Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Eva chose a simple gown fit for walking the village lanes. As she fastened the last tie, there came a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Eva called, smoothing her skirt.
Amelie entered with a bright smile. “I’m ready for our wee outin’ into the village,” she said cheerfully.
Eva laughed softly. “I’m glad of it, truly, I need a bit of air and a long walk.”
Amelie moved to help her with her cloak, settling the wool over Eva’s shoulders with practiced care.
“Ye look lovely, miss,” she said, tugging the clasp into place.
Eva smiled at her reflection in the small mirror. “I daenae feel like a lady of the castle this day,” she replied, “just a lass goin’ shoppin’.”
They walked together through the corridors and out into the courtyard, the sounds of horses and work filling the air.
A tall guard stood waiting, his posture straight and respectful.
“Mornin’, miss, name's Neal,” he said with a nod. “The Laird bid me escort ye.”
Eva inclined her head politely. “Thank ye, Neal, we’ll nae be long.”
The road into the village wound gently downhill, the castle shrinking behind them as stone cottages came into view.
Eva felt lighter with each step. Amelie chatted easily at her side, pointing out familiar faces and waving to villagers who greeted them warmly.
Eva felt a small swell of pride knowing these were her people.
They stopped before a narrow shop with a painted wooden sign swinging above the door. Inside, the air smelled of lavender and dye, bolts of cloth lining the walls in neat rows. Baskets of ribbon spilled across a long table, colors ranging from soft cream to deep heather purple.
Eva’s eyes widened. “Saints preserve us,” she murmured, “it’s like a rainbow’s burst inside.”
Amelie laughed and reached for a coil of pale blue ribbon. “This would suit ye fine,” she said, holding it against Eva’s sleeve.
Eva shook her head, smiling. “It’s bonnie, aye, but I was thinkin’ somethin’ warmer, maybe green, like the hills.”
Neal lingered outside the door.
Eva lifted a length of soft green ribbon, running it through her fingers.
“Jason will like this one for tyin’ the bundle of rocks he collects,” she said thoughtfully.
Amelie leaned closer. “Ye spoil that wee brother of yers,” she teased.
Eva’s smile softened. “He’s had little enough joy, if ribbon and tarts make him grin, I’ll buy the whole shop.”
The shopkeeper wrapped the ribbon carefully as Eva counted out the coins.
“Weddin’ soon, is it?” the woman asked kindly.
Eva felt a flutter in her chest but nodded. “Aye, soon enough, God willin’.” She took the parcel, feeling as though it held more than ribbon alone.
Eva stepped out of the shop with the ribbon tucked beneath her arm, the sunlight warm upon her face.
“Looks like Neal has company,” Amelie teased.
Eva looked toward the well and saw Neal speaking with a young maid with rosy cheeks.
Eva paused mid-step, her brow furrowing as a sound reached her ears. It was thin and broken, carried on the breeze like a wounded bird’s call.
“Amelie,” Eva said softly, “do ye hear that, ’tis a child cryin’.”
Amelie stilled beside her, listening as the sound came again, sharper now.
“Aye,” she said, unease slipping into her voice, “I hear it plain.”
Eva turned toward the narrow space between two cottages, the cry tugging hard at her chest. “We cannae ignore that,” Eva said, already moving, “it might be hurt.”
They followed the sound behind the cottages, the stones damp and mossy beneath their shoes. The village noises faded, replaced by the close hush of laundry lines and stacked firewood.
“Miss, we should fetch Neal,” Amelie whispered, her hand brushing Eva’s sleeve.
Eva shook her head. “Nay, it’ll only take a moment, just a bairn needin’ help. This is me village after all. I've always wandered its paths alone.”
The crying seemed closer now, then abruptly cut off. Eva slowed, her heart beginning to hammer, a prickle crawling up her spine.
“Anyone there?” she called, her voice trembling despite herself.
Amelie stepped nearer. “This feels wrong,” she murmured, fear plain in her eyes.
A shadow shifted, then another, and suddenly men stepped from behind the cottages like ghosts from stone. One man in particular moved toward her. His black hair dusted with grey at his sixty years of age.
“Who are ye? What do ye want?” Eva's voice shook.
“The name's Jack Welsh, and I want ye, lass,” the man said.
Jack’s guards closed in, steel flashing as they moved.
Eva stumbled backward, clutching the ribbon to her chest as if it might protect her.
“Take them,” Jack barked, his voice sharp as a blade.
Amelie cried out, “Eva!”
Footsteps thundered, and Neal burst into the space with his sword drawn.
“Stay back!” he shouted, planting himself between Eva and the men.
For a heartbeat, hope flared bright and desperate in Eva’s chest. Jack sneered. “Get him,” he said calmly.
The clash was swift and brutal, metal ringing against metal in the narrow yard. Eva could scarcely follow it, her hands shaking as she watched. One guard feinted, another lunged, and Neal staggered. A blade drove through him, and Neal fell without a sound.
Eva’s scream rose again, raw and broken, as Neal collapsed to the ground. Blood darkened his tunic, spreading fast against the stone. She took a step toward him, then froze as hands seized her arms.
“Nay,” she sobbed, “please, he was only doin’ his duty.”
Amelie rushed forward, her face pale with fury and fear. “Leave her be!” she cried, striking at one of the guards.
A blow caught her hard, and she crumpled to the ground, her body still.
“Amelie!” Eva shouted, panic flooding her voice.
Jack stepped closer, looming over Eva.
“Quiet now,” he said, almost gently, “ye’ll do as ye’re told.”
Eva’s chest heaved as she stared at Amelie lying unmoving, at Neal’s lifeless form beside them. Terror wrapped tight around her heart, and for the first time since coming to the castle, she truly understood how cruel the world beyond its walls could be.
