Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
Escape.
The first plan didn’t work, but the second would and the way to the stables was clear. No guards. No stablemaster. She didn’t care what he said about double guards, she’s doing this whether he liked it or not.
She darted across the open space, her borrowed slippers silent on stone, and slipped through the stable doors. The familiar smell of hay and horse wrapped around her, bringing unexpected comfort. That, at least, was something she knew.
The horses shifted in their stalls, soft whickers greeting her presence. She moved past them, searching for one that looked strong enough to carry her the distance to Foulis.
A black stallion caught her eye. Massive, powerful, with intelligent eyes that watched her approach.
"Easy," she whispered, reaching for his bridle. "Easy now."
Her fingers had just closed around the leather when a hand clamped over her mouth.
Panic exploded through her. She thrashed wildly, her elbow connecting with solid muscle, her feet kicking back against shins. But the grip was iron, unyielding, and she was being turned, pressed back against the stable wall with her attacker's body caging her in.
"I knew ye were nae givin’ this up."
Tòrr’s voice cut through her panic like a blade, low and rough against the night.
His hand fell away from her mouth, but he didn’t step back.
Instead, he planted his arms on either side of her head, caging her in.
His chest brushed hers with every shallow breath, the heat of him crowding the cool air between them.
His green eyes burned in the dim light, not just with fury, but something darker, heavier. It coiled low in her stomach, as dangerous as it was undeniable.
"Let me go!" She shoved at his chest, but he didn't budge.
"Where dae ye think ye're goin', lass?" He asked, his voice low and dangerous.
"Away from here! Away from ye!" She tried to duck under his arm, but he shifted, blocking her escape. "Let me past!"
"Nae until ye answer me question." His voice was still quiet. "Where were ye goin'?"
"What daes it matter? Ye cannae keep me here by force!"
"Ye think?" He leaned closer, and she could see the anger radiating off him in waves. "Ye're in me castle, surrounded by me men, with nowhere tae run. I'd say I can keep ye anywhere I damn well please."
"Ye're a brute!" She shoved at him again, harder this time. "A tyrant, tryin’ tae trap me, just like me faither!"
His jaw clenched. "I'm naethin' like yer faither."
"Arenae ye? Trappin' me here, decidin' me entire future without carin' what I want?" Her voice rose with each word. "How are ye different?" she shouted, striking his chest with her fist.
"Stop fightin' me!” He caught her wrists as she struck at his chest the second time, her fists bouncing off muscle without making an impact.
"Never!" She twisted in his grip, but he pinned her hands between them, holding her immobile. "I'll fight ye every day fer the rest of me life if I have tae!"
"Then ye'll have a miserable existence, because I'm nae lettin' ye go! It’s nae a choice."
They were both breathing hard now, their faces inches apart, fury crackling between them like lightning before a storm. Liliane could feel the heat of his body, the strength in the hands that held her wrists captive, the barely leashed anger in every line of his frame.
"Please." The word came out broken, desperate. "Please just let me go home. I want tae go back tae me sister."
Something flickered in his eyes. "I cannae dae that."
"Then let me write tae her. Let me send word that I'm alive, that I'm still thinkin’ about her."
"Nay."
The flat refusal hit her like a slap. "Why nae?"
"Because ye'll use it tae seek help. Tae plan another escape. Tae send word tae someone who might try tae retrieve ye." His green eyes bored into hers. "I'm nae that foolish, lass."
"Foolish? Ye think keepin' me from me own sister is wise?"
"I think it's necessary." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. " The sooner ye accept that ye’re stayin’ here, the easier this will be fer both of us."
"I'll never accept it!" She wrenched against his hold, but he was immovable. "Ye can force me through a ceremony, ye can lock me in that chamber, but ye'll never have me willin’ cooperation in any of this!"
"I dinnae need yer willin' cooperation. I just need ye here."
"Fer what? So ye can parade me around as yer trophy? Proof that ye outwitted me faither?"
"So I can keep ye safe from the men who would actually harm ye!" His voice rose to match hers. "Ross, the other man that bid fer ye, would have beaten ye, have ye nay idea of his reputation? At least here ye'll be protected!"
"Protected?" She laughed bitterly. "Is that what ye call this? Ye're nay better!"
"Arenae I?" He released one of her wrists to cup her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Have I struck ye? Starved ye? Threatened ye with violence?"
"Ye tied me up!"
"Tae keep ye from killin' yerself roaming around in the Highland winter at night!" His thumb brushed her jaw, "There's a difference between protection and abuse, lass. Learn to see it."
"The only difference is how ye justify it tae yerself." She jerked her chin from his grip. "Now let me go."
