Chapter 11
Brice watched Blackwood sip his Scotch.
His body was still warm from the feel of Eleanor in his arms. It was something he would never forget. He’d instructed her to keep the door barred and to open it only to him.
He’d also instructed Hannah to take all of the female servants out of the great hall. Blackwood and his men were being served by Brice’s youngest warriors, who were none too happy to be serving English soldiers.
“Sutherland.” Blackwood leaned back in his chair and observed him with those glittering eyes. “I don’t recall that you fought at Culloden. On either side.”
“I didn’t raise arms against the English, if that’s what ye’re asking.
” He’d not joined the Jacobite cause, nor the English cause, but he’d not forbidden his men to raise arms in either.
A few had fought at Culloden for the Scots.
A quick look at his men who still ringed the room confirmed that at least three of them were here.
He’d also lost a few warriors in the battle.
Their absence was felt keenly, but Brice was not about to mention any of this.
“I thank you for your hospitality,” Blackwood said. “We’ll stay tonight and will most probably leave tomorrow to continue our search.”
Brice didn’t want these men under his roof one more moment, but there wasn’t much he could say, so he nodded.
Blackwood’s eyes narrowed. “We’ll stay in the area for a time.”
Is that a threat or a warning?
“Sutherland land is a fair bit far north for a lass to be finding herself wandering,” Brice said.
Blackwood’s lips thinned. His fingers drummed on the scarred wood of the table. “She lost her escort.”
Brice took a sip of his Scotch and studied the man, who was clearly agitated. “I assume you had the man flogged for his lack of attention.”
“Indeed.”
“If someone I loved was missing due to another’s negligence, I would be tempted to throw him in the dungeon.”
“Rest assured that he will not see the light of day for a long while.”
And did ye manacle him as well? Brice bit his tongue to keep from asking. The longer he spoke to Blackwood, the less he liked him. He just wanted the man gone from his home and away from Eleanor.
He could only imagine what she was doing in her chamber. Probably hiding in the corner with her dagger. She would not sleep tonight, that was for sure. Not with these men under his roof.
Not for the first time, he wondered what Blackwood had done to her. How had she come to cross paths with such a wretched man? She had a story to tell, and he would hear it. Soon.
—
Eleanor couldn’t stand one more minute in her room, hiding like a coward.
Against Sutherland’s wishes, she crept out of her room and headed for the kitchen via the back servants’ stairs.
Sutherland would have her head if he discovered what she was doing, but she had to know what was happening, because her imagination was conjuring all manner of horrid things—from Blackwood’s men stabbing Sutherland’s men in their sleep to Blackwood torturing Sutherland.
She shivered at the image of Sutherland’s strong warrior’s body hanging from his manacled wrists as Blackwood put the whip to him.
Not many could withstand the whipping for long.
She knew because she’d witnessed it numerous times.
She entered the kitchen to find the cook muttering about the “damn English.” He looked up at her and scowled.
“What’re ye doing here? Did ye no’ go with Hannah and the rest of the lasses?
” He waved her away with a hand clutching a spoon.
“Off with ye, now. Those English see ye, and ye’ll regret it. ”
Eleanor froze. Did he know her predicament?
Did he know that Blackwell was here searching for her?
No. He couldn’t possibly. He’d mentioned Hannah and the others.
A quick look around confirmed that there were no serving girls here, only boys and the younger warriors entering and exiting with food and ale.
So Sutherland had instructed the women to disappear.
That was smart. The English thought little of the Scottish, especially the women, and considered them theirs for the taking.
She shuddered at the thought and took the stairs to the great hall, where she peeked through the doorway.
She almost wished she hadn’t been so bold as to come down here, for all of her fears were realized, and they were sitting in front of Brice Sutherland.
Blackwood was impeccably dressed in his red coat with blue facings and his buff-colored waistcoat and breeches.
She’d never seen him dressed otherwise and never less than perfectly.
His thinning hair was brushed straight back from his forehead.
He was a handsome man. Or at least she had thought so when they first met.
But she had soon learned the evil that lurked inside him, and his good looks had soured for her.
Now she thought his eyes were a little too close to his nose.
She remembered that they were dark, nearly black.
Reminding her of the rats that scurried through her cell.
