He remembered nothing.Did not recall that one night together or the way he’d insisted he’d win her heart one day.Logan was not the same man she had once known.And Gillean...She fisted the blanket in one hand.Gillean had lied to him.To what end though?Some twisted sense of revenge mayhap.After all, she had helped his rich bride escape.
And Logan had always been a fine leader.It was why she had come to trust him.Once her husband died, she gave Logan command of her men and he had never failed her.Gillean had likely recognised such qualities and, with his warring ways, such a man could only be an asset.
Slipping one leg out of the blankets, then the other, she put her feet to the floor and scooted forward.Her legs trembled.The malady had stolen her strength.She shoved aside the curtains and debated the platter of bread and cheese on the table, but time was scarce.Lorna had to escape, and fast.
That did not mean she would not return with an army for Logan though.If she had to have him put in irons and dragged back to Glencolum she would.She would not leave him again.
A hand to the bedpost, she rose up and drew in a long breath.Lord, she had never felt so helpless in her life, except mayhap when she had heard tell of Logan’s death.But the knowledge of her babe growing inside her had given her strength.That same reason would have to feed her strength now.Her son awaited her and he deserved to know his father, but whether Logan would ever accept him or not, she did not know.
Padding across the wooden floorboards, she eased open a shutter and peered out into the night.Torches lit the walls and the defences were well guarded with the few men that were present.No doubt Gillean had expected Glencolum to retaliate after the battle but they could ill afford the losses.Her cousin’s clan had been recovering from years of war with a neighbouring clan.Could she ask them to fight again?
Lorna studied the wall and counted the number of men.Wherever Gillean was, he had likely taken men with him.The journey to her cousin’s keep was a mere day.With Gillean’s forces depleted, there was no better time to strike.Her revenge—a need that still burned brightly thanks to Gillean’s lies—would have to wait.If she had to crawl to Glencolum, she would, and would summon an army to rid the Highlands of Laird Gillean’s threat, once and for all.
Heart thudding in her ears, she tiptoed over to the door and pressed her ear to it.The wood was thick, yet rumbling snores penetrated it.She allowed herself a smile.It seemed her guards had fallen asleep on duty.At least, she hoped so.
Twisting the handle, she grimaced as the iron creaked.When no one tried to prevent her, she eased open the door and peered out.Only a few torches lit the narrow wooden walkway that spanned the top of the Great Hall and either side of the door, as she had predicted, were two snoring men, their mouths open and their swords dropped carelessly to the side.
Lorna debated taking one of the weapons—she had some experience with swords—but she suspected they would only hinder her escape.As it was, she did not know if she would be able to sneak out the way she entered.
Lifting her chemise, she edged along the balcony and peered below to see several servants sleeping on straw pallets on the floor.Their snores and mumbles echoed throughout the vast space.Sneaking past would be no easy feat, but what other choice did she have?
A prickle skimmed her spine as she paced forward.
“Where are ye off to?”
She whirled, her chemise dancing around her legs and her heart jammed in her throat.Logan appeared from the staircase at the end of the balcony, stepping out of the gloom with his arms folded and his brow furrowed.Lorna swallowed.
“Ye cannae keep me here,” she hissed, wary of waking the guards and having more than Logan to contend with.
“Ye’ll no’ outrun me.”
He was right.But she had to try.He took a step forward and she bolted.Logan cursed and the sound must have roused someone, as she heard another rough curse and several sets of heavy footsteps behind her.
A hand curled around her arm, fairly burning through the linen.She squealed and flailed against Logan’s hold.He spun her so she landed flat against his chest.In the torchlight, his expression grew menacing.The shadows and dip of his brow appeared deeper.Her chest tightened in response and it occurred to her how far removed from the man she had known he was.Were her plans to rescue him and return him home simply folly?
Lorna jerked away but was no match for his strength.Logan had always been one of the most powerful men she knew, with wide shoulders and thick arms.It seemed even injury had not diminished him.
“Let me go,” she begged.“Ye cannae keep me here.I am of no use to ye.”
Behind him, the two guards straightened and grasped their swords.Steel glinted with golden flames.
The torches.She had no weapons but...
Wriggling in his hold, she forced Logan to stumble back, and freeing a hand, she swiped a torch from the wall.It fell with a clatter and sputtered before flaring across the light dusting of reeds that she knew always lingered.When this had been her keep, reeds were always traipsed up the stairs from the hall and Gillean’s staff was not so efficient.
She grinned triumphantly as the flames grew and danced their way across the floor toward the guards.They stomped on the fire but to no avail.The wood had already caught.A cry went up from someone but Lorna could not be sure who.Preoccupied with fighting Logan’s hold, as he too fought to keep hold of her and put out the flames with his boot, smoke quickly filled her lungs and seared her eyes.
“Damnation.”Logan released her and she slipped away, victory beating in her chest.But it was for nothing.Several men raced up the stairs with buckets of water and blocked her escape.
Strong hands grabbed her once again and she thought he meant to fling her into the flames for a moment.Instead he pressed her against the wall, shielded her from the encroaching flames and allowed the men with buckets past.It did not take much water to put out the fire that had only scorched the floor and damaged the intricate banisters.Lorna recalled commissioning that woodwork and eyed it sorrowfully as she peered around Logan.
He kept her pinned until everyone had dispersed and he whipped his head around to glare at the two guards.“Go to the guard room and get some sleep.Ye’ll need it as ye’ll be paying dearly for yer idleness on the morrow.”
Heads lowered, the men slunk past.
“I’ll be watching ye tonight, my lady.Dinnae think ye’ll be able to slip past me so easily.”
She stared up at him, acutely aware of his muscled chest pressing into hers.She did not know what he had been doing in the stairwell but he appeared tired, as though he had been unable to sleep.Did some part of him remember her?Could she dare hope there was still a possibility she could persuade him to come with her?
