stopped her, and started to bind her hands with a length of rope he yanked from around his waist.
“Nay!” Keely twisted her hands free. “Let me go!”
But the other two men quickly gripped her upper arms, forcing her hands in front of her again.
The women in the courtyard stopped sorting the fruit and vegetables or washing their clothes, and even the men abandoned their horses and joined her captors, rallying around them, happy to condemn Keely to Hades. With her hands tied together, she couldn’t defend herself against someone who threw a piece of fruit at her. She was hurried to a far corner where a platform stood. She recognized the place from when she used to live here. Whenever the laird wished to publicly punish an offender, he was taken to the stage, tied to the post, and either whipped or executed.
“Climb the stairs,” one of the men holding her commanded, “Or I’ll drag ye up.”
Eyeing the stage, she struggled to get away, but was quickly shoved forward. She stumbled and fell to her knees.
“Try to escape again and I’ll take what dignity ye have left.”
“Do ye know who I am?” she asked the dark-haired man who dared to mishandle her.
“Aye.” He spat on the ground. “Lady Keely Oliphant, the daughter of the laird himself. But yer title makes no difference to us. Ye are the reason Laird John refused to marry, again, or even sire a bastard. And ye’re now the reason Alex MacKay refuses to accept his responsibility as the new laird.”
Lifted to her feet, Keely had no choice but to amble up the wooden stairs. As she turned around to face the growing throng, a rock hit her in the arm, another on the chest. She swallowed the pain down, raising her chin defiantly. She’d not give them the satisfaction of knowing how she really felt—that deep inside she’d known this moment was coming.
Clan MacKay might not be the wealthiest, but their pride and fierce loyalty was known throughout the Highlands, making them a well sought-after ally. That Alex’s people would wish her dead after all these years came as no surprise. Another rock barely missed her face. Her heart skittered. Where were Alex and the captains of the guard? Surely this violence wasn’t sanctioned by the council or anyone else in power. She searched the back of the crowd, hoping to find someone to help her.
“On yer knees, harlot.” The dark-haired man forced her down. “Our laird is dead. Justice is left to us…”
“Whip her good, Angus,” several people howled in unison.
“This woman promised herself to one brother, and then married the other,” Angus continued, only to be drowned out by more angry calls.
“Whore!” a woman spat.
“Sutherland spy!” a group of men called.
“Kill her. Blood for blood!”
Keely bowed her head, fear slowly overwhelming her sense of control. Why had she been so foolish and left the safety of Dunrobin Castle? At least the Earl of Sutherland, his sons, and Helen, the earl’s only daughter, treated her as family. She’d lacked for nothing… except freedom. That thought forced her to look up again, into the faces of the people so quick to punish her.
“Confess yer sins, woman, and I might be convinced to show mercy.”
“What sins?” Keely asked. “Those of a confused, young lass?”
Angus raised his hand and slapped her hard across the face. The sting brought tears to Keely’s eyes. “What say ye now?”
“Violence will change nothing,” Keely stated resolutely. Only Father Michael and God had the right to judge her—maybe Alex—for it was his heart she’d broken. But not…
A knife sailed past Keely’s cheek. Thrown from the side of the platform, the weapon landed deep in Angus’s chest. Keely screamed as her captor faltered, blood seeping from the wound.
“The next man or woman to raise a hand against Keely Oliphant will feel the bite of my blade, too.”
It was Alex, in all his rage and glory. He climbed onto the stage, taller and stronger than the other two men who had taken her outside.
“This is the way ye treat the daughter of an old friend—a noblewoman?”
Fear reached the men’s eyes as they dropped to their knees, groveling before Alex—the way they’d expected her to do when threatened with death.
