Before she could answer her ownquestion, another man appeared from the darkness and stepped in front of her.“Hello, Lady Marion,” the man whispered. “Froste sent us to fetch you.”
She could barely make out theknight’s features in the dark, but she got a glimpse of the burn scars thatravaged his face, and her blood ran cold. Malcolm Basset was Froste’s mosttrusted, most vicious knight, and his loyalty had been sealed when Froste hadrescued him from the man’s own father, who had set Malcolm on fire.
Malcolm pulled his lips back in asnarl as he slid his calloused hand around her neck. “Froste says we must bringyou back alive, but he told me how you fled him, Marion. I’d like to kill you,but he’d not like it.”
Marion’s heart pounded as shedesperately tried to determine how to escape.
“Forget what you’d like, Malcolm,”the man holding her and covering her mouth hissed near her ear. “Let’s get onwith it. I want to kill the MacLeod and be done with Scotland. We must followorders,” the knight added.
“I know,” Malcolm snarled. “But shedoes not deserve to be Froste’s wife.” Malcolm squeezed her cheeks so hard thattears stung her eyes. “You’re likely not even chaste anymore, are you?”
Marion’s skin crawled with thequestion, and the knight holding her chuckled as Malcolm stared through thedarkness at her. “On further thought,” he said, his voice taking on a huskytone that made bile rise in her throat, “let’s enjoy her first. If she’s notchaste—”
Malcolm’s fist flew by her face sofast that she screamed, but the clammy hand covering her mouth smothered thesound. Malcolm’s fist met her captor’s nose with a sickening crunch, the handdropped away, and she was shoved aside. The man lunged at Malcolm, and Marionsaw her chance. She dashed past the men who were locked in combat, but just asshe filled her lungs to scream for help, she was hit from behind and wentcrashing to the ground, crushed under the weight of a body and its armor. Shewas going to die.
Horror filled her until she waspulled up by her hair and came face-to-face with Malcolm, who clamped his handover her mouth once more. “We want you to scream, but not just yet. We need tohave you placed perfectly so we can ambush the MacLeod and his men.”
Driven by rage and fear, Marionbrought her fist up and started to hit Malcolm in the face. Behind her, sheheard the quick clank of armor, and then her hands were grabbed and pulledroughly behind her back.
“I’ve got her,” Malcolm growled. Hejerked her toward him and encircled her body with his arm, nearly crushing herribs with his grip. He lifted her off the ground, and before she knew what washappening, he dragged her into the cold river as the other knight moved to thebank on the other side. She started to shiver, watching helplessly as the manwithdrew two daggers that gleamed in the moonlight. Her breath seized in her chest.They thought to make her scream to bring Iain running and then the knight wouldthrow the daggers at Iain. Even if he missed, Malcolm had his sword, and Iainwould not be prepared. She could not scream, no matter what they did to her.She could not call Iain to his death.
Her fear must have shown on herface because Malcolm’s grin widened as he stared at her. “Don’t fret. I won’tharm you, though I want to. Now do your duty as Froste’s future bride andscream.”
Immediately, his hand moved fromher mouth to her windpipe and pressed.
“I won’t scream,” Marion managed tochoke out before Malcolm’s fingers crushed her throat a bit harder, cutting herwords off.
“If you don’t scream, you’ll die,and I vow to you, the MacLeod will die either way.”
She’d have no part in helping themkill Iain, even if it meant her own death, which it likely would. It wasbecoming harder and harder to draw air and stars were dancing in her vision,yet she was determined not to scream.
When Iain found a good spot for them to sleep, hespread out a blanket and then quickly caught a rabbit for supper. Angus glaredat him as Iain skinned the rabbit beside the fire.
“Say yer grievance with me or stopyer glaring,” Iain said.
“Is that the command of a laird?”The old MacLeod faced Iain and braced his legs as if preparing to fight.
Rory Mac shook his head with alaugh. “I dunnae think he likes ye, Iain.”
Iain ignored his friend’s proddingand stared at Angus. “That’s the request of one man to another, Angus. I may belaird, but I strive to treat all my men fairly. If ye think I’ve done ye somewrongdoing then I’d like it to be confessed so we can solve it. Though as we’veonly known each other a day, it baffles me what that could be.”
Angus’s stance immediately relaxed,and he moved closer to Iain and sat on the tree stump next to him. “Marion islike a daughter te me.”
“I thought so,” Iain replied,moving over for Rory Mac to sit down, too.
“I want the best for her,” Anguscontinued.
Iain set the rabbit down. “Are yeimplying I’m nae best for her?”
The man notched his chin up. “I’msaying she’s already had a lifetime of feeling unloved. I heard what ye said teher at the chapel.”
“What did ye say?” Rory Mac askedin a deceptively innocent tone.
Iain gave Rory Mac a warning look,but his friend simply grinned in return. A tick started in Iain’s jaw as he metAngus’s gaze once more. “I will treat her well.”
Angus shook his head. “Treating herwell will nae be enough. Marion has a tender heart that yearns for affection.”
“I yearn for affection, too,” RoryMac said, mimicking a woman’s voice with a chuckle.
