Page 65 of A Bride for the Kilted Beast

When he reached the dungeons, he gestured to the turnkey to come and unlock the door of her cell. As the man fumbled for the key, Odhrán peered through the grille in the door. She was sitting with her back against a wall, her eyes closed, her face illuminated only by the light of a single, guttering candle.

“Maddison, ’tis me,” he called. She opened her eyes and, seeing him, she wearily got up approached the door. “Hurry up with that damned key, will ye, man?” he growled at the turnkey.

“Sorry, milord,” the man stuttered, finally finding the correct key with shaking fingers. It rattled as it entered the lock.

“What is it, Odhrán,” Maddison asked fearfully, staring at him from the gloom.

“’Tis all right, dinnae be scared,” he told her, anxious to reassure her. “Come on, I’m takin’ ye out of this place.”

“What fer?” she asked, backing away slightly as the door swung open. He could hear the fear still in her voice.

“Yer braither’s here tae take ye home,” he said. “Come on, we have tae hurry. There’s nae much time.”

But she did not move, only shook her head. “I dinnae believe ye,” she said, her voice shaking.

“What?!” he said, bewildered, having expected her to rush out of her cell.

“I dinnae believe ye. Me braither’s nae here,” she said, her eyes wide and fearful. “’Tis the laird. He’s gonnae kill me finally.” She backed away toward the far wall.

“Nay! I’ve told ye, I’d never let him hurt ye. I’d never let anyone hurt ye. Please, I’m nae lyin’, yer brother Diarmaid is waitin’ fer ye in the castle,” he urged her.

“Ye’re tellin’ me the truth?”

“I swear on me maither’s life,” he said, growing increasingly anxious as the moments passed. What would he do if she refused to believe him? Carry her out bodily?

She was silent for a while, then she suddenly seemed to decide to go with him.

“I dinnae care anymore whether ye’re lyin’ or nae. If the laird wants tae kill me, at least I’ll be free of this place,” she said with a fatalism that tore at his heart.

“Ye’re going home, I promise ye, but ye have tae hurry.”

Finally, she came out of the cell, and he took hold of her arm gently, guiding her up the steps. When he pushed open the door at the top and the light poured in, Maddison cried out and covered her eyes with her other arm.

“Ach, ’tis blindin’!”

“I ken, I’m sorry, I didnae think of that,” he apologized. “Let’s get inside, it willnae be so bad in there,” he told her, propelling her forward by her arm. It was thin and so fragile he feared he might break it by accident if he pulled her too hard.

Finally, he got her into the keep.

“Is that better fer yer eyes?” he asked as she lowered her arm and, with half-closed eyes, looked around her.

“Aye, a bit,” she said. “Where’s Diarmaid?”

“This way,” he replied, forced to guide her along the hallways at her own slow pace. Inside, he wanted to run to the study, praying his father had not provoked Kincaid into violence, in which case, all could be lost. His heart was thudding in his chest like a blacksmith’s hammer on an anvil, so loudly, he was sure she must be able to hear it.

When the eventually got to the study, it was with a mixture of relief and trepidation that he slowly creaked opened the door. His heartbeat calmed somewhat to see the situation was unchanged. His father was still standing next to Morin, leering over her. She was doing a good job of pretending he did not exist, while Kincaid stood stoically, his huge fists clenched at his sides, staring daggers at his father.

“Diarmaid!” Maddison suddenly cried out and pushed past him into the room.

“Maddison!” Kincaid exclaimed, his face lighting up as he opened his arms to her. She ran straight into them, bursting into tears and sobbing against his chest. “Thank God! Me and Ciarán didnae ken if ye were alive!” he told her, visibly moved.

Odhrán was also touched to see Maddison’s joy at seeing her brother, but he made sure to show no sign of it in front of his father. Keeping his expression neutral, he went to stand by the wall, leaning against it and crossing his legs, not far away from where they were standing. If his father tried anything, he wanted to be close enough to act. Nevertheless, inwardly, he congratulated himself on having been able to find a way to free Maddison without losing his father’s trust. That was useful for his long-term plan.

Silently, he watched Kincaid comforting Maddison, holding her as she cried. Kincaid had no idea that stealing Morin from under his nose at the auction had been the biggest favor he could have done for him. It had given him the means to trade the lass for Maddison. He had not been sure how much longer he could have prevented his father from carrying out his threat to kill the girl that he had no clue his son was head over heels in love with.

“Are ye hurt, Sister? Did they hurt ye at all?” Kincaid was asking her, glaring at the laird over her shoulders, his voice thick with emotion.

She shook her head. “Nay, I’ve been locked up, but they havenae hurt me,” she told him through her sobs, turning in his arms and looking around the room. Odhrán could see she was starting to take in her surroundings. He steeled himself for the inevitable.