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It was hard to be brave when she was staring up at a hulking warrior who was clearly displeased, but her pride wouldn’t allow her to throw herself at his feet and beg for his mercy, even if she thought it would have been the best idea. No, she’d face Darach Robertson and survive, even if he could squash her like a bug and looked to be in a mood to do so. She wouldn’t cower. She wouldn’t cower at all if she had anything to say about it.

If the prophecy was going to be fulfilled this day, she’d die with pride.

“Ye will tell me about yer home and what ye ken about yer faither’s dungeon.”

Darach’s voice had a cold edge to it, but Jane shook her head, reminding herself of her vow to be courageous.

Darach frowned even harder, his eyes flashing darkly. “It wouldnae be a good idea tae defy me, Jane.”

There was a note of frustration in his voice that she might have found amusing if her stomach hadn’t been boiling in worry. So,thiswas what he was going to question her about—how to free the fool who dared to go into her father’s study.

As if I will tell ye a thing.

Yet, she felt that she might be sick on his boots from the nerves in her stomach.

“I didnae defy ye,my laird,” she said in the evenest voice she could muster.

“Then give me the information I seek. And do it now,” he said with a cold softness.

“I will nae.” Her voice cracked, and a sick feeling rose in her throat.

“Say what ye ken!” Morven thundered from behind his brother, approaching her like a storm in a darkened sky.

Lorna, who could clearly stand still no longer, rescued her. The woman rushed forward, squeezing between Jane and Morven. Jane let out a low gasp,instinctively wrapped her arms around her.

Oh, how she missed the comfort of her own room…

Lorna turned in her grasp and stared up at her brothers, who looked to be battling extreme shock and burning impatience.

“Leave her alone!” Lorna exclaimed. “She’s hurt and tired! Probably she dinnae ken anything about her faither’s affairs. Nae sensible person would help ye barge intae their home, let alone give ye information about how tae do it secretly.”

Darach nodded slowly. “This is nae the way; ye’re right. I gave my word that she would be safe from harm,” Darach said. “And I never break my word.”

Morven looked down at Jane, anger still written all over his face. His mouth worked as the vein in his neck bulged.

“Morven,” Lorna added, “the lass is sorely in need of rest. A hot bath wouldn’t be out of the question.”

Surprised by Lorna’s support but more grateful than she could possibly express, Jane chanced another look at the laird only to see him gaping at her.

“Rest? Bath?The future of the Highlands might rest on whatever happens to Kenn in the next few days, and all anyone can suggest is that we give the daughter of the man who put him in a dungeon abath?”

Morven looked close to exploding. Jane stepped back, and Lorna accommodated her by moving aside so she could put distance between herself and Morven.

“She didn’t imprison Kenn,” Darach said evenly. “And she might yet be the one who helps us get him back if she decides tae cooperate. We’ll take care of her. That’s my decision.”

Morven’s expression wavered, and he stared at her. He looked torn, as if he wanted to demand that she help them but was powerless to do so. He snapped his lips shut and took a step back.

His muscles bulged in his arms and neck, and he took several breaths as if he were working to keep his patience. She could understand why he looked at her with such mistrust and hostility. Their friend was in her father’s dungeons, and he was important to the Jacobite uprising.

It didn’t, however, mean she would cooperate.

Gathering her nerve and hoping she didn’t sound boastful, she looked the laird in the eye. “If ye let me go home, my laird, my faither will be most appreciative of the aid ye have provided and possibly release yer man. Just give me a horse and maybe some food, and I’ll be on my way and nae longer a bother.”

“Ach, Laird! A horse and food!” Morven looked away from her and turned to the wall, muttering curses.

Darach lowered his head until those dark eyes scared the breath right out of her.

“Ye ken well ye aren’t going anywhere, lass.”


Tags: Fiona Faris Historical