“Fine, I agree. Yer man’s life will be saved. But if I find he’s laid a hand on Emma—”
“He won’t have done it,” Flora said confidently. “I am sure of that.”
“Ye will come with us to this place, aye? So we can be sure ye are telling the truth?”
“I’ll show ye the way. It’s the McCade pub, but the lass is being held in a secret room beneath the pub. Ye won’t find it on yer own, but I can find it for ye.”
They glanced at each other.
“The McCade pub,” Tabitha said dryly. “We really ought to have guessed that, eh?”
Emma woke up to the worst pain in her head she’d ever experienced. Before she even opened her eyes, she had already started to reach for the small vial of powdered brimleaves—ideal for headaches—which she kept beside her bed.
Her hand slapped uselessly across the cold, gritty stone, and her eyes flew open. Memories surged back, and she felt bile rise in her throat.
I’m a prisoner.Lachlan has me.
Her stomach convulsed, and if there had been anything in it, she would have thrown it up.
She didn’t recognize the room she was in. It was a small, stone cell with no windows and a flight of stone stairs weaving up to a wooden door at the top. Not a chink of light came in, except for a few beams filtering through the ceiling. Her eyes gradually got adjusted to the gloom, and she realized that the ceiling above her head was the floor of the room above. She could see no movement, although she could hear sounds of chatter and laughter and the clink of glasses.
She wasn’t tied up, thankfully.
Emma shuffled back until she could lean against the damp wall, hugging her knees to her chest.
Just breathe.Stay calm.
The brass berries were still rattling around in her pocket, which meant that the poisonous yellowberries were likely still there, too. She had no inclination to reach for either, even though the brass berries would have soothed the growing ache in her stomach.
So would the yellowberries, actually. Just more permanently.
There was a series of strange squeaks and creaks, then the door opened. A figure appeared, silhouetted against the flickering glow of candlelight. Emma wondered what time it was.
“Comfy down there, are ye?” came Gregor’s voice, sending a chill through her. “I thought ye would never wake up. Thought I hit ye too hard.”
Emma forced herself to get to her feet, vainly scanning the bare room for something, anything she could use as a weapon. They hadn’t even brought her basket along.
Well, of course not, since it had a small trowel in it for digging out stubborn roots.
“Comfy enough. Are ye going to let me go, or did ye just come to chat?” Emma said, pleased at how steady her voice sounded.“It’s a pity ye cannot learn to pick on someone ye own size,Gregor.”
He sneered. “Better mind your manners, lass. I’ll be back.”
He slammed the door, thecrashreverberating through the room. Emma heard locks click into place and then the same squeaking, scraping noise as before. It seemed that the door was hidden, then. This must be a secret room.
So, to take stock,I don’t know where I am or how long I’ve been here. I’ve got no food, water, or weapons, and I’m hidden inside a secret room that perhaps only Gregor and probably Lachlan know how to get into.
She sank down to the floor again.
Wonderful.
“There it is. Ugly place, eh?” Dominic mumbled.
Thomas gave a brief nod, surveying the building. Even now, as the sun was setting, the place looked disgusting. Not even the idyllic golden glow of a sunset could make it beautiful.
He’d never visited McCade’s pub before. He knew of it, of course, but had no idea that Lachlan McCade seemed to believe that they wererivals.
A wee bit full of himself,thinking this old place could compete with the Sinner.
