Page 6 of Savage Kilted Highlander

CHAPTER FIVE

Prisoner?

Constance gasped, dumbstruck, not just by the man’s words, but also by his appearance. They were now facing each other, and he was like a wall in front of her that she was being pressed against, her nose level with his chest. He seemed enormous, with broad shoulders and a powerful build that blocked out the light. He towered over her, so that she had to tilt her head back just to see his face. As she did so, her breath hitched with fear at the sight of the sword and two daggers secured at his belt.

When she finally dared to look him in the face, she found herself gazing into a pair of sharp, hazel-green eyes set below a shock of tousled, shoulder-length, dark-blond hair. He is young, she thought with surprise, her heart thudding as her frightened gaze travelled over his tanned, ruggedly handsome features, taking in his fearsome, battle-hardened appearance. The faint scar running across his darkly stubbled jaw only added to the impression.

Cold terror shot through her veins like quicksilver. If she was trembling before, she now began to shake violently, convinced she had had the misfortune to fall into the hands of one of those murderous Scottish brutes Lord Ashbourne had brought her up to fear and despise. But at the same time, she was aware that he was examining her too, his shrewd, hazel-green gaze moving slowly over her face. It was at the same time terrifying and… strangely exciting.

“So, now we’ve both had a good look and got the measure of the other, eh?” he said softly, taking hold of her chin with one hand and turning her head this way and that, as though inspecting her.

Despite her fear, Constance bridled at such highhanded treatment and pulled free of his grip. Straightening up as best she could with his arm pinning her to his body, she lifted her chin defiantly, looked into his eyes, and asked with a boldness she hardly knew she possessed, “Are you saying that you have taken me prisoner because Laird Kerr is my father?”

“Aye, that’s exactly right,” he said with a nod, his smile lingering and giving him an air of satisfaction. “Ye’re me prisoner now, fer a while at least, Lady Agnes.”

Constance felt almost giddy with relief, and she could not stop herself from laughing hysterically. She was so overwhelmed with emotions, she couldn’t stop herself. Any vestige of a smile vanished abruptly from her captor’s face. “What’s so funny?” he demanded through gritted teeth, his dark brows knitting.

“You-you think I-I am Lady Agnes,” she managed to stutter, hiccoughing with nervous laughter.

“I dinnae think ye are, I ken ye are,” he said gruffly, gripping her tightly.

“Oh, but you are wrong! So very wrong. I am not Lady Agnes at all! You have got the wrong woman, I’m afraid. It is a case of mistaken identity, so you may as well release me.” She felt quite giddy with relief.

She was shocked when he tightened his hold on her, making it hard to breathe. Her laughter abruptly cut off. He leaned down threateningly, his face inches from hers. “D’ye think I’m a fool? That I cannae see what’s in front of me face? I saw ye today clear as day in the castle courtyard. I ken exactly who ye are, so dinnae try tae play stupid games with me, Lady Agnes. This is a serious matter,” he hissed.

Constance beat ineffectually at his chest, starting to panic as she struggled to draw in air. “Y-you are h-hurting me, I cannot b-breathe!” she gasped.

He loosened his hold a little, leaving her panting but able to gradually catch her breath. She was trembling so hard, that when she managed to speak, she could not help but stutter. “I-I am not p-playing games. It matters not who you think I am, I c-can assure you that I am not L-Lady Agnes.”

He snorted derisively and shook his head. “Is that so? Then how come you look just like her? I suppose ye expect me tae believe ye’re her twin sister nay one has ever heard about, is that it?” he said sarcastically.

“That is exactly what I am! I am Agnes’s twin sister!” Constance cried, desperate to make him believe her.

“Ach, shut yer mouth and save yer breath. We both ken ye’re lyin’. Everyone kens ye’re an only child. Ye dinnae have a sister.”

“But she does have a sister! She just doesn’t… know it yet. I only just discovered it myself by accident a few months ago. We are identical twins, but we were separated at birth. That is why I am here, to meet her for the first time, and my father too,” Constance gabbled, desperate for him to let her go. “You have to believe me. Please, let me go!”

But he did not reply. When she looked up at him again, she saw he was staring hard at her, confusion in his eyes. “What–what is it? Oh, please, don’t hurt me!” she pleaded, shaking from head to toe as fear for her life welled up inside her once more.

“I do believe ye,” he said eventually, not taking his eyes off her.

Constance gasped with relief and sagged against him. “Thank you. I’m so glad you have seen sense. Now, will you set me free?”

“Unbelievable as it is, I think it must be true. Ye’re Lady Agnes’ twin, though how it could be is beyond me.” His eyes were raking over her face in a most unsettling manner.

“Why would I make up such a fantastical tale? I suppose, since she and I are supposed to be so alike, it is understandable that you made a mistake.”

As if he had not heard her, he said, “Aye, it must be true. The accent proves it. Ye’re English, nae Scottish. Lady Agnes was born and raised in Scotland. Unless she’s a very good actress, I doubt very much she would speak as ye dae, with that hoity-toity, stuck-up English accent.”

Constance almost snapped back at him, but she held her tongue. She was praying he would let her go, now that he had realized she could not be Agnes, and she did not want to ruin things by making him angry. So, she said, “Exactly. That proves I am not her. So, you can release me now.”

To her consternation, he shook his head. “Why should I release ye?”

“Because I am not Lady Agnes, of course.”

“But ye clearly are her twin sister, which means Laird Kerr must be yer faither. Is that nae right?” he asked, his head cocked to one side inquiringly, his gaze penetrating.

“Um… Yes, that is correct,” Constance replied, her relief giving way to creeping dread.