Chapter 9
Keegan pounded his fist into the stone wall.
He had made it a few paces down the hallway, far enough that his prisoner would not hear him, and turned to face the blue-gray expanse of stacked rocks.
They screamed at him silently, demanding an answer for why he might betray the memory of his parents so gravely.
“Dammit. How could I—Ugh!”
Another assault on the stones sent vibrations rumbling up Keegan’s arm bones, the pain a dull but constant throb.
It only worked a bit to distract him from the flames that licked through his veins.
Willow was an infuriating creature, but one who proved to hold more significant sway over his actions than Keegan was comfortable with.
How could I lose control like that? Completely disregarding everything at stake just to feel that woman’s…Nay. This cannae happen again.
A steady ache claimed his fist and wrist, paired with the burn in his side from stretching his skin too much. Keegan had nearly forgotten about the blade injury. While it wasn’t terrible, he needed to be more cognizant of it—of everything, actually.
He needed something to distract him from the maddening storm of thoughts clogging up his mind, and he was required by his man-at-arms as well.
It seemed the best course of action if he wanted to keep himself on track, focusing on what mattered most instead of the memory of Willow’s body against him.
Soft, pliant, velvety, sweet lips that tasted like summer wine…No, it was not where his mind belonged, and he wouldn’t allow himself to dwell on what had clearly been a mistake.
Proceeding down the hall back to the main floor, Keegan sought out Rodrick who was likely still within the Great Hall.
It was a brisk walk through the corridors, each step a physical reminder of how the laird needed to distance himself from troublesome lassies.
When he arrived at the hall, Rodrick was there as expected and rose to stand as Keegan approached.
“Me laird, thank ye for returnin'. I am at yer service. I ken we can create a suitable plan for the exchange of yer sister.”
Keegan could see the flicker of guilt that flashed over Rodrick’s face.
He had attempted to keep it a bay, steeling his composure so that his own regret wouldn’t remind the laird of how he’d failed in preventing Melissa’s capture that day.
The man had been seriously injured doing his best to protect her, however, and his loyalty had not been questioned.
Keegan nodded.
Rodrick was a good man, and it spoke well of him that the loss of Melissa pained him so. While the failure was serious, Keegan was not about to condemn the man for what had so obviously been a stagged ambush, the likes of which they could not have been prepared for.
“Aye, we can.” Keegan gestured at Rodrick’s shoulder with his head. “Ye look better. I trust me time away has served ye well.”
Rodrick nodded. “I am feeling much better, me laird. I am nearly healed now, and I am ready to assist ye however I can.”
The laird clapped his man-at-arms on the shoulder. “Good man, Rodrick.”
Allowing the moment between them to carry its weight, Keegan held eye contact with the man.
He’d known Rodrick for years, his friend having served at his side for nearly their entire lives.
While Rodrick could be a carefree soul, Keegan knew that he was also extremely loyal.
He would not have let Melissa be taken easily.
“Follow me to the study. We shall discuss matters there.” Keegan nodded, and Rodrick was quick to proceed behind him as the laird navigated the halls toward the place he trusted to provide privacy.
“Ye say she dinnae ken that yer sister was the one taken by Magnus? It is quite a stretch to believe. What do ye make of her words?”
Rodrick’s brows were pinched together as he considered the situation.
Keegan had told him everything about what had gone on since he’d left the castle in search of the lass.
Or, at least, almost everything. The laird was sure to leave out the unimportant aspects of their journey back to the castle as well as what may or may not have gone on in Willow’s chambers.
“I…” Keegan sighed, already exhausted with the entire arrangement.
“I daenae believe the lass is that good a liar to fool me. She dinnae have any reason to think that it might be a woman held prisoner and hadnae seen Melissa at all. Magnus appears to be the same bastard to his kin that he is to us.”
Rodrick nodded, his expression going grim. “All the more reason to get Melissa back home where she belongs as quickly as we can.”
Keegan agreed and reached into his desk to retrieve parchment and ink to draft up a letter to the enemy laird. The exchange would need to progress not only quickly but smoothly if he wished to have his sister returned unharmed.
“What will ye write him?” Rodrick asked.
“That I have possession of Willow Flanagan, sister to Laird McCallum, and demand an equal exchange of the Lady Melissa Aragain for Willow’s safe return.
” Keegan’s hand flew across the page as he penned the letter, his quill scratching gently over the parchment.
“Should he nae be willin' to deliver me sister safely, Magnus will find that his own sister’s protection cannae be guaranteed.”
Rodrick nodded, understanding Keegan’s meaning, even if the words may have been a lie.
While he sees no harm in keeping the lass here, Keegan is not like Willow’s brother.
He assured her that she would remain safe in Brahanne Castle—as would her men earlier—and the laird would not be going back on his word.
Still, writing the words into the parchment, seeing them there as they spelled out that his men might hurt or even kill Willow, made Keegan’s stomach turn.
The thought bothered him in ways he didn’t quite understand, and he was forced to clear his throat and shake himself before continuing with the letter.
“I shall request the exchange take place in a few days' time outside the borders of our lands. An open field will be the best option to ensure no foul play, and the neutral territory will make it more difficult to find some means to take us by surprise.”
