Eleven
Nausea gripped Ada as she paced her bedchamber with Hella and Freya on either side of her. Their nails clacked against the floor as she tried to be patient and let enough time to pass that most of the inhabitants in the castle would be asleep. Whether the swirling feeling in her stomach was from the strong urges to aid William in his quest or from the way William had duped her, she did not know. Or mayhap the nausea was caused by exhaustion from Brothwell badgering her with questions or even from her time in William’s arms.
The horrid liar! To purposely make her think he truly desiredher… She clenched her teeth in frustration. Despite the fact that his betrayal felt like an open wound, she felt compelled to help him. Even if she’d wanted to strike back at him, just the thought of doing so made the nauseated feeling within her grow.
She paused at the window, as did Hella and Freya, and she smiled grimly. She may not be able to hurt him as he’d hurt her, but she’d at least struck a small blow, even if it was with a lie and he’d soon know the truth. It had felt wickedly good in the moment to allow William to think she was for the Steward and that she was using her newfound powers to betray him.
“He deserved it,” she murmured, glancing down at her hounds. Freya licked Ada’s hand, but Hella seemed to frown at her.
Ridiculous. Dogs do nae frown.
“He used me, Hella.” The dog whined in response, as if defending him. “He’s a scurrilous beast,” she muttered.
Even now, hours later, shame heated her cheeks and bitterness soured in her mouth when she thought of the hope she’d felt thinking he’d truly wanted her and the promise she’d convinced herself was in his touch. How foolish she’d been. How naive! How wanton and wicked! If it had been true she would not have regretted it, but it all had been a lie, and regret weighed heavily upon her. He’d not desired her; he’d desired to use her, just like all the others.
She stared out at the bright moon, unshed tears blurring her vision. She knew perfectly well why he wanted to use her. The truth of who he really was had filled her senses the moment they had joined. He was King David’s man, and her gift was meant to be used to keep the king on the throne. She did not even question this. It was a fact as unchangeable as the color of her eyes. King David was the rightful king, and William was the king’s man.
Beyond that, she did not know. She had no sense of him personally, no intuition on his thoughts and feelings. In fact, all the instincts that had overwhelmed her since joining with William were directly related to keeping King David on the throne. So that was why he had wanted to use her, to wed her. That was why he had seduced her. Why would he believe Brothwell’s lies that she had betrayed Bram when Brothwell was William’s true enemy?
Another feeling hit her like a smack in the head, and her nausea increased. She fell to her knees, palms against the cold wood floor, and sucked in sharp breaths. Beside her, Hella and Freya both whined. Bram’s name rolled through her mind, followed by his image. Bram was King David’s man, just as she’d suspected, but she’d never told Brothwell that. She would not have put Bram in such danger. She cast her mind back, trying to recall any conversation she’d had about Bram, but there had only been one with Esther.
Oh heavens! She’d told Esther that she felt as if Bram was hiding something, and after she’d said that, she’d heard a noise outside of her room and found Brothwell passing. He’d said nothing to her then, but he must have heard her and become suspicious of Bram himself. Brothwell must have twisted that incident to William. There could be no other explanation, and William had simply believed Brothwell and thought she’d done this horrid thing.
The knowledge did not lessen her hurt, but it did take the edge off her anger just a bit. William clearly loved his brother, and that was an admirable quality, even if he was a beast. A sigh escaped her. She’d hoped passion would lead to love. Now she laughed at that folly. Freya nudged her, and Ada reached out and patted her. “I’m wed now, Freya. I’m wed with nae any love and nae any passion and nae any promise, but I have my gift from those bumbling fairies.”
Freya whined louder, and Hella barked. “The gift is odd,” she murmured. “I ken well I’ll use it to aid King David, but then what?” The future stretched bleak before her. She shook her head. No, she had to concentrate on the present.
What did she need to do exactly, though?
Williamhadasked for the names of the traitors to King David, and she assumed he meant what lairds and lords had joined forces with Brothwell and the Steward. She’d had her suspicions based on the men who had come here and dined with Brothwell and who sent troops at various times, but names rang in her head now, making her skull ache and the nausea… She swallowed and swallowed again, but it would not be kept at bay.
Her stomach tightened, and she doubled over, retching as one name after the other became clear and certainty seeped into her. Beside her, Hella and Freya whined as the names became louder. Laird Bard, Laird Lindsey, and Laird Stone. Lowland chiefs. Traitors to the king. They felt discounted, stripped of the power they’d once held. King David did not give power to the lairds as they wanted, and the Steward would.
She swiped a hand over her mouth and sat up on her knees, shaking. Laird Bard, Laird Lindsey, and Laird Stone had joined forces with the Steward and four of his sons, John, Walter, Alexander, and Robert, to rebel against David.
She forced herself to rise as she took long, calming breaths. Freya and Hella rose with her. They needed to escape, a possibility made easier now that Brothwell thought her fully on his side. He had not stationed guards by her bedchamber door as he normally did, and with her naming William a betrayer, she’d effectively learned where Brothwell was keeping Esther and Maximilian. The trick now was to make her way to the cave without being seen.
But then what? A guard would no doubt be at the cave, and she had no weapon, except herself. She glanced down at her rumpled appearance and decided grimly to follow William’s lead. She would try to seduce the guard to distract him and somehow get his weapon, and if that didn’t work—Fear rose inside her, but she shoved it down. Ithadto work.
Brothwell had commanded her to present herself at the solar when the sun rose, and he’d told her in plain terms that he intended to have her help him decide his plan of attack on the king. Brothwell was canny, and she did not think it would take him overly long to discover that she was lying to him, and then he would undoubtedly kill Esther or Maximilian. Determined not to let that happen, she strode to her dressing table and prepared to seduce.
William jerked awake at the feel of something touching his forehead. Disorientation flooded him as he blinked in the darkness, trying to get his eyes to adjust. Something sharp poked into his back, and a rushing sound—water?—filled his ears. A cool breeze blew, swirling the smell of salt and sand around him. The cave. He was in the cave by the ocean.
“He’s awake,” a man’s voice murmured low.
Instinctually, William tried to bring his fists up to defend himself, but he couldn’t. He pulled on his arms, realizing they were bound in front of him.Tied?
Another tug.
Definitely tied.
At the wrist. He tried to touch a finger to the rope to no avail. Questions exploded in his head at the same time as pain. “Christ,” he growled, recalling suddenly the hit on the back of the head he’d received from one of Brothwell’s guards. The man had not appreciated William’s efforts to escape.
“Shh,” came a woman’s command from his left.
He jerked his head that way, nausea roiling in his stomach, and he squinted into the darkness. “Ada?” William croaked.
“Nay, MacLean. ’Tis her companion. Where is the lass?”
