Highlander Mine. Juliette Miller
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He laughed softly, the sound jarring for its lack of humor. His hand cuffed my wrist painfully, halting my retreat. “There you go again with your plucky refusals. I could take you now, if I felt inclined to force you,” he informed me callously. “You know that.”
I made a small sound before I could stop myself.
He leaned in close, whispering into my ear. “It would be so much more fun if you would beg for it, Amelia. I could make you plead, you realize. For mercy.”
I could hear the racing drumbeat of my heart. I leaned away from him, having difficulty breathing. “There is nothing you could do or say that would make me beg anything of you.”
His eyes roved to the far corner of the room, where Hamish showed his newest card trick to the barmaid as Cecelia served a drink to a customer. Fawkes’s smile was eerily devoid of emotion. “I believe there is one thing.” The terror infused me, hot poison seeping into my heart. “’Tis foolish of you to put his life in danger, when you could so easily keep him safe.”
Fawkes had been watching me, learning my motivations and the direction of my unwavering loyalties. It was the most effective threat he could make, we both knew this. I fought to keep my desperation at bay. I looked into his fathomless eyes. “Please. Please don’t hurt him.”
His eyes roved my body, painting me with fear and a horrid, overwhelming sense of dread. “I think we can come to an agreement that will ensure his safety. I have grown weary of this cat-and-mouse game you insist on playing. So I’m willing to issue you a very generous offer. Do as I say or I can no longer ensure the boy’s safety. Now or at any point in the future.”
Fawkes leaned closer, pausing before whispering in my ear.
“I will return after nightfall. I suggest you come to terms with the inevitable and be ready and willing in whatever way I require.” He brushed a stray strand of hair from my cheek, causing my skin to erupt in gooseflesh. “I always get what I want, Amelia. From this day forward, you’d do well to remember that.”
I awoke with a start. My fists were clenched into the soft furs, which I’d displaced in my restless nightmare. My skin was clammy with a light sweat.
My awareness returned to me as my eyes adjusted to the darkness and my heartbeat began to slow. I could see Hamish’s sleeping form curled up alongside me. And I remembered: we’d escaped. We were being transported by the kind-eyed, well-dressed Highlands women and their trusty guards.
I forced my fists to unclench, and I gently touched Hamish’s soft hair to reassure myself, taking care not to wake him.
Listening to the crunch of the wooden wheels on the graveled road underneath me, I closed my eyes and pictured starry skies and green hills and widening distances.
It was some time before I could sleep again.
* * *
AT DAWN, I was shaken gently awake by Christie, who told me to dress and to wake Hamish. We would arrive at Kinloch within the hour. By the time we had folded away the bedding and adjusted the seats, the carriage was passing through the guarded gates of the keep.
I felt sluggish and sullen from my broken sleep and disturbing dreams. And weary from the continued separation from my sister. If only she’d come with us. If only I’d been able to convince her of her own vulnerability.
When I looked out the window of the carriage, my resolve returned to me and my fatigue faded. My purpose was clear. I knew exactly what I had to do, and this place and these people were as fortunate a discovery as I could possibly have hoped for. We were approaching the most magnificent stone manor I had ever seen. A shining loch curled around the back of it, extending far into the distance, smooth as a mirror, reflecting the cloudless purple sky. Quaint orchards dotted the landscape with small trees so lovingly tended they might have been topiary sculptures. And beyond them, as far as the eye could see, farmed hills rolled gracefully, striped with rows of crops. Layered shades of earthy browns and greens were so rich in promise and hue they looked as if they’d been painted with an artist’s brush. Sheep and cattle grazed the farthest foothills, tiny dots of red, black and woolly white. If I’d been asked to dream up the most bucolic, heavenly setting I could fathom, even my most grandiose fantasies would not have captured the charm of the scene I looked upon now. Kinloch offered the ideal blend of careful cultivation and rambling nature, as though the combined vigor of the fertile earth and the breezy air had found some sort of perfect alignment here under the skilled hands of the Mackenzie clan. The tall stone wall that circled the keep reached all the way to the far horizon, containing and showcasing the beauty and plenty of the landscape within it.
The manor itself rose impressively from the surrounding splendor. From its highest turrets, flags flapped in the wind. The flag of Scotland. And just below it, one that was unfamiliar to me, emblazoned with a stag’s head. The Mackenzie crest, I guessed.
“I have never, ever seen anything so grand in all my life,” I murmured, aghast. Hamish’s head rested against my shoulder as he dozed.
It was Katriona who responded. “You’re the daughter of a doctor from a prosperous family of Edinburgh. You must have seen grand buildings before.”
My eyes disengaged from the scenery to rest upon Katriona’s face. Her pithy comment stole a degree of beauty from the day, as though a cloud had just passed over the sun. Her impeccable grooming had suffered only minimally from the travel, her dark hair still neatly bound. Light shadows touched the hollows below her eyes, but her complexion was creamy and becoming in the pink light. Her slim, almost willowy figure was wrapped in a tartan shawl. She was not unattractive and if she had possessed even a shred of tenderness she might have been quite lovely. As it was, I couldn’t help feeling slightly amused by her light but undisguised derision. It wouldn’t do to return her rudeness. I was far too experienced with manipulative belittlement to rise to her bait. And despite the hours of sleep, I felt almost more tired than I had along the rougher days of our journey. I already knew Katriona disagreed with her companions about my invitation. She had agreed to it only because Ailie and Christie were kindhearted, a trait she might have admired and aspired to. I smiled politely, remembering my role and my story. I kept my tone mild and pleasant, which was much easier to do if I made a point of speaking to Ailie and Christie as well.
“I’ve seen many grand buildings,” I said. “Castles and cathedrals. Modern hospitals and stately courthouses. Elite schools and domed, acoustically attuned music halls.” Rarely, I didn’t need to add. More often, I’ve deliberated upon the interior décor of a decadent gaming hall, listening to the scuttling roll of a dice across a felt-lined table, feeling the supple glide of the deck of cards I hold in my hands as I shuffle the cards and deal them to unscrupulous men. In my quieter moments, I retreat to an unused private library where I find sanctuary in the pages of old, dusty books as I pursue my treasured ambition of learning, and of teaching: a dream that is as passionate as it is pointless. “Many of them are architecturally designed masterpieces, of course. But they’re all city buildings. I’ve never been out of Edinburgh before now, and I can only marvel at the beauty of the countryside. And this countryside is far more beautiful than I might ever have imagined. It somehow lends a completely different magnificence to a manor than rows of other grand buildings do.”
Christie and Ailie seemed pleased by the observation; they appeared to take my comment about the glory of their home as a compliment, as it was intended.
“You’ve never been out of Edinburgh?” Katriona asked. To her, the information