He was sipping from a glass, as was Sutherland, and they were conversing. Blackwood seemed at ease, resting rather loosely in the chair. Sutherland appeared to be at ease, but Eleanor could see the tense line of his shoulders and his alert gaze, which swept the room every few moments.
But it was Blackwood who Eleanor watched with a thudding heart.
She’d sworn to herself that she would never be taken by him again, and she swore now that she would hold true to that promise.
She would jump into the churning sea that backed up against Castle Dornach before she would allow Blackwood to touch her again.
Her hatred boiled like thick sludge through her veins.
This man who sat so arrogantly in Sutherland’s great hall, as if it were his due, had torn her life apart and irrevocably changed her.
Before meeting him, Eleanor had lived a cosseted life, well loved and well protected by first her father and then her husband.
Traveling to Scotland with Charles had been an exciting adventure. She’d never thought overly much about why they were going, other than there was to be a battle. In her heart she knew that with Charles, she would be perfectly safe. Oh, how naive she had been.
And oh, how wrong she had been. He had not been perfectly safe. It had not been the battle that had killed him. He’d never even gotten that far. It had been Eleanor who had killed him.
Sutherland’s gaze raked the room again and came to a stop on her. Eleanor ducked out of the doorway and pressed her back against the wall.
Oh, no.
She pushed away from the wall and half walked, half ran through the kitchen to the servants’ stairs. She was brought up short when her arm was grabbed from behind and she was swung around to confront the angry blue eyes of Sutherland.
“Do ye want him to see ye?” he growled.
She shook her head. They were standing so close that she had to tilt her head back to see him, then wished she hadn’t. He was furious. She was certain she’d never seen him this angry before.
He leaned close to her, crowding her. His eyes were flat, his teeth clenched. “What were ye thinking?”
She pointed to her eyes and then toward the great hall.
Sutherland’s eyes widened. “Ye wanted to see him? Are ye daft?”
She pressed her lips together. He didn’t understand.
He backed away a step and considered her thoughtfully. “Are ye happy now that ye saw him?”
She hesitated, then shook her head. No, she wasn’t happy at all that she’d seen Blackwood. Terrified, yes. Angry, yes. But not happy.
“Ye need to stay where I put ye, lass,” Brice said softly. “ ’Tis for yer own safety. I do no’ know where his men will be. If they see ye, there’s no’ much I can do to protect ye. If what Blackwood says is right, then he has every right to ye.”
She yanked her arm away, both angry and chagrined that she’d put him in this position. “Not betrothed,” she said, her voice rasping harshly against her throat.
He looked around the kitchen. Cook was watching them closely, his spoon dripping all over the floor. The two young servants were standing side by side, their eyes wide, and the young men he’d instructed to serve were frozen in place as if they didn’t want to catch his attention.
Sutherland took her elbow and moved them out of earshot. “So ye say. But he says otherwise,” he whispered.
“Not.” She slammed her fist into her palm to emphasize her point. Blackwood could say all he wanted, but that didn’t mean it was true.
Sutherland’s expression softened. “I believe ye. But, Ele— Lass, it does no’ matter what ye say. He can twist anything to his advantage.”
She well knew that. Oh, how well she knew that. She’d been stupid to come down here, but she’d had to see for herself.
“James,” Sutherland barked over his shoulder. “Take her to her chambers.”
Eleanor clutched the sleeve of his shirt. “You come,” she said.
Sutherland’s brows went up. “As much as I would love to come to yer chamber with ye, I canno’.” He grimaced. “I must entertain our guest.”
She tightened her hold on his sleeve when James appeared to escort her to her chambers. “Bad,” she whispered. Her throat was raw from all the talking she’d done. Never could she have imagined that pushing so few words out of her throat would hurt so much.
“Oh, I know he’s bad,” Sutherland said bitterly. He gently pushed her toward James. “Go. Do no’ make me worry about ye the rest of this night.”
Eleanor went meekly with James, not wanting to cause any more trouble than she already had.
Her curiosity had been assuaged. She’d seen Blackwood.
He was looking for her. Sutherland had said so.
And now she knew the truth. She would never be free of the man, no matter where she lived, be it Scotland or England.
That meant she had to go somewhere else. Somewhere far outside Blackwood’s considerable reach. If she didn’t, then Sutherland would suffer the same fate her Charles had, and she refused to have another good man’s death on her hands.