Page 39 of The Highlander’s Savage Vow

When she opened her eyes again, they were still bright with tears but also with something that looked like hope.

"What happens now?" she asked.

He studied her face—the fear that still lingered there, in the way she seemed to brace herself for rejection or anger. Something fierce and protective stirred in his chest.

"Now I keep me promise," he said firmly. "I told ye I'd keep ye safe, and I meant it. And if getting rid of Murray MacNab is what it takes tae make sure ye never look this terrified again, then that's what I'll dae."

"Ruaridh..."

"Nay more secrets between us," he said, his hands still framing her face. "From now on, we face whatever comes taegether. Understood?"

"Understood." She nodded, fresh tears spilling over. "Understood."

For a moment, they stood there in the quiet of their chamber, her face still cradled in his hands. Then reality crashed back over him like cold water.

"This cannae wait until tomorrow," he said abruptly, dropping his hands and stepping back. "If Murray thinks that letter is in this castle, we need tae ken now. I have tae question Dougal tonight."

"Ruaridh, nay." Iona reached for his arm as he moved toward the door. " The interrogation can wait a few hours, Ye need tae eat, and get some rest⁠—"

"It cannae wait." His voice carried that edge of authority again. "Every moment we delay gives Murray more time tae plan his next move. If he's coming fer that letter..."

"Ruaridh, please⁠—"

But he was already gone, the door closing behind him with a soft thud that echoed through the chamber like a death knell.

The dungeons beneath Castle MacDuff were carved from living rock, their walls weeping with moisture that never fully dried. Torches flickered in iron sconces, casting dancing shadows that made the narrow corridors feel like the mouth of hell itself.

Ruaridh made his way down the winding stone steps, each movement sending a sharp reminder through his injured side. The bandages were holding, but he could feel the pain with every breath.

Just get the information ye need. Then ye can rest.

The MacNab bastard sat chained to the wall of the deepest cell, his head still bandaged from the blow that had taken him down during the fight. Blood matted his dark hair, and his face was swollen on one side, but his eyes were alert and filled with defiance.

"Well, well," Dougal said as Ruaridh approached the cell. "The great MacDuff heir, come tae visit his prisoner. How generous of ye."

"I'll ask ye once, and once only," Ruaridh said, his voice deadly quiet. "What was yer mission? What did Murray send ye fer?"

Dougal's laugh was harsh, bitter. "Ye think I'm going tae tell ye that, dae ye? Think a few hours in chains will break me?"

"I think ye're going tae tell me because ye're smart enough tae ken that cooperation might be the only thing standing between ye and a very unpleasant death."

"Threats, is it?" Dougal spat at Ruaridh's feet. "Ye MacDuffs were always better at talking than fighting."

The crack of Ruaridh's fist against Dougal's jaw echoed through the stone chamber. The prisoner's head snapped back, blood spattering from his split lip.

"We fought well enough yesterday," Ruaridh said, his voice still dangerously calm as he flexed his knuckles. "As yer dead companions can attest. Now, what did Murray tell ye about yer mission? Did he say what ye were looking fer?"

Dougal worked his jaw, spitting blood. When he spoke again, some of the defiance had left his voice. "He said tae bring back the MacNeill bitch, alive, because she had something of his..."

"If ye call me wife names one more time, I'll break yer teeth." Ruaridh's voice was soft but carried the promise of violence. "What kind of something?"

"Didnae say. Didnae matter. Murray's business is his own."

Another blow, this one to the man's temple, left Dougal dazed and blinking. "Wrong answer. Try again."

"I dinnae ken!" Dougal's voice cracked slightly. "He never told me what she took, just that he wanted it back, with her. I swear it!"

Ruaridh studied the man's face, looking for signs of deception. But Dougal seemed to be telling the truth—the men didn’t know about the letter or its contents and maybe neither did he, although that didn’t mean he didn’t know what Murray was up to.