The man moved behind her, removing the twine around her hands, only to tie her right hand to the right armrest.
“What are ye doin’?” she demanded, remembering at once that she was still a captive. She shifted violently, rattling the wooden chair against the stone floors as she waved her free hand about.
“Enough,” MacFaris said, his voice remaining infuriatingly calm. “This serves no purpose.”
His man caught her other hand and tied it to the chair. The rope bit into her skin harder than the first.
“Please,” she said, hating the desperation in her voice. “Whatever quarrel ye have with the Laird, I?—”
The man tightened the strip of cloth around her mouth, muffling her words before she had even finished speaking. The fabric tasted of sweat and something bitter, and her eyes burned with furious, helpless tears.
“Aye,” MacFaris said, his satisfaction evident in his tone, then took a few steps away from her. “Find someone to deliver this message to Hallow,” he instructed the younger man, his voice hardening. “Tell him precisely this. I hold his betrothed. If he signs over his lands, she returns to him unharmed.” He paused.“And if he refuses…” he trailed off, almost lazily. “She dies, and war follows. He may choose which outcome he prefers.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Aaron’s thoughts refused to settle.
His gaze drifted repeatedly toward Edith’s empty seat as he stood with his arms folded, half-listening to Robert’s account of a recent skirmish on the border.
What could possibly be keeping her this long?
Edith had left Scarlett’s side about half an hour ago, and yet there was no trace of her anywhere. He knew because he had swept his gaze over the crowd three times now.
He excused himself from the men, crossing to the shaded area where Scarlett still sat.
“Where is she?” he asked, his voice sharper than he had intended.
Scarlett glanced up. “Edith?”
“Aye. She has been gone for too long.”
Scarlett sighed, and only then did he notice the somber expression on her face. His brows knitted together.
“She went to get some water,” she said, her gaze wavering slightly as though there were something she did not want to say.
Aaron leaned closer to her. He watched her without saying a word, and she shifted in her seat, holding out for only a moment before she cracked.
“Aaron.” Her voice carried a note of hesitation. “She only needed air. Surely she’ll be back soon.”
“Air?” Aaron straightened.
It doesnae make sense.
He turned around, and Scarlett’s hand shot out, catching his sleeve.
“Wait.” Her voice rose slightly as she sat up. She cleared her throat, adjusting her posture under the watchful eyes of the councilmen nearby. “I suppose…” She hesitated briefly. “It will be better if I find her.”
Aaron swallowed, his gaze flitting across his sister’s face. Too many eyes were watching them now. If he left the festival to look for Edith, it might spark rumors about their betrothal. Not that he cared.
He stepped back reluctantly, his gaze lingering on Scarlett’s face.
“Find her,” he said.
She nodded. “Aye. I will.”
Before he could move away, a hand brushed slightly against him from behind, almost like a tap. He turned around sharply to find a young lad at his elbow.
The lad looked no older than sixteen or seventeen, his face pale beneath a layer of dust. His eyes were wide and terrified, and his lips trembled.