“Let me go,” she cried, her voice breaking as panic surged through her.
Jack caught her wrist, his fingers bruising as iron, and dragged her back. “Daenae be foolish, lass,” he said coldly, “ye’ll only make this worse.”
She kicked and fought again, wild with terror, her skirts tangling as she tried to flee toward Amelie’s fallen form. Jack nodded once, sharp and deliberate, and one of his guards hauled Amelie upright by the arm.
Amelie groaned softly, her head lolling, barely conscious. “Stop,” Jack warned, “or I’ll finish her where she stands.”
Eva froze, horror flooding her as she looked at Amelie’s pale face.
“Nay,” Eva sobbed, tears spilling freely, “daenae touch her, I beg ye.”
Jack leaned close, his breath sour as he spoke low in her ear. “Then ye’ll do as I say, quietly and without fuss.”
Her shoulders sagged as the fight drained from her, despair settling heavy in her chest.
Eva nodded once, trembling from head to toe, and whispered, “Aye… I’ll go.”
Jack straightened, satisfied, and gestured for his men to bind her hands. As the rope bit into her wrists, Eva swallowed a cry and prayed silently that Amelie would live.
They lifted her onto a horse as though she were no more than a sack of grain, the world swaying beneath her as the animal moved.
Eva cast one last desperate glance toward the village, her heart shattering as it disappeared behind the cottages.
The guards mounted quickly, and Jack took the reins of her horse himself.
“On we go,” he said flatly, and they rode out at a hard pace.
The forest swallowed them whole, the trees closing in as light thinned to green shadows.
Eva’s arms ached where the rope cut her skin, and every jolt of the horse sent pain through her body.
She tried to steady her breathing, though fear pressed tight around her ribs.
The sounds of birds and wind felt wrong, too calm for the terror pounding inside her.
They reached a small clearing where a camp already stood, rough tents and a low fire pit ringed with stones. Eva’s heart sank further at the sight, the cruel proof that this had been planned.
Jack dismounted and hauled her down none too gently.
“Ye’ll stay here,” he said, “and ye’ll behave.”
Eva lifted her chin, shaking despite herself. “Why are ye doin’ this?” she demanded, her voice trembling but fierce.
Jack’s mouth twisted as he turned to face her fully. “Because Connor took me son,” he said, his eyes dark, “and now I take somethin’ of his.”
Her breath caught painfully in her throat.
“Michael?” she whispered, shock crashing through her in waves.
Jack nodded once. “Aye, Michael,” he said, bitterness sharp on his tongue, “the boy yer Laird stole from me.”
Eva stared at him, her mind reeling as pieces fell together in dreadful clarity.
“He’s nae stolen,” she said faintly, “he’s Connor’s brother.”
Jack laughed harshly. “That’s what he’d have ye believe,” he snapped, turning away. “But ye’ll serve well enough as payment.”
She was pushed toward one of the tents, her legs weak beneath her. Eva stumbled inside, the dim space smelling of smoke and damp wool, and sank to her knees.
Tears streamed down her face as she pressed her bound hands to her mouth to stifle a sob. In the darkness, her thoughts clung desperately to Connor, praying he would find her before it was too late.
Her mind raced, searching for any opportunity. She called out, trying to sound calm, “Water. Ye daenae want me faintin’, do ye?”
Jack’s eyes narrowed as he entered. “I said quiet!” he barked, towering over her.
Eva flinched slightly but forced herself to look him in the eyes. “I need water, Jack. Aye, just a sip, or ye’ll have me cough and choke all night.”
Jack growled but handed her a flask. Eva’s fingers closed around it, her mind calculating. As he bent to snatch it back, she kicked him hard in the gut. He doubled over, a grunt escaping him, and she bolted.
Branches whipped her face as she ran through the forest, her heart hammering.
“Help! Someone!” she screamed, desperate for anyone to hear.
Jack’s enraged shout tore through the trees, “Catch her! Get the lass!”
Two guards sprinted after her, but Eva’s adrenaline kept her moving. She ducked behind a tree, then rolled to dodge a grasping hand. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, weaving through the thick undergrowth, but the forest was alive with the shouts of her pursuers.
A hand grabbed her shoulder, spinning her around.
“Got ye, ye stubborn lass!” one guard snarled.
Eva struggled, kicking and biting, but they forced her to the ground.
Jack appeared moments later, fury etched in every line of his face.
“Daenae think ye can outsmart me, Eva!” he roared. “Ye have only yerself to blame for this!”
With a swift motion, they dragged back to the camp. Jack tied her to a tree at the camp’s center. The ropes cut into her wrists as she was tied high, the firelight flickering over her face.
Eva gasped for breath, her chest rising and falling quickly. “I daenae care what ye do! I will escape yet!” she shouted, glaring at Jack.
He laughed, a low, cruel sound that echoed in the clearing. “Ye’ll learn the cost of defiance tonight, lass. Ye could have had a roof over yer head in the tent, but now ye will stay out here.”
Eva hung her head for a moment, sweat and tears mixing on her cheeks. Her heart still burned with rage, and though her body ached, her spirit remained unbroken. Every muscle in her body screamed to fight, to run, to be free.
“Connor,” she whispered fiercely, “I’ll hold on for ye. I’ll nae give up.”
Jack leaned closer one last time, his shadow casting over her.
“Ye’re lucky I daenae leave ye for the wild dogs,” he said.
Eva’s eyes narrowed, filled with defiance, though her wrists ached from the rough rope.
“Ye’ll nae win,” she muttered through clenched teeth, “nae now, nae ever.”