A clever enough man might see through the ruse I am planning, he thought to himself as he twisted and knotted the sheets together into a crude length of climbing rope.Then again, a clever man would likely not be employed as a guard in this place, would he?
He hoped not.
Brodie tied one end of the rope to the bedpost, carried the other end to the window, then kicked through the glass and tossed the “rope” out. He heard the guards stir outside the door and the turn of the key in the lock. He scurried to the space behind the door just as it swung open, shielding him from the eyes of the guards as they rushed to the window. Both were still carrying the marks of their previous brawl with Brodie.
“The fool must have jumped!” the first guard said.
“Look down, look down!” the second guard insisted. “Do you see his body below? Seamus will want us to be sure he is dead before making our report! Now, where is he? Point him out to me!”
Brodie emerged from behind the door, smoothly picking up the chamber pot from the floor as he advanced on them. “Right here, lads,” he said.
The first guard turned just in time to have the pot shattered against his face. He fell back against the wall, stunned, then slid down to the floor, losing consciousness.
A fine attack, but he had used up the element of surprise on his first target, and the second was all too ready to stand his ground and fight back.
First things first,Brodie decided.He must not be allowed to sound an alarm and call for reinforcements.
Brodie used the last split second of his advantage to grab one of the pillows from the bed. He lunged forward before the man had a chance to yell for help, pushing the pillow to the guard’s face to muffle his voice.
Then he began to punch the pillow, over and over and over again, until a bloodstain soaked through it, and the guard sagged to the floor senselessly next to his fallen comrade.
The first part of his plan having been successfully executed, Brodie considered what came next.
The guest chambers shared by Maxwell and Magnus are just down the hall, he thought.They will have guards posted outside their door as well. Those men would not have left their post to investigate the doings in this room…unless they see me emerge, in which case, they will doubtless give pursuit. Even so, that door is my only way out of here, so such a chase is inevitable.
Brodie’s ribs were still in anguish. The fight with the two guards, albeit brief and decisive, had made the pain even worse. He doubted that he would be able to run at anything resembling his top speed, whereas the guards would be able to move far more rapidly than he could.
Not only that, but those men knew the layout of the castle far better than he did. There was every chance that in blindly trying to reach the courtyard from the tower, he could blunder into any number of dead ends or dangerous corridors.
But none of that mattered.
This was his one and only chance to escape his confinement before it was too late, to tell Isla what he and Margaret had learned about the servant girl who had planted the blood in her bed, to put an end to this madness before it went too far and doomed them both to a failed marriage.
He had to try, no matter the risks. He could not allow Seamus to march them both up the aisle like prisoners whose fates had been sealed.
Time was running out. He had to act. Now.
He put his hand on the door’s handle, took a deep breath, said a silent prayer, and burst out into the hallway, running toward the stone steps as quickly as his legs could carry him and trying to ignore the commotion of the guards who gave chase behind him.
He had a corridor’s length of a head start on his side, and he was a man fighting for the love of his life.
He desperately hoped that would be enough to ensure that he would prevail.
As Brodie was making his courageous escape, Ainsley was putting the finishing touches on Isla’s hair and gown. When Isla examined herself in the looking glass, she had to admit that she looked lovely. She only wished it were a happier occasion, one that might end with her exchanging vows with the man she genuinely adored instead of the one she had been tricked into marrying.
But when she went down to the courtyard and saw Seamus greeting the guests warmly and helping them find their seats, the last rays of hope left her.
It was far too late. There was nothing left to do but steel herself and get it over with.
Perhaps, as the years pass, I will somehow simply grow to love Brodie, she thought mournfully.People whose marriages have been arranged for them have often found this to be the case, have they not? Unless, of course, those are simply falsehoods parents tell their offspring so that when the time comes, they will go through with their own forced weddings without complaint.
She had a sinking feeling that this was probably the case.
Before she could slink back into the vestibule and await the wedding march that would spell her certain doom, Isla saw Malcolm MacLeod stride into the courtyard, accompanied by Morna. Many of the guests and servants reacted with shock and confusion at the sight of them together, and why not? The healer had not set foot within the castle walls in almost two decades, and now here she was, on the arm of the laird himself.
So she was able to reach him and tell him of our situation, Isla marveled.Amazing that she was able to be within the castle for so long while escaping detection. And from the disturbed expression on Malcolm’s face, it seems as though she might have been able to enlist his aid. But what will he do to fix this situation? What can he do, given the circumstances? True, he is laird of the clan, but Seamus is my father, and the decision regarding who I should marry is his by right.
Still, she allowed the dimmest ember of hope to flicker within her once more. Perhaps her fate was not sealed after all.
