Page 137 of Tales of Highland Loyalty

"Well, I dinnae ken where's she's gone," said the laird shortly.

Now William noted the signs of some genuine feeling. William felt his stomach twist.

The laird turned on him sharply. "What have ye done to make her leave?"

William narrowed his eyes. "What makes ye say she's left?"

The laird huffed and puffed some more. He stomped around in a semicircle before answering him. "Och, 'tis obvious the wee mare has got cold feet."

William thought back to the Nora of the previous night. She looked anything back cold, then.

Witheringly, he looked at the laird. "Ye sure ye didnae upset her yerself in some way?" he asked, then his eyes followed him across the bedchamber as the laird shied away.

"Me? Upset her? Whoever told ye that?" he said, but his eyes darted everywhere, refusing to connect with him.

William knew then that it was true.

"Sorcha," said William, glancing at her.

The gray lady almost shrank into the woodwork, fading under Douglas's glow. For just a moment, William felt bad for her. Then, he hardened. He had to find out what had happened to her.

"Aye," said William. "She told me everything. So ye may as well as admit it."

It was a calculated risk. A deep silence opened in the room. William was not affected. All he cared about was finding Nora. If that meant bluffing, then he would. It worked. In a tic, the laird's face changed. Now he was pale and sick.

"Everything?"

"William!" Fiona screamed, as William lifted the laird up against the wall. There, he rammed him hard, almost bashing his head.

"Sir," murmured Alasdair, but he had his sgian dubh ready to cover him.

William nodded to Alasdair, who had his back. Circling the stunned laird, he brought his silver dagger toward his face.

"Tell me," he hissed.

Suddenly, all the game playing was stripped away. William glared at the arrogant laird. He threw Laird Douglas against the wall again for good measure as Fiona wailed. Beside him, Sorcha turned white.

"I'll kill ye," swore the raging laird. He fixed Sorcha with his bloodshot eyes. Sorcha shrunk backward. Fiona held on to the terrified Sorcha as William exchanged glances with his sister.

"Ye're safe here," Fiona murmured to the shaking woman.

Meanwhile, William kept the pressure up on Douglas. "Tell me!" he snarled to the laird.

Finally, the laird's patience snapped. "Och, dinnae fash, lad. The wee whore hasnae the nerve to go through wi' the plan. Ye're safe..."

Douglas eyed William strangely, then glanced away. William did not miss a beat.

"The plan?" he asked.

All of them gazed at the laird. Sorcha clasped her hand in front of her mouth and looked as if she was going to be sick.

"Noo wonder she fought ye!" she gasped, her gray eyes glassy with tears.

Now the laird looked at her, bewildered. "But I thought ye, I thought ye kent," he began, looking at Sorcha.

"Och, ye lying bawbag," William snarled.

His lip curled in disgust. Realizing he had been had, Douglas made for William's head. But before he could get there, Alasdair leaped in, pinning him back against the wall. Now, the pair of them had secured him as guards rushed to the door.