Froste shrugged. “A low one. All Ihave to do in return is have one of my men kill the MacLean laird and make sureit cannot be traced to Archibald so he can easily take his cousin’s place.Quite simple, really.”
“My father is mad! You’re mad!He’ll never take the throne, and you’ll never become a baron and get the landsyou desire. Iain will triumph,” she shouted, feeling her control slipping away.
Froste whipped his hand out andjerked her to him by the chin. Her skin stung where he gripped her, and painshot through her jaw. “You will call him the MacLeod. Understand?”
She nodded, her heart hammering.
“When he’s dead, I will marry youand you will lawfully be my wife.”
The idea of being this vile man’swife made her want to crawl out of her skin. “I will never be your wife becauseyou are no match for Iain.”
Froste released her chin andslapped her. The force of the blow sent her head sideways, and the throbbing inher cheek now matched the throbbing of her skull. He gave her a mirthless smile.“Youwillbe my wife, and you’ll be pleased to know I find I’m quitetaken with you. So much so that I have dreamed about you every night.” The lustshining in his eyes sent her skittering to the edge of her seat.
Froste caught her by the elbow andyanked her over the rough wood until she was firmly against his side. “I willjoin with you when we reach London so you will know arealman. I don’tneed to be married to you to take you, my dear.”
She had to swallow repeatedly notto lose her accounts. She prayed to God for an idea of how to escape or how toput off Froste, because one thing she knew for certain was that Iain wouldnever reach her in time to save her from Froste’s intentions.
Twenty-Three
Iain knew something was wrong at Dunvegan when thecastle came into sight, but no one appeared on the seagate stairs—or anywhere,for that matter—to greet him. He and Neil exchanged a wary look, and as theystepped off the birlinn, the first thing Iain heard was hundreds of voicesraised in a song for the dying. Fear for Marion rushed through his veins as hetook off across the rocky land and raced up the stairs, Iain close behind him.When he reached the courtyard he came to a shuddering halt. It appeared thatmore than half his clan was gathered there, torches blazing. Spotting FatherMurdoch, Iain shoved his way through the crowd. Lachlan stood beside thepriest, and as Iain scanned the crowd, he saw the faces of those who matteredmost to him—except for Marion and Graham.
By the time he reached Lachlan, icyfear had twisted around his heart.
“Where’s Marion?” he demandedwithout greeting his brother. When Lachlan flinched, Iain’s heart tightened. Heclasped his brother’s forearm. “Where is she?” he growled, refusing to believeshe was dead.
The wariness in Lachlan’s eyes wasunmistakable, but something else flickered there—guilt? “Taken,” Lachlanfinally answered. “Archibald betrayed us and Marion was seized. Graham isupstairs dying, and all I can do is join the singing prayers that he lives.”
Red filled Iain’s vision. “Froste?”
Lachlan nodded.
“Where is Archibald?” Iain wasgoing to rip out the man’s heart.
“Dead,” Lachlan replied,indifferent. “I killed him.”
The momentary shock Iain feltyielded to black fury. “Ye should have left that to me. It is my right!”
“Graham is dying because I failedas laird in yer stead. The right to kill Archibald was mine,” Lachlan spat.
Iain’s fury did not ebb but turned,the tide flowing across the water to England and Froste and, undoubtedly,Marion’s father. He motioned Lachlan to follow him. “Ye will tell me all as Isee Graham.”
Iain didn’t wait for Lachlan toreply. He spun around, ignoring his now silent clan, and went into the castle.
He’d seen death too many times, andhe knew the pain to come if his brother died. When he saw Graham lying in themiddle of his bed, Iain had to grip the side not to fall to his knees andscream his rage and grief. Pale, Graham’s brown hair was slicked back fromfever sweats, his cheeks were hollow, and bloody linens were wrapped around hisabdomen. But Iain was laird and leaders did not fall apart, not even when deathcame to his family.
He put his hand on Bridgette’sshoulder as she sat by Graham’s side, and she flinched before gazing dazedly upat him. Her red, swollen eyes told him she’d been crying for some time.
“What happened?” he asked her.
Bridgette swiped at her tears. “Hesacrificed himself to save my life,” she said, her voice full of sadness. “Ifhe dies, I’m accountable.” She started crying so hard that Fiona, who Iainblinked to realize was there and hovering in a corner, came rushing out of theshadows. Without a word, Fiona enfolded Bridgette in her arms, helped her tostand, and then led her out of the room.
For a moment, stark silence engulfedthe room, then Lachlan spoke. He told Iain of Archibald’s betrayal; of Marion,Graham, and Bridgette going to help an ailing bairn; their being ambushed; andBridgette escaping back to the castle to get help.
Lachlan tugged a hand through hishair. “By the time we reached Graham, he was like this, but I killed Archibaldand two of Froste’s men, and Rory Mac killed the other two knights.”
Iain stared down at his youngestbrother, who would likely die having been shot by an arrow near his heart andgutted with an English sword. He curled his hands into fists, blood roaringthrough his veins with such force his body throbbed.
“I will bring Marion home. Nothingwill stop me.”
