Page 80 of Secrets of a Kilted Seduction

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

“Iwill,” said Blaine loudly and clearly, completing his vows and bringing the moment of doom closer as far as Alana was concerned.

He had been crushing her hand throughout the ceremony, to make her comply, and she could do nothing about it, not even cry out in pain. She was too afraid, for he had assured her beforehand that every one of the guests was one of his supporters. “So, dinnae even think of tryin’ tae run. Ye’ll nae get very far, and I’ll enjoy punishin’ ye fer makin’ me look a fool.”

Numbly, she went through the motions of the ceremony, sincerely wishing she was dead, for it had to be a better prospect than being married to the maniac standing next to her. More tears threatened to fall as she thought of her poor father, locked in his own stinking dungeon, soon to be murdered by Blaine. There was nothing she could do to save him.

Then, as though the torture could not get any worse, she thought of Tadhg, seeing his handsome, smiling face in her mind’s eye. Why did I send him away? I told him it was because he made me sad. I was fool. He’s the only one who makes me truly happy. It should be him standing here next tae me right now, him speaking the sacred vows, and he would mean every word he said.

Suddenly, her thoughts were disrupted by a sharp pain in her side. She looked down in puzzlement and realized Blaine had poked her hard with his elbow.

“Say it,” he hissed at her, his dark eyes gleaming with spite.

“What?” she murmured, not understanding why he was so angry. She saw him flick a glance at the minister. The minister cleared his throat and began speaking, words she vaguely remembered him saying just before.

“Wilt thou obey him, serve him, in sickness and in health, forsaking all other, keep thee only tae him as long as ye both shall live?”

With dawning horror, she realized this was the moment when she was expected to become Blaine’s chattel by saying, “I will.”

“Say it,” Blaine whispered harshly in her ear, pinching her arm painfully. Fearing the consequences if she did not, she opened her mouth to speak.

“I—” she began, but before she could complete the sentence, all hell broke loose.

Loud shouts and cries rang out, echoing around the hall and pulling her abruptly from her trance. Blaine had let go of her and seemed to be panicking, pulling out his sword as of to fight. Then, she looked up to see men coming from somewhere behind the altar.

At first, she could not believe her eyes, thinking she must have slipped into some kind of delirium. But then she recognized her father, and beside him was Tadhg! Laird Stewart and some other men were with them, all rushing forward into the hall, wielding their swords fiercely, scattering the minister and most of the congregation.

“Faither! Tadhg!” she shouted, thrilled to see them, believing some kind of miracle had occurred to save her from a fate worse than death.

But within seconds, it all became deadly earnest as fierce fighting broke out between her rescuers and Blaine and his men. And she was caught in the middle. She dived for cover beneath the altar as men clashed around her, watching the booted feet engaged in their grotesque dance, hearing the grunts, groans, and screams of agony as they hacked and struck at each other with their blades. Blood spattered the floor inches from her face.

She peeped out from beneath the fringed hem of the altar cloth and saw her father engaged in battle with a bearded man she recognized from the council chamber. Despite his poor condition, her father was fighting ferociously, his grimy face a snarl as he wielded his weapon skillfully against his foe. Her heart clenched with fear to see him battling in his weakened state, afraid at any moment that he might be hurt.

But her eyes inevitably sought Tadhg, whose huge figure stood out head and shoulders above the rest, his powerful body moving and twisting as he clashed with Blaine. The pair hammered at each other, seemingly oblivious to everything else. Blaine’s face was contorted with hate and exertion, while Tadhg’s was set into hard, unforgiving lines yet seemed almost calm in comparison. Alana’s eyes did not leave Tadhg, and to try to quell her anxiety for him, she began praying under her breath for the angels to protect him and help him vanquish Blaine.

Not far away, Knox was fighting fiercely with another of the corrupt councilmen, and she was watching when he ran his opponent through. The injured man screamed and fell to the floor, his writhing body becoming an awkward obstacle for the other fighters.

“Tadhg, watch out behind ye!” she shouted, seeing he was in danger of tripping over the man as he moved backwards. But there was such a clamor filling the air that she was sure he could not have heard her. Then she became sure of it as he stepped backwards and the back of his ankle connected with the fallen councilman. Alana screamed, “Tadhg!” unable to do anything as she watched him lose his balance and go crashing down onto his back.

Tadhg rolled sideways to avoid Blaine’s blade as it arched above him, missing the blow by inches. But in the confused melee, Blaine still had the advantage until Tadhg could get back up on his feet again. He harried Tadhg relentlessly, preventing him from getting up.

Alana saw the way things were going, and when Blaine raised his sword again, clearly intending to thrust it into Tadhg’s chest, she shot out from her hiding place and punched him hard from behind, just as Tadhg had taught her.

Blaine yelped and spun around. “Ye wee bitch!” he shouted into her face when he saw her, his own contorted with fury. She did not care because behind him, she could see Knox pulling Tadhg to his feet and breathed a sigh of relief.

The relief was short-lived, for she became aware that Blaine was screaming in her face, “This is all yer fault, ye’ve ruined all me plans, I’m gonnae kill ye fer that!”

Alana screamed as he raised his sword above her head, clearly intending to kill her. She squeezed her eyes tight shut, expecting the bow to fall. But it did not come. She opened them, and gasped to see Blaine in front of her, his mouth open, his eyes wide and staring, falling slowly to his knees.

His hands and arms spasmed as he tried to reach behind him for something he could not seem to reach. It was only when he fell forward at her feet that Alana could see what it was. The handle of a dirk was protruding from the middle of his back, blood welling around the hilt. Behind him stood her father, an expression of grim satisfaction on his features as he met her eyes.

She wanted to run and embrace him, to thank him for saving her. But seeing Blaine die in front of her eyes, however loathsome a creature he had been, was so shocking, she could not seem to move.

Suddenly, it all became too much. Her head started spinning, and she swayed on her feet, hazily realizing in some part of her brain that she was about to swoon. She vaguely saw her father start towards her, but the last thing she felt before blackness overwhelmed her were Tadhg’s arms going around her.

When Alana awoke, she knew without even opening her eyes where she was: the infirmary. When she did open her eyes, she saw Moira next to the bed.

“Och, ye’re awake,” the healer said, looking down at her with a warm smile. She placed a cool hand on Alana’s forehead, and after a few moments, she removed it and nodded. “Yer temperature’s fine, so there’s nae fever. I think ye just fainted from all the ruckus,” she said soothingly. “I’ll make ye some hot tea. Ye have some visitors. They’ve been waitin’ since they brought ye in.”