Page 90 of A Sinful Night with a Scot
Not long after that, Keane, Owen and Alisdair hurried down the glen and positioned themselves at the far side of the wall. Ten minutes later, Keane listened to the bellows and cries of his own men thundering down the hill toward the gates. Their battle cry would elicit fear from any man, which is exactly the result they got, for behind the wall, mass panic ensued.
Gunn’s guards screamed at each other. First came the yells that they were under attack, and afterwards, orders were barked for men to get into positions. Still, Keane and his companions waited. They had to be certain all the soldiers were headed to the front of the castle before they made their move.
Five more minutes passed before Keane looked at the other two.
“I think it’s time.”
Alisdair and Owen nodded, and the men came out from their hiding place. Owen positioned himself beside the wall and cupped his hands. Keane placed his foot into the make-shift stirrup, pressed himself against Owen for balance, and pushed himself up against the stone boundary. When he managed to get a firm grip on the stone work, using places where the stone had worn away, he pulled himself up and onto the wall.
He remained there while Alisdair repeated the process, and then they both helped Owen up to join them. All three kept themselves pressed tightly against the top of the wall, scanning the area. While he had hoped the battle at the front would have drawn all Gunn’s soldiers to fight, Keane took in a deep breath of disappointment at seeing several soldiers remaining at their posts.
“It looks like we have a battle on our hands after all, me friends,” he said.
“I only came here fer the fight,” Owen quipped with a smirk.
Seconds later, all three had jumped down into the garden area, and without hesitation, for Keane was desperate to see his beloved wife, they ran at the castle with great speed.
The soldiers saw them coming, but then, Keane had expected that. There was no other way to get into the castle, and thus, there was little point hiding their arrival. As Keane, Alisdair and Owen advanced, five or more soldiers ran at them, yelling at the top of their voices.
With his sword held high, Keane ran alongside his companions and launched at them, striking with all his might. His strong blows crashed down onto their swords, and immediately, he sensed their doubt and fear. They were fighting for their laird. He was fighting for his wife. There really was no contest.
Metal clanged together as the three struck soldiers down, one after the other. Alisdair was wounded on his arm, but the man hardly paid attention to his injury. Owen fought as though it were his wife that was being held. And Keane was only grateful that he had such loyal companions by his side.
Seeing their counterparts falling around them, the final two soldiers ran. Perhaps they expected to be chased, but Keane’s objective was not to battle. It was something far more important. Now their way into the castle was clear, he intended to fulfill it.
Continuing across the grounds, the three entered the castle. Keane was ready to fight more soldiers, but the attack at the castle gates already had everyone’s attention, and chaos ensued, with people running in all directions.
Keane grabbed one of the maids as she hurried past. “Where’s the laird? I am a messenger, and I need tae speak tae him immediately.”
The lass, too terrified to process the blatant lie, told Keane the laird was last seen in his study. She then pointed him in the direction he needed to go. As always, Owen and Alisdair were close behind. Avoiding the panic, they made their way through the corridors.
Keane did not knock when he reached the study, but upon bursting through the door, he immediately stilled. Behind him, Owen gasped, for before them, positioned in front of the raging fire, Laird Gunn stood with Elsie pushed in front of him, a knife to her throat. She looked utterly terrified, her eyes wide, and her face as white as snow, for the blood had clearly drained from it in fear.
“I kent it was ye, Mackay,” Gunn snarled. “Even the fires this morning. I kent they were yer doing.”
Without taking his eyes off his beautiful wife, Keane replied with a voice as calm as still water. “And yet, ye sent yer soldiers anyway.”
“I wasnae going tae let me villagers burn, was I?” he spat back.
“I suppose nae,” Keane said, taking small steps forward. “But now, yer men are far fewer, and mine are outside, ready tae slaughter them and ye.”
“They’ll have tae kill yer wife first. I hardly think they’re going tae dae that in her condition.”
“Her condition?” Alisdair said.
“She’s with child. Didnae ye ken?”
Keane’s eyes widened at those words, and Elsie suddenly looked saddened. Strangely, however, rather than feeling the terror thathe imagined he might, Keane felt excitement and anticipation. It was hardly the time or place to consider what kind of father he might be, and yet the thought flew through his mind all the same.
“Och, it seems yer wife is keeping secrets from ye,” Gunn sneered. “Maybe she was going tae run away and never tell ye. After all, ever since ye snatched her, she’s been dreaming o’ escape.”
Keane stilled at those words. But while Laird Gunn laughed at his reaction, Elsie shook her head.
“Dinnae listen tae him, Keane. Ye ken that isnae true.”
“Och, o’ course it is. Sure, she’s confessed everything tae me,” Gunn continued. “She’s told me what a dreadful laird ye are, and how badly ye’ve treated her.”
But the more Gunn continued, the more Keane allowed his words to wash over him. That might have been true at the beginning, for he had treated her poorly. But he knew it wasn’t the case any longer.
