Page 64 of A Forbidden Night with a Scot
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Samuel opened his eyes only to find himself in a small, dark room, illuminated by nothing but a few torches on the walls. There were no windows there, and no light came in through any cracks in the walls, so he could only assume he was underground, in an entirely unfamiliar place.
He couldn’t remember what, precisely, had happened. The last thing he could recall was his decision to go after Alicia once Gavin had taken her and her sisters away. The more he tried to remember, the more difficult the task seemed, as his head throbbed with pain, the headache spreading from the top all the way to his neck. When he tried to move, he found that his limbs felt heavy, almost immovable, but then he glanced down and saw that he was tied to a chair with a rope, the bindings so tight that they scraped against his skin, eating into his flesh.
Something was tapping against his feet. It was what had woken him, he realized, and he lifted his gaze to see none other than Colm MacLaine there, kicking at him rhythmically. The manonly stopped when he saw Samuel was awake and gave him a wicked smile, one that emphasized his large, sharp incisors.
He had always reminded Samuel of a beast. He was only a few years older than Samuel and he gave off an air of savagery.
“Finally,” said MacLaine, his pale blue eyes sparkling with satisfaction in the half-light. “Yer awake.”
“I should have kent ye would try somethin’ like this,” Samuel said, his voice raw from how dry his throat was. “Ye wouldnae dare attack me castle, so ye did what a coward would dae.”
MacLaine’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Samuel, his former mirth now replaced with displeasure. If Samuel was going to die in that room, he would first make sure to anger MacLaine as much as he could, just so his death wouldn’t be a complete waste.
“Well, I have ye here either way,” said MacLaine as he took a deep, steeling breath.
“Ach, I suppose that is true,” said Samuel. “An’ why, precisely, am I here?”
He had a vague idea why, of course. MacLaine hated him, and he had hated him for a long time, but Samuel’s death would not bring him any real reward. There would be another Laird MacLachlan before MacLaine could attack, and even if therewasn’t, Nerian and his council would know what to do to fend him off.
The only thing he could gain was a personal sense of satisfaction.
“Dae ye truly nae ken?” MacLaine asked, as he dragged another wooden chair from the far corner of the room closer to Samuel and sat down across from him, steeling his fingers under his chin. He looked put together as always, his black hair shining under the incandescence of the torches, but under his facade, Samuel could see the weariness of many sleepless nights, as though MacLaine had been agonizing over this very moment for days. “Ye took Thomasina from me.”
Samuel couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped him. MacLaine’s claim was simply so ridiculous that he didn’t know what else to do. “Ye took Thomasina from me,” he pointed out, looking him straight in the eyes. “She was me wife an’ ye killed her. Ye took her from me an’ ye took me son from me.”
“It wouldnae have happened if ye had let me marry her, as I was supposed tae dae in the first place,” said MacLaine, a low growl brewing in his chest. “She was supposed tae be me wife. Mine!”
“She didnae want ye.”
It was the simple truth. Thomasina had never wanted MacLaine, and when she was faced with the choice of marrying him or marrying Samuel, she had picked Samuel. She had loved neither of them and Samuel’s offer for her hand had not been quite as good as MacLaine’s, but she had always known which of the twowould give her a good life. She chose a gentler man over a better dowry, and MacLaine had never recovered from the blow on his pride.
“Who kens what poison ye whispered intae her ear.” MacLaine gave a humorless chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. “It was all yer fault. Had it nae been fer ye, she would have never died like that!”
“Ye’re the one who murdered her!” Samuel roared, his rage suddenly bubbling over. He couldn’t keep listening to MacLaine. He had loved Thomasina dearly, if not passionately, and he adored their son. All he had ever wanted was to see the two of them happy, even if their marriage was nothing but a convenience.
But MacLaine had stolen all that from him. He had stolen everything from Thomasina, too, who never got to see her son grow up and become a man. She never even got to live her life, she had died so young.
“She was never meant tae die!”
Samuel blinked, uncomprehending. So did MacLaine, seemingly surprised by his own admission.
“She was never meant tae die,” he repeated, this time quietly. “Yer son was the target, ye fool. I wanted Thomasina fer meself an’ I was goin’ tae make her me wife after yer son was gone. But nay, nay, she was desperate tae save him. She jumped intae thewater even when she kent there was naething she could dae an’ she…”
MacLaine didn’t finish his sentence. None of it changed how Samuel felt, though. If anything, it only enraged him further to learn of MacLaine’s real plan, disgust creeping to the back of his throat and choking him.
How could a man be so cruel? How could he care about no one but himself?
“After her death, I needed time tae make a better plan tae avenge her,” MacLaine said, as though he still believed it was all Samuel’s fault. “An’ so I toiled an’ toiled an’ in the end, ye gave me the solution.”
Samuel said nothing. He only stared at MacLaine, knowing that he would simply keep talking the more Samuel remained silent, and at the same time, he twisted his hands behind his back, hoping that he could get the rope loose around his wrists. It was difficult to keep his expression from showing any signs of distress; the rope cut into his skin and the burn of it was incessant, but not entirely unbearable. He simply clenched his jaw, hoping it would seem as though he was simply furious with MacLaine.
“I’ve been watchin’ ye fer months,” MacLaine said, leaning a little closer. “I’ve been trackin’ all yer movements, everythin’ ye’ve been doin’. Imagine me surprise when ye handed me the plan on a silver platter.”
Samuel couldn’t imagine how he could have possibly done such a thing, but once again, he didn’t speak. Instead, he waited stubbornly for MacLaine to keep talking, but the man only stood and moved to the door, opening it.
Another man walked in and he was not alone. There, in his vicious grip, was Alicia, who had been gagged and could do nothing but grumble around the cloth in her mouth as she was dragged inside, restrained by the man’s arms. Once she was within reach, though, she stopped struggling as MacLaine swiftly pressed a blade to her throat, completely immobilizing her.
