Alex stared at the floor and spoke of Euphemia and what had happened between them, as well as pulling away from her after she’d asked him to lash her and he’d complied. He could vividly recall the disgust he had felt with himself and with her. He told Lena of being forced to leave his apprenticeship with his da but going back to warn Thomas and help him flee, only to find Thomas had been beaten, had been violated, and had become a murderer. And with his final words, he explained how Lena’s touch and her love had given him the freedom to see the bedchamber in a whole new way. He wanted tenderness and love, not control. With her, he could relinquish that need because he loved her and knew in his gut that she would never hurt him.
Alex laid his shame and his failure out for his wife, and when he was done, he could not look up to meet her eyes. He feared the judgment, disappointment, and disgust he would find there. But most of all, he feared that he had lost her by giving her what she had asked for—his filthy secrets.
Her skirts rustled, and his heart clenched with the surety that she was leaving him, but then she was on her knees before him, her hands coming to his thighs, then sliding up his arms and over his shoulders to his face.
“Look at me,” she begged, cupping his cheeks.
He’d not have been able to deny the request even if he’d wanted to. He loved her. He loved her to the depths of his soul. Her smile, her goodness, and her love for him filled him with unspeakable hope that he both feared and craved. He wanted to breathe her in as a deep, cleansing breath and be made anew by their love.
His eyes met her shining blue ones, and the compassion he saw there ripped a ragged noise from him.
“I love ye,” she whispered. “Ye did nae fail Thomas. Ye were but a lad. Forgive yerself.”
He nodded, feeling almost as if hearing her say the words released him from that long-held guilt. She kissed him gently and then pressed her cheek to his chest as she slipped between his thighs. “Ye gave me back my strength, Alex.” She pulled away to look at him. “Ye have always been strong, but ye became lost in grief and shame. Let me be the flame to lead ye through the darkness. As one, let us be stronger than our enemies.”
Such relief washed over him that he sagged against her. “Aye,” he finally said when his throat unclenched. “Together, we will conquer our enemies.”
But how? They had to get past the guards to the dungeon without anyone being alerted. They only had the night to rescue Lachlan and ride hard to the Fraser hold and to the Grant hold to convince both men to pledge their loyalty to the king once more.
“My head aches,” Lena mumbled, interrupting Alex’s thoughts.
He pressed a kiss to his wife’s temple. “Ye’re tired.”
“Nay. I believe it is the potion that Euphemia gave me. It made me unable to move and then put me to sleep.”
God’s teeth! That was it!
Alex grabbed Lena by the face and kissed her on the mouth. When he pulled back, she looked befuddled. “I love yer kisses, but what was that for?”
He chuckled. “Ye gave me an idea on how we can get past the men guarding the dungeon to rescue yer brother.”
“How?” she asked, excitement in her voice.
“I need to get my hands on that potion Euphemia gave ye,” he said slowly, knowing Lena would not like it.
She surprised him by nodding, though a fierce frown marred her face. “Aye,” she agreed, “that would be the best way. Once ye attain the potion, though, how will we manage to get the guards to drink the poisoned wine or mead?”
Alex thought on that a moment. The idea that came to him was not one he cared for, but it was likely their best chance. “Ye will get them to drink it.”
“Me?” she gasped.
“Aye.” His gut clenched just thinking about allowing Lena to be involved in such a dangerous scheme, but she was beautiful and if she flirted just a bit, he had no doubt the guards would succumb to her offerings of wine. “Ye can feign being a serving wench.”
Her eyes suddenly lit up. “Aye! I’ll say I’ve a liking for one of them! They’ll nae be the wiser. There are so many servants here, I doubt they ken them all.”
“My men and I will be waiting nearby,” he said, “and if anything should go wrong, we will come to yer aid. Dunnae fear.”
“I dunnae, Alex. I ken ye will nae let harm come to me, nor I to ye.”
“Come,” he said, rising and taking her hand. “Let us go tell Donald of the plan, and he can help ye inform the other men whilst I pay a visit to Euphemia.”
Lena scowled. “How will ye convince her to give ye the potion?”
“Euphemia dunnae trust anyone. If I ken her, she’ll have the potion in her bedchamber. I’ll have to distract her, and then I’ll take it.”
Lena gave him a dark look. “I dunnae like it, but I ken it’s necessary. As long as yer distractions dunnae involve yer body touching her—”
He pressed a finger to Lena’s lips. He did not want to give her all the explicit details of the things he and Euphemia used to do to each other in the bedchamber, and he prayed Lena would nae ask. “I’ll have to touch her wrists, but that should be all.”