"Where will ye go?" He didn't move. "Back tae Foulis on foot? It's a three-day ride, and winter's comin'. Ye'd freeze before ye made it halfway." His voice hardened again. "Ye're stayin' here, Liliane. Accept it."
"Never."
They stared at each other in tense silence, both breathing hard, neither willing to yield. Then, with a sound of frustration, Liliane wrenched free from his remaining grip and shoved past him toward the stable doors.
"Where dae ye think ye're goin'?" he called after her.
"Back tae me prison!" she threw over her shoulder. "Since that's what ye've decided me life will be!"
"Liliane."
But she was already gone, storming across the courtyard with tears of frustration burning in her eyes. Behind her, she could hear his footsteps following, unhurried but relentless.
She burst through the keep's entrance and nearly collided with Daemon, Tòrr’s brother.
"Careful, lass," he said, steadying her with one hand.
"Sorry," she muttered, trying to move past him.
But Tòrr had caught up, his presence filling the corridor behind her. "Daemon."
The dark-haired man's eyes flicked between them, taking in Liliane's disheveled state and Tòrr's grim expression. "Braither."
"Walk with me."
It wasn't a request. Daemon fell into step beside Tòrr, and Liliane heard their low voices as she fled toward the stairs.
"Post guards outside her chamber," Tòrr said quietly. "Two men. Rotatin’ shifts through the night."
"She tried tae leave?"
"She made it tae the stables."
"Christ. She's persistent, I'll give her that."
"She's desperate." Tòrr's voice was weary. "And desperate people dae foolish things."
Liliane didn't hear Daemon's response. She was already climbing the stairs, her legs shaking with exhaustion and emotion. When she reached her chamber, she slammed the door behind her and leaned against it, pressing her hands to her face.
She'd failed. Again.
And now there would be guards, and tomorrow there would be a wedding, and soon she would be truly trapped with no hope of escape or rescue.
Outside her door, she heard footsteps approach and stop.
The low murmur of men's voices, receiving orders.
Then silence. She moved to the window and stared out at the moonlit landscape beyond the castle walls.
Somewhere out there, Nessa was alone. Waiting for a sister who couldn't reach her, couldn't protect her, couldn't even send word that she was alive.
"I'm sorry," she whispered to the night. "I'm so sorry."
But the darkness had no answers, and the walls of her chamber felt like they were closing in with every breath she took.
In the corridor below, Tòrr stood with Daemon, his jaw tight with frustration.
"Ye're sure about this?" Daemon asked quietly. "Guardin' her chamber like a prisoner?"
"She'll try again if I dinnae." Tòrr ran a hand through his hair. "She's determined tae reach her sister, and she daesnae care if it kills her in the attempt."
"Then perhaps ye should let her send word. One letter couldnae hurt."
"One letter is all she'd need tae arrange an escape." Tòrr shook his head. "I cannae risk it."
“And if her faither moves against the sister while we have the elder?”
The question made Tòrr’s stomach tighten. He hadn’t even known the lass had a sister until today. Why did Liliane cling so fiercely to the girl? What was it about her that made this marriage feel like more than just a political snare to escape?
“I’ll… look intae it,” he said finally, his voice measured. “Find out what can be done. And if necessary, I will let her write a letter and demand tae read it afore sending it.”
Daemon arched a brow. “Will ye truly? Or will ye offer it as a way tae keep her quiet?”
Tòrr didn’t answer right away. He wasn’t sure himself, not yet. But the thought of Liliane’s panic in the stables lingered with him, sharper than he’d like.
"Daes it matter?"
"It might. If ye're makin' promises ye dinnae intend tae keep."
"I intend tae keep any promise I make tae her." Tòrr's voice was firm. "Includin’ the one about marriage. Now, I need ye tae take five men and ride near Munro lands. Quietly. Nay colors, nay announcement."
"Why?"
"Because Munro may try tae reclaim his daughter. And if he daes, I want advance warnin’." Tòrr met his brother's eyes. "Can ye dae that?"
"Aye." Daemon studied him for a long moment. "Ye're in deep with this one, are ye nae?"
"I'm daein' what's necessary fer the clan."
"If ye say so." But Daemon's tone suggested he didn't believe it for a moment.
After his brother left, Tòrr stood alone in the corridor, staring up at the stairs that led to Liliane's chamber. He could still feel the ghost of her pulse racing under his fingers, still see the fire and fear warring in her eyes.
She thought him no better than her father. A brute, a tyrant. Maybe she was right.
But right or wrong, she was his now. And he would do whatever it took to keep her safe, even if she hated him for it.