“Aye. Colin is much like my husband, his younger brother, Findlay. Neither devil sleeps verra long. I kinnae stand by and watch ye be mistreated as I have been. If ye’re to have any hope of escaping this hell, give way now and I’ll unlock the door.” The woman waved a slender, pale hand at Bridgette and the door. When she did, her gown slid up her arm to reveal a cauterized imprint much like the one on Bridgette’s arm but with initials that started withF.
Bile rose in Bridgette’s throat as her fingers moved to her own raw wound. Her gaze locked with the woman’s. Defiance and shame glittered there. “All the Campbell men brand their women. They are beasts,” she hissed.
Bridgette frowned. “Does Jamie ken all this?”
The woman smirked at Bridgette. “Jamie MacLeod is nae my father. He just likes to call himself such. He’s my uncle. My father was his brother, Monroe MacLeod.”
Bridgette gaped at the woman. That was Lachlan’s father! But how could that be so? A horrid suspicion hit Bridgette. “What is yer name?” she demanded, her heart racing.
“Lena,” the woman answered without guile, and continued to speak. “My father was a great man, but he was killed, along with my brothers, by Robert the Bruce. My uncle says the Bruce’s son, King David, has returned to take back his throne. My uncle means to stop him, but I dunnae trust a word that man mutters. He has proven himself a bad man in this last sennight.”
Thoughts raced through Bridgette’s head as she battled back her astonishment. “Where have ye been all these years?” Lena could not have been with Jamie if she was only now realizing he was not good and if she had no notion that her brothers were alive at Dunvegan, which was still her family’s home.
Lena’s eyebrows drew together, and Bridgette realized how odd her question must seem, but Lena slowly answered. “I lived with a priest in England from the time I was saved from drowning in a loch near Dunvegan by my father’s closest friend, Atholl, until a sennight ago when my uncle came in the dark of night and said I was to be married to Findlay. He said the Campbells and the MacLeods have joined to strike down King David, and my uncle wanted an alliance. Did ye ken Iain when he was alive?”
“Iain is nae dead, Lena! Ye have been lied to! Marion, whom Colin and Jamie hold behind this door, is his wife.”
Lena’s lips parted, and her face grew pale. “What say ye? Iain is nae dead?” Her hand fluttered to her neck. “What of my other brothers?” she asked, her voice shaking.
The bang of a door being thrown open somewhere down the corridor made both women jump.
“Lena, please!” Bridgette rushed out. “I’ll tell ye all, but we must get Marion and escape.”
Offering no reply, Lena moved to open the door, but her hand shook so badly it took several attempts. When she finally opened it, Marion rushed past her to Bridgette. Marion’s eyes rounded as she looked at Bridgette, and pity filled her eyes.
“Dunnae look at me so,” Bridgette commanded, her stomach clenching. Numbness had settled on her, and she wished to keep the cloak as long as she could. She feared what allowing her emotions to return would mean.
Marion nodded and moved her glance to Lena, as did Bridgette. She didn’t know how much Marion had heard, if any of it, but there was no time to explain. “Ye must come with us! We must away! Will ye lead us?”
Lena shook her head, and Bridgette’s heart plummeted. “I kinnae leave, but I’ll tell ye how to escape.”
“Why can ye nae leave, Lena?” Bridgette demanded. “Dunnae be scairt! Ye are a MacLeod despite yer marriage! Iain and—”
“Lena MacLeod?”Marion interrupted, the surprise in her voice telling Bridgette that Marion recognized the name but could not yet grasp the truth.
“Aye, I’m Lena MacLeod,” she responded.
“Later!” Bridgette said harshly. They had precious little time. “Why can ye nae come with us?”
“Jamie holds a boy prisoner, a child I vowed to protect,” she said. “Please, send Iain to me. Tell my brother that I live! Tell him I was married by threat!”
“I cannot believe this,” Marion mumbled as she gawked at Lena.
Before Bridgette could respond to either woman, Colin roared, “Bridgette!” The sound of his voice echoed down the long hall.
Fear blew through her like a strong wind. When Lena’s hand came to Bridgette’s arm, her skin crawled from the simple touch. She jerked away with the sudden need to wash herself clean.
Understanding eyes met Bridgette’s. “Make haste down this hall,” Lena said. “Go right. It will lead outside. Head across the keep to the far tower that stands alone overlooking the loch. The tower has a tunnel underneath the floor that will take ye all the way down to the shore of the loch. Now away!”
“Where are ye, Bridgette?” Colin roared. His voice did not sound closer, but Bridgette’s heart raced faster as Marion tugged at her. She wanted to shove Marion’s hand off her, the touch near impossible to tolerate once more, but she forced herself not to.
“Lena, we must away!” Marion cried in a low whisper. “We can try to rescue the boy as well!”
Lena shook her head. “I dunnae ken where Jamie holds him prisoner. Away with ye both before Colin sees ye talking to me. He’ll kill the boy if he thinks I helped ye, just to punish me.”
Bridgette and Marion nodded, and when Marion gripped her hand, Bridgette’s belly filled with revulsion. God’s teeth, she could not stand the contact. It made images of Colin and what he had done to her flash in her head. With a strangled moan, she tugged her hand away to a look of surprise from Marion, but thankfully, there was no time for her to question Bridgette.
Bridgette locked gazes with Lena. “I will send all yer brothers back to rescue ye.”
