Chapter One
A dribble of cold water trailed down Lorna’s spine and she shuddered.Wrinkling her nose, she fought to ignore the odour of damp rock and death.The metallic scent might have had more to do with the iron currently clamped around her wrists but its similarity to the smell of blood wasn’t lost on her.
She closed her eyes and leaned back against the hard rock.How many days had she been down here?Two?Three?More?When this had been her castle, the lower donjon had never been used.How many people had Laird Gillean held down here since she’d escaped his clutches after he tried to kill her?How many people haddieddown here?Knowing the man who was once a brother by marriage—many.
Would she be one?Lorna kicked a rat as it scurried over her foot and cringed when it squeaked.The men-at-arms who had captured her had said Gillean would not return for a sennight.Hopefully that would give her time to escape before his homecoming.Though from the way she was shackled and dumped in the almost pitch black room, it seemed unlikely anyone would give her any respite from her confines.Kilcree had changed much since she had been lady of the keep.
The groan of hinges rattled her head, and she squinted into the darkness as a flash of daylight dribbled down the stairs.Hope burst in her chest but vanished with the sunlight as the door slammed shut.Footsteps sounded and she forced herself to breathe slowly while her heart echoed each thud.
Those footsteps came to a stop a few paces from her.In the gloom, she could make out the vaguest outline.A man.Tall, wide-shouldered.The smell of soap broke the stifling air.Lorna straightened as best as she could with her hands bound in front of her by the heavy, rusting iron.Her wrists panged in protest.No doubt the skin would be raw underneath the metal.
“Why are ye here?”
His voice made her jump.Rough and low—almost a growl—it grated her senses.
She raised her chin and peered at the outline of his head.“Why are ye holding me?I havenae done anything wrong.”
The man let out a gruff laugh.“Ye were found sneaking around the laird’s chambers.”
“I wasnaesneaking.And I hardly think visiting the castle which used to be my home is punishable by imprisonment.”She perfected her most authoritative voice—one that had worked for many years on the men under her command.“Ye know I am Lady Lorna, do ye not?”
“I do.”
“Then release me.”
He crouched, startling her.Why give up an imposing stance?She never would have done so had the roles been reversed, but knowing he was that bit closer sent a shiver through her.Who was this man?She’d known most of Gillean’s men.He had to be new.Since Gillean’s men had killed Logan, Kilcree had no one in command.A mercenary perhaps.A grizzled, scarred image of a man sprang to mind.
“I cannae release ye.Ye were trespassing where ye were no’ welcome.The laird shall want to deal with ye when he returns.”
“The laird shall likely kill me, but I suppose ye care not.”
The silence that hung between them made her heart thud.Something about his voice teased her memories but she would remember such a voice, surely?His breaths whispered harshly in the air, as if he struggled to draw them in.
“I suppose ye dinnae care that ye work for an ungodly man,” she continued.Would it even be possible to guilt this stranger into releasing her?
“God has no place in these walls.”She heard his smirk.
“When they were my walls, He did.”
“Much has changed this past year, Lady Lorna.Ye were much mistaken coming here.Ye should have stayed at Glencolum.Kilcree is no place for a lady.”
Lorna narrowed her eyes into the darkness.“Ye seem to know much about me.”
“Many know of ye, my lady.Yer men were responsible for killing many of Gillean’s.The laird has kept a close eye on ye since.”
She snorted.And she had been doing the same to him.Watching and waiting for the moment to strike.Her son was old enough to be left with the nursemaid, and Gillean had scaled down his defences when the clan at Glencolum showed no signs of retaliation for attempting to kill one of their kin and her brother’s wife.Foolishly, she’d thought it would be easy enough to slip into Kilcree and kill Gillean in his sleep.Lorna clenched a hand around the iron holding her captive.
She would have saved Scotland from the plotting of Gillean.She did not know what he had planned, but he had used the past year to garner more land and loyalty.It left her in no doubt he would eventually strike Glencolum and the rest of her kin.The man she had once called brother was as ambitious as he was deadly.
But more importantly she would have avenged Logan’s death—her one time lover.
And the man she loved.She gulped and fought the memories of how she’d treated him.If she hadn’t constantly refused him, would things have been different?Would he still be alive today?She had said goodbye to many men—her father, her first husband—but she grieved little for any of them.Her marriage had been by arrangement and she barely knew her father.Logan’s death, however, had left an ache in her heart that would never be filled.Even her darling son only eased it somewhat.
Revenge.That would make her whole again.
“Ye have nothing to say, my lady?”the man pressed.
“Not to ye,” she spat.
