Page 9 of Fire in his Highland Heart

“Arguen, the only reason she hasn’t come down here and slit yer throat herself is because Laird Morgan has made it clear that if anyone harms ye, they’ll have tae answer tae him. Every day ye stay locked here in this dungeon grows more dangerous. Marianne, Robert, other guards, other servants... they’re all restless. They’re lookin’ fer any excuse tae harm ye.”

She weighed her options in her mind. Neither one was very desirable. Stay here and risk being killed by Marianne out of spite? Or venture into the woods, possibly encounter a real wild boar, and be gored to death? Even if she did make it to Laird Blake’s castle, there was no telling what the reception would be like. What if they hated her even more? What if she was simply jumping out of the frying pan into a blazing fire?

“Why would Laird Blake help me?” she asked.

Douglas heaved a sigh and ran his hand through his sandy blond hair. “He owes me a debt. I saved his life. We were ambushed by English soldiers. He was taken prisoner and nearly executed, but I organized a raid, and we were able tae free him. He promised then that whatever I needed; he would strive to provide. An’, well, I need his help now.”

Arguen knew that the bond between men on the battlefield was intense and emotional, and that promises made there were often kept. It was no small thing, but Douglas was asking an enormous favor. Hide a fugitive accused of witchcraft, in his village? Even he could be considered guilty for harboring an enemy.

“How d’ye ken he’ll agree?”

“He has to. I’ve never asked him for anythin’ else. He owes me.”

Arguen licked her lips nervously. “’Twill be risky,” she said slowly.

“Aye. But ‘tis a risk I’ll take if it means keepin’ the only family I have left.”

At that moment, it hit her. Obviously, Douglas was doing this to protect her, because he was a good brother, but she hadn’t considered his loneliness until now. They truly were the only blood family they had left. Staying together was survival for both of them.

“I’ll do it,” Arguen said quickly.

Douglas raised an eyebrow. “Quick decision.”

“If there’s a chance I may die, I’d rather die free, of me own will, than at the hands of some English bitch.”

Her brother chuckled. “Havenae heard ye curse ‘afore.”

“Thought ‘twas warranted.”

Douglas gathered the lantern and stood up, helping Arguen up with him through the bars.

“As soon as I hear from Laird Blake, I’ll tell ye. ‘Til then, I’ll gather supplies. You’ll have tae go on foot most likely.”

Arguen nodded vigorously. “Douglas, I dinnae wanna die here,” she cried in a sudden burst of emotion.

He held her hand tenderly. “I ken, Arguen. I willnae let it happen.”

With one last goodbye, he left the dungeon, taking the light with him. Once again, she was left alone in the darkness.

Chapter Four

Marianne heaved a frustrated sigh as her husband rolled off her and lay on his side next to her, chest heaving.

“Ye’re a bonnie lass, ye know that?” Malcolm murmured, reaching over to cup her face and kiss her.

Marianne turned her head, so he kissed her cheek instead. “You Scots have an odd way of complimenting women.”

“D’ye not like being called bonnie?” he asked, a playful edge to his tone. He always tried to keep this playful edge around his wife, as if attempting to soften her icy exterior.

“Did you ever call Arguen bonnie?”

Malcom sighed and rolled over so that he was laying on his back. “’Tis an expression tae mean ye think a lass is pretty.”

“So it means nothing when you say it to me?” Marianne probed.

“Marianne, wha’re ye doin? Ye ken I’m faithful tae ye.”

“But you still think about her.”