Page 9 of Taken By the Exiled Laird

"I didnae at first. It was yer expression when he turned away from ye—I'd seen it before, and I'll never forget it," Graeme replied as he straightened up. He moved behind the tree to tighten the rope that held her in place.

Briana sat there, struck dumb for the first time. Her mind was racing with confused, conflicting thoughts. How could Graeme speak so kindly of the past while treating her like a prisoner in the present? How could Theon treat her so roughly when he'd spent so long in her dreams? How could she have woken that morning on the way to her wedding and now be ending the night tied to a tree in a hidden world?

Graeme came back around to the front and crouched down so that their eyes were level. "Miss Cameron. Briana. Let me give ye some advice."

"I dinnae want any advice from ye," she said, but the fight had gone out of her. She slumped against the tree, suddenly exhausted.

"Ye'll have it anyway," Graeme replied. He paused, considering his words, then said, "Listen. If ye intend tae survive this, then hold yer tongue."

"And if I dinnae?" she challenged.

Graeme smiled, though he looked almost sad as he did. "Then at least it will be over quickly. Sleep as well as ye can, Briana. We'll see what the mornin' brings."

He walked away, not turning back again. She watched him go until he disappeared around a corner back toward the cabins, then waited until she heard his door opening and then closing behind him. Only then, only when she was alone, did she allow herself to cry.

Chapter Four

Fourteen-year-old Briana stared.

Her eyes were wide as her maid, Anna, tried to pull her away. Anna was two years older than Briana, and despite the difference in their apparent status, her best friend. Briana usually listened to Anna's sixteen-year-old wisdom, but today things were different. Today, she couldn't drag her eyes away.

"Briana, if yer father catches ye eavesdroppin' in here…" Anna hissed.

"A moment!" Briana half-insisted, half-begged.

She and Anna were hidden behind the curtain that separated one of the secret passageways into the Cameron Grand Hall from the rest of the room. She was peering through the gap, fascinated by the stranger who stood before her father now. From all she'd heard about the MacKenzies, she'd expected the heir to be rough, even stupid, but the young man who spoke now was eloquent, clean-cut, and far too easy on the eye.

"Me Father values our alliance above all, Laird Cameron," Theon MacKenzie said earnestly. He bowed his head slightly, though supplication did not suit him. Briana thought he looked like a prince, not a common laird's heir—tall, dark, handsome, and with storm-gray eyes that, when he glanced toward the curtain, she knew she'd never forget. "He sent me with these gifts tae remind ye of our dedication tae the good fortune of our clans united."

Briana's father replied with something that she could not hear, and a muscle in Theon's jaw twitched, but otherwise he did not react. He bowed his head again and turned to go.

"Briana!" Anna insisted again.

"I'm comin', I'm comin'," she grumbled.

She turned to follow Anna back down the passageway but gasped as her heel caught in a loose stone on the floor and she stumbled. She tried to right herself but overcorrected and fell backward.

"Oh!"

It was too late to stop herself. She grabbed at the curtain, desperate to prevent injury, but still landed hard on her back on the stone floor and cried out in pain, the sound echoing like a death knell around the suddenly silent chamber.

She saw Anna, wide-eyed, start forward, but she urgently shook her head, warning her to stay hidden. She was already doomed, but there was no need to see the maid punished as well. Best that only one of them face her father's wrath.

Strong hands wrapped around her arms and, with surprising gentleness, helped her to her feet. Briana brushed herself down, burning from embarrassment, and turned to thank the servant who had helped her. Her embarrassment grew tenfold when she saw that it wasn't a servant at all—it was the MacKenzie heir, watching her with curiosity. Her words died on her lips and she stammered before abandoning the attempt to speak.

"Are ye all right, miss? Ye didnae hit yer head, did ye?" Theon asked.

Briana's young heart pounded at the direct address. He was so strong and handsome, and though she knew the MacKenzies were a suspicious lot despite the alliance, he sounded… kind. Something about his voice made her stomach lurch with a strange pain that was almost enjoyable.

"I…"

"Briana." Her father's cold, foreboding voice dropped like a hammer on the moment, shattering the warmth that had surged through her. "You were eavesdropping."

She didn't try to deny it. She'd long since learned that it would not delay her punishment—in fact, it would only make it worse. Bowing her head, she folded her hands in front of herself and said in a contrite voice, "Forgive me, Father."

"Father?" Theon asked, his voice rising slightly in surprise at the end. He stepped back from Briana, looking back and forth between her and the Laird. "This is yer daughter?"

Laird Cameron nodded, though his expression looked as though he was reluctant to admit it. "Aye. This is me youngest child, Briana. Ye'll forgive her trespass, I hope. She isnae blessed with brains or grace, but she has time tae grow, and she's bonny enough she'll make a fine wife tae someone one day. Ye ken how women are."