Page 9 of Brigand

With a whimper, Violet closed her eyes and let the darknesstake her again.

Chapter Three

Aw, hell. She’d fainted.

Ewan glared at the girl, a limp mass, her head lolling toone side. For a moment he hated himself. He should have known the water wouldstill terrify her. Perhaps in his heart of hearts, he had. Maybe that was whyhe’d decided to bring her to the Cloud. To assure she wouldn’t escape hisclutches, certainly, but he had wanted to torment her as well.

And torment her, he had.

So much, she’d fainted. The short ride from the shore to theisland had frightened her to the extent that she’d succumbed to the vapors.

He felt like a worm.

But at least she was no longer rocking the boat.

He reached the dock and tied up as quickly as he could,hoping to get her to the keep and start a fire before she roused. Balancingagainst the sway of the boat, he lifted her into his arms. Then, splashingthrough the lapping waves, he carried her along the shore and up the stonestairs to his castle.

She looked so frail in his arms. So pale and wan.

He hardened his heart.

This was Violet.

The girl who’d had his mother dismissed without references.The girl who had, on a whim, unhinged his life. They had very nearly starved todeath that first winter. And if Ewan hadn’t turned to the streets to make aliving, they would have. Still, his mother hadn’t survived their desperationlong. She’d succumbed to the ague within a year, leaving Ewan without afarthing to his name, and a sickly babe to raise.

He’d been thirteen.

Oh, how he had plotted and dreamed of revenge.

For years, he’d dreamed of something like this.

That he now held Violet prisoner here in the Cloud—the keepthat had been his very first victory—was sublime.

Though if she expired on him, that would probably ruin thedelicious irony. And she was terribly cold. And shivering. And her lips wereblue. He hurried his pace.

He used the brass key around his neck to open the door tothe castle, carried Violet inside and laid her on a divan in the great room.Because her arms were bound behind her back she couldn’t lie flat, so he untiedthem. And then he removed her gag. He was annoyed to discover another ragjammed into her mouth. Damn Callum. Had Ewan known, he would have removed itsooner.

Her cheeks were still pale, and cool. He allowed his caressto drift over them, reveling in the velvet softness. And then her lips…

He curled his fingers into a fist and stormed to the hearth.The fire was laid but the tinder was damp. He realized, even if he could startthe fire, it would take hours to warm the cavernous room.

So he carried Violet, still terribly still, up the curlingstairs to the tower, to the lord’s solar, and set her gently on the bed. He litthe fire and threw on a few more logs for good measure. Then he went back downto the kitchen and raided the pantry, collecting a small cask of ale, a wheelof cheese and some crackers. They would likely be stale but they would do forthe night. He grabbed a couple apples and a knife as well.

By the time he got back to his room, the sharp chill hadwaned. He set their dinner on the table and went back to the bed. Violet lay inthe same position, not having moved at all. Concern niggled him.

How long did a woman remain unconscious when she fainted? Hedidn’t know. He’d never made a woman faint before.

The fragile beauty of her face haunted him. God, she wasgorgeous. Like an alabaster statue. Cold and unmoving.

He frowned and picked up her hand. It was like ice. Henoticed the damp stain her slippers had made on the coverlet. Damn. Of coursethey were wet. She’d leapt into the water, for Christ’s sake. He slipped themoff, and then her stockings, draping them over the chair by the fire. Her hemwas damp and cold as well, so he removed her dress, but he left her petticoatson because frankly he didn’t need the temptation.

He wrapped several stones from the hearth in a cloth andtucked them around her feet and covered her with a quilt. Then he stood backand watched her. The slight rise and fall of her chest relieved him. Still, headded another blanket. And threw a few more logs on the blaze.

He sat in a chair by the table, poured himself a cup of aleand cut off a slice of cheese. And he ate. And drank. And stared at the womanin his bed. Wondering if the vengeance would be worth the price.

God, he hoped so.

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