Page 21 of Brigand

Craig laughed again as Violet thrashed on his lap. As shemoved, something on her cheek caught Ewan’s attention. At first he thought itwas a shadow but then she arched back and the light from the fire hit herfully.

His heart clenched. Then thudded wildly.

A huge, nasty bruise discolored nearly half her face. Herjaw was swollen. There were dark marks on her neck as well.

The reason for Mungo’s glare became painfully clear.

Fuck.

Ewan opened his mouth to bellow for this to cease, butbefore he could utter a word, Craig let out a high-pitched squeal and froze. Heglanced down at his crotch with wide eyes.

Violet said something to him but it was a low hiss, so Ewancouldn’t make it out. Craig raised his arms, holding them high in the air. Sheedged off his lap, still holding something there, holding it there until therest of her was far enough away. She retreated quickly, spinning and hurryingaround the table.

It was then Ewan saw what she held, what she had used tohold Craig at bay—the sharply pronged serving fork. His lips curled. Good forher.

Their gazes met.

Her steps slowed. Faltered. She studied his face.

She veiled her thoughts but not until he caught a glimpse ofher disgust.

He hadn’t helped her, that flash of expression said. He’dstood there and watched as she was mauled by one of his men and he hadn’thelped.

And the scene had amused him.

Shame rose in a tide on the back of his neck, burning hisears.

But she didn’t notice. She had already spun on her heel andfled the hall.

* * * * *

He couldn’t get the vision of her bruised face out of hismind. Ewan lay in his bed and stewed. Sleep eluded him though it was deep intothe night. He’d brought her here so he could punish her for her sins, not soone of his men could brutalize her.

When he’d questioned Pip and Jessie—badgered them to tellhim what had happened—and the story came out, a hard ball had settled in hisgut. Then swelled. It still churned there.

He couldn’t help thinking this was at least in part hisfault. He hadn’t protected her. She’d been struck. Very nearly raped. And hehadn’t protected her.

Oh, he’d had words with Craig. Told him in no uncertainterms he’d have his balls on a string if he so much as touched her again. ButCraig was new to his crew. And an insolent son of a bitch. Ewan had taken himon as a favor to a friend. As much as Craig appreciated the chance to earn alittle extra coin, Ewan didn’t trust the man to keep his paws to himself.

He resolved that first thing tomorrow he’d have a talk withMungo and ask him to shadow his little captive.

That should have calmed him. Should have eased the disquietin his soul.

It did not.

The look in Violet’s eyes, there in the great room, burnedhim.

He knew he shouldn’t go to her, try to explain, but hecouldn’t help himself. He would never sleep if he left things like this. Heflung back the warm covers, shuddering at the chill. This damn keep was draftyas hell and the fire had burned down. He quickly yanked on his braes and ashirt, grabbed a lamp and padded down the staircase to the hall. Then downagain, into the bowels of the castle.

He shivered as he descended into what had once been the Cloud’sdungeon. It was dank and musty. Frigid air licked at his toes. It smelled. Hadhe really banished her here?

Her chamber had been a storage room with an old wrought-ironlock, but Ewan’s skeleton key opened it with a creaky clank. The door swungopen and he lifted the lamp. His heart lurched.

Violet lay on a narrow cot covered only by a thin blanket.Her body was curled into a tight ball. Even from across the room, he could seeher trembling. And damn. It was freezing in here. Deep beneath the ground. Nota lick of warmth. He raked his fingers through his hair and swore beneath hisbreath. He was a beast, as she proclaimed. He was worse than a beast.

He quietly closed the door—though that would hardly keep outthe chill—and made his way toward the bed, his gaze locked on her face. Itcould have been the wan light from the lamp but was her face really that pale?Did her lips have a slightly blue tinge? The swelling had gone down a little onher cheek but it was still a nasty mottled color.

She seemed so frail, so fragile it made his chest hurt.