“We should be usin' this opportunity to gain information from our prisoner.”
Damon’s voice was a low rumble as he stalked into the study. He was a picture of menace as he approached Keegan, and it was clear as glass that the man was on the warpath.
His brother had never been a gentle soul when it came to revenge or fury. He held a grudge like few Keegan had ever seen and was possibly even more stubborn and overprotective of Melissa than himself, which truly was saying something.
Keegan sighed, finishing the letter with his signature, and folded the parchment to be sealed with his signet.
“I understand ye’re angry, Damon. I daenae put it past ye, but I assure ye there is little to be gained from speakin' at length with Willow. I have heard her these past few days, and Magnus doesnae spill his secrets to her.”
His brother scoffed, a nasty scowl barely held back from his expression. “So says her, but I would be keen to see if she continues her lies when we come at her with sharper means of persuasion.”
Swallowing hard, the laird sealed his missive, granting it to Rodrick so that it could be delivered to Castle McCallum as quickly as possible. With the man-at-arms gone, Keegan addressed his brother.
“There is nay need for that.”
Damon leaned forward onto Keegan’s desk, planting his hands with a thud. “I should like to be the judge of that. Where is our little prisoner?”
“She is within the vacant chambers down the hall from me own.”
His brother’s eyes flared, his mouth dropping open as a look of such rage overcame him that Keegan sat back in his seat.
“How can ye think to leave her alone?! She will flee at the first opportunity, and we will have nae a thing to use against Magnus and ensure Melissa’s return!”
Keegan glared, annoyed with his brother’s impertinence. “Ye will watch yer tone with me, Damon. Willow willnae leave. She is aware of what is at stake.”
His words hit him as Keegan refused to back down against his younger brother.
He had no call to have such faith in Willow, and still, he knew without a doubt that the woman was honorable.
She, too, had given her word that she would come willingly so long as her men were safe, and there, the two of them were at an impasse.
But he would be lying to himself if he said it was only that. Keegan also trusted Willow in a way that he knew he shouldn’t, and her safety and comfort mattered when it most assuredly should not.
That damned woman. I shouldnae care about her comfort. I should be just as mistrusting as Damon. And still…
Keegan had been too near her during their travels and memory of how he’d left her in the room shot to the forefront of his mind. He was too aware of how she’d felt against him, too caught up in the way she looked when she lay on her back beneath him.
Unholy thoughts filled his head, the number of far less honorable things he wished to do to the lass growing by the second. What had she done to him to bewitch him so? Keegan’s hackles rose all the further as his imagination cooked up fantasies that were less than helpful.
“Aware or nae, that woman is a MacCallum. She has information locked behind those pretty lips, and she will be giving it out to us. Ye cannae be so restrained as to nae use this for our advantage, Keegan. The lass should be faced with pain should she nae wish to divulge her secrets.”
Keegan shoved up from his chair, reaching across the table in front of him and seizing Damon by the front of his shirt. He leveled his brother with a dagger-sharp glare, the venom in his blood reaching the heavens.
“Ye willnae so much as touch a hair on Willow’s head. Understood?” Keegan gritted out before catching himself and adding on, “I have given me word, and I willnae see that sullied by yer bloodlust.”
Shoving his brother back, Damon stumbled slightly.
The air was thick enough to slice, and they locked eyes, neither of them looking away or blinking.
Damon was an obstinate man, but the two of them usually saw eye to eye.
When Melissa had been captured, it was true that Keegan had to rein him in some. This seemed different, however.
Fury wafted off the man in waves, and Keegan saw the heart of profound rage beating within his brother’s chest. In reality, the laird would be feeling the same over Melissa’s capture were he not distracted by something he didn’t wish to name. And that was indeed a problem.
But there was no changing Keegan’s mind on this. No harm would come to Willow so long as he drew breath, and he would not be looking at that closer to determine why it mattered so much to him.
“I have delivered yer letter to the courier, me laird. Is there…” But Rodrick’s words fell away as he took in the scene that lay before him.
Silence stifled the room until Damon practically growled at Keegan like a dog.
His brother turned on his heel—his fist clenched tightly to his side—and strode out of the room without so much as a good day.
Keegan had never seen his brother so out of sorts, and he knew it had everything to do with his orders regarding Willow.
He willnae see reason. I cannae trust the man to leave her be.
“Rodrick,” Keegan blinked, turning toward his man-at-arms and careful to keep his expression neutral, “will ye see to Willow as her guard? I will see nay harm come to her while she is under the protection of Castle Brahanne—from anyone.”
Bowing, Rodrick lowered his head before straightening. “Of course, me laird. I will see to it at once.”
He made to leave, and Keegan held out his hand, stopping Rodrick momentarily.
“And she isnae to leave the castle. Should ye see anything of concern, or should anyone try to remove ye from yer post, bring it to me immediately.”
“As ye wish, me laird.”
He bowed once more and then left Keegan alone in his study.
It was impossible to understand the chaos of feeling and instinct that churned his mind like butter.
The laird slumped down into his seat, hanging his head in his hands.
He’d rarely been so bewildered about a course of action that lay ahead of him, not since he was a young lad and his parents still lived.
And Keegan did not enjoy it in the slightest.