Page 85 of A Sinful Night with a Scot
One of the men laughed out loud. “There’s nay point screaming, lass. Yer man cannae hear ye. He’s too busy fighting. Now, move.”
Dragging her harshly along with them, they maneuvered through the castle. Avoiding the front entrance and the battle that continued outside, they took another corridor and hurrieddown it. They did that several times until they reached the back entrance of the castle.
All the while, Elsie screamed loudly in hope that someone somewhere might hear her.
“Shut her up,” one of the men yelled. “She’s driving me mad.”
Suddenly, Elsie felt an immense pain in the side of her head. Her legs buckled beneath her and then everything went black.
The throbbing pain in the side of her head woke her. Before Elsie even opened her eyes, she brought her hand to it, as though pressing against the pain might alleviate it. It didn’t, of course. Nor did it ease the horrible dizzy, sick feeling in her stomach. She also felt stiffness in her body. The more aware she became, the more she realized that she was lying upon a cold stone floor.
When she did eventually open her eyes, her deductions were proven true, for she was indeed, lying in a cell of sorts. It was filthy, and smelled awful, a mixture of urine and death. Likely a dungeon in the bowels of wherever those men had brought her. Looking at the solid stone walls that surrounded her, she noticed scratches. Some were words, other’s looked like they had been clawed by a wild animal.
Good God! What has happened in this place?
She moved slowly, for her aching muscles would not allow her to do anything else. Wincing as she went, she finally managed to push herself to a standing position. The room was cold with a barred window high up on one wall. It let little light in, but there was enough for her to see her surroundings.
Apart from a bucket in the corner, there were no other furnishings. No bed, no table, not even a blanket. Shuffling to the barred gate across the room, she took hold of the bars and peaked outside. The corridor was as dark as the cell, and though a chair stood in a corner across the way, no one was seated in it.
“Where the devil am I?” she breathed.
She could scream for help, yet she knew it would be pointless. The men had said they were taking her, so clearly, she was no longer in the castle. In fact, she was likely miles away by now. Miles from the castle and miles from Keane.
“Keane!” she gasped.
God, I hope he is all right. I have tae believe he is all right. He will be going out o’ his mind, discovering that I have been taken.
Ye have more things tae be worrying about than Keane.
Yes. She supposed she did. This was Laird Gunn’s doing. The men who had taken her had not said so, but a feeling deep in hergut told her it had to be true. They had mentioned something about the laird being pleased. Who else could it be?
Yer faither?
Possibly. After losing that duel, her father had been entirely humiliated. Her last words to him would not have helped his rage either. This could be payback. And yet, he had given his word that he would not return.
This is the same faither who was willing tae give ye up tae a cruel man just fer an alliance. Surely, ye cannae expect him tae keep his word.
But actually, Elsie could. For all her father’s faults, he had always been honorable that way. Which led her back to her original conclusion.
This is Laird Gunn’s doing. I just ken it.
For some time afterwards, Elsie had nothing to do, only pace back and forth. Whoever had taken her was in no hurry to see her, and the movement at least kept her warm. She had no idea how long she had been there, left alone to wonder what was going to happen to her. But eventually, she heard footsteps echoing in the corridor beyond.
Running to the gate, she grabbed hold of the bars.
“Hello?” she cried.
A second later, Elsie laid her eyes upon a man about her father’s age. Unshaven and unkempt, he gazed at her for a long moment. She was surprised to see sadness in his eyes.
“This is nay place for a lady,” he said, shaking his head.
“Where am I?” Elsie said.
“The dungeons,” he replied, not understanding her question.
“I ken I’m in the dungeons,” she retorted in frustration. “I mean. Where am I?”
The man looked a little taken aback. Realizing she was clueless as to her location, he said, “Ye’re in Laird Gunn’s castle.”
