Page 10 of Seduction in a Kilt

He shook his head. “I dinnae think ye have a very good grasp of what the truth is, lass. Ye’ll understand if I dinnae believe ye. Anyway, it disnae really matter. We’re still goin’ tae the castle so ye can be questioned.”

“Which castle? The one yer friend is laird of?” she asked.

“Nae need tae pretend ye dinnae ken. Ye’re on Stewart land, as I’m sure ye ken very well, and that was Laird Stewart who was just here. We’re expectin’ an attack by the MacAlisters on his castle at any time. I suppose ye were out here scoutin’ out the lay of the land fer yer laird, were ye nae?”

“I wasnae! I ken naethin’ of any of that. Look, please, just let me go, and ye’ll never see me again,” she pleaded, desperate not to be taken to the castle and tortured. They would soon find out who she was, and then all her efforts to escape her terrible fate would have been for nothing. Her life would be over.

She knew a little of what happened to those who were questioned as spies, and it was not pleasant. Yet it seemed a better fate than being returned to her brother and wed to Gael Hamilton.

“Anyway, I’m sorry fer hittin’ ye,” he suddenly said, sounding surprisingly sincere. “I dinnae go around hittin’ women, but I thought ye were a lad. I feel bad fer fightin’ with ye too. Ye have a cut on yer face.” She flinched away as a large finger brushed against her cheek just below her left eye. “If ye dinnae wantae have a scar there, ye’d best let me see tae it.”

She sat quietly while he poured whisky onto his kerchief, but then she winced as the spirit stung her while he cleaned the wound carefully, his touch unexpectedly gentle. Once he had finished, he leaned over to his saddle bag and produced from inside a small pot of salve. He dabbed some onto the kerchief and then the cut, which she could feel throbbing slightly.

Despite her dreadful situation, Ivy was touched. She could tell he was a good man at heart. She had never met one like him. He oozed strength and power, yet he was kind and gentle as a lamb. She could not help being drawn to him.

“There ye are. With luck, that’ll nae get infected, and ye willnae have a scar,” he said, putting away the salve and stuffing the damp kerchief in his pocket.

“Thank ye, but a wee scar’s the least of me problems,” she replied, thoroughly dispirited. Ye cannae give up, ye havetae keep tryin’ tae persuade him, she told herself. Beg him if ye must. “Look, I can see ye’re a good man. What ye dinnae understand is that I’ve just risked me life tae escape a terrible fate, and now, ye’re forcin’ me tae face another.

“Ye ken what happens tae those who are accused of bein’ spies. If ye take me tae that castle, ye’re as good as signin’ me death warrant. But this attack on yer friend’s clan ye keep talkin’ about has naethin’ tae dae with me. All I want is tae leave this place and go far away. Please, let me go!”

“Ye ken I cannae dae that,” he replied, the corners of his lips turning down. “I cannae take the risk. If ye’re innocent, we’ll soon find out.”

She shuddered fearfully, cradling the beaker of tea hot tea between her hands as despair filled her. “What, after hours of torture? Ye ken very well that folks will say anythin’ tae stop it.”

They fell silent then, her words hanging in the air between them. Ivy’s silence was not just about her fear of being tortured. It was also about Carson. He was a cruel brute, and he would enjoy punishing her for running away from the marriage he had arranged for her. And anyone he thought had been involved in her escape would also be in grave danger.

Even though Liam was her captor, she could tell he was decent man who believed he was doing the right thing. In another life, she thought sadly, things might have been very different between us.

She found she did not want anything bad to happen to him, which it surely would once Carson found out who had her. She shivered despite the fire, her eyes scanning the surrounding world of shadow and darkness, suddenly unable to shake off the feeling they were being watched.