Page 34 of Married for a Highland Debt
“McDade,” he said aloud, “you are clearly not going to answer, so I am afraid I will have to stop being polite.”
He took a few steps back, then ran at the door and threw his entire weight against it. It shuddered but did not break. Next time he stood a little farther back, threw himself at the door again, and saw that one of the sturdy brass hinges had begun to bend.
“One more time, McDade!” he yelled, before hurling himself for the third time.
This time the door gave way with a shattering crash loud enough to echo in the corridors of the house. It hung askew by one hinge, and the lock was lying on the floor, having been torn from the splintered door jamb by a direct blow from Ninian’s shoulder. He looked at it for a moment with satisfaction before he realized that his shoulder was throbbing with pain. He cursed roundly, but there was no time to worry about it.
He marched into the house, realizing that his hand, his hip, and his knee were beginning to throb in time with his shoulder. God help Fergus McDade when Ninian laid hands on him! He threw open every door until he found one that looked like a study, but it was empty, as all the others had been, and he was about to walk away when he heard a shuffling noise coming from behind the desk.
There was no need for stealth now since he had already been seen. Ninian walked around the desk and looked down at the pathetic figure that was cowering in the footwell of the desk, looking up at him with terrified eyes.
“Stand up,” Ninian ordered. His dagger hung by his hip, but he had no intention of using it.
However, Fergus McDade had no idea of that. He kept his eyes fixed on the weapon as he stood up, trembling.
“I want to know where my wife is,” Ninian said through gritted teeth. “And if she is harmed, I vow to you this minute, Fergus McDade, that you will suffer just as much.”
“I have no idea where your wife is,” Fergus replied. “If I knew, I would tell you, M’Laird, for I wish the lady no harm.”
“I don’t believe you.” Ninian pulled him out from behind the desk and sat him down in a hard-backed chair, then stood over him. He had often found that his height was enough to intimidate most people. “Tell me.” His eyes were like flint as he stared at the other man.
“I have no idea!” Fergus said desperately, and Ninian had almost decided to believe him when suddenly Fergus launched himself at him, a small knife clasped in his hand. It was not much of a weapon, but at close range, it could do a lot of damage.
Ninian cursed himself for failing to unsheath his dagger as he grasped McDade’s wrist and squeezed. However, he was made of sterner stuff than he had looked to be, and he managed to escape by biting Ninian’s arm.
Ninian let go with a growl. “You will not get away with this!” he snarled at the other man, and they faced each other, gazes locked, circling each other. “You are a craven coward, and you will pay for what you have done.”
Fergus threw his head back and laughed out loud, trying to sound brave but failing miserably. “Are you going to make me?” he asked, his voice loaded with sarcasm.
“I am!” Ninian replied menacingly. “If I were you, I would start talking because I am not a patient man, and as you can see, I am considerably bigger than you are!”
Suddenly Fergus’s attitude of bravado disappeared as he edged away from Ninian. He made one last attempt to defend himself by shoving a wooden chair toward Ninian and making for the door.
Ninian sidestepped and clasped his fists together, then tried to bring them down like a club on Fergus’s neck as he tried to charge past. It was a fast, ferocious blow that would have rendered many men unconscious, but Fergus managed to dodge the worst of it, although Ninian still stood between him and the door. However, he was fast and nimble, and he sprang back up from the floor and threw a china vase at Ninian, who dodged it, but was momentarily unbalanced and staggered backward, landing on his backside on the floor.
This gave Fergus the chance to bolt for the door, but Ninian raised his leg and tripped him up. He stumbled but did not fall, however, and tried to reach the door again, but this time he almost made it, and his hand had just grasped the handle when Ninian grabbed him by the back of his coat, which ripped and pulled Fergus onto the floor. Nevertheless, he took Ninian with him, and he landed flat on his back underneath Fergus with the wind completely knocked out of him.
For a moment, Ninian saw a myriad of stars floating in front of his eyes, then a sudden, agonizing blow to his right jaw snapped his head sideways and set him reeling for a fleeting second. He was momentarily amazed since he had not realized that Fergus possessed such strength. However, anger came to his rescue, and a jolt of pure rage shot through him as he saw his enemy’s face leering at him triumphantly.
As he saw Fergus bunch his fist, Ninian raised his hands and encircled his enemy’s neck, then pressed his thumbs as hard as he could into his Adam’s apple. For a second, Fergus’s expression of surprise was almost comical before he choked and began to try to prise Ninian’s fingers away from his throat.
However, Ninian had been practicing with bows, swords, and catapults since boyhood, and his fingers were as strong as steel rods. The more Fergus tried to loosen them, pulling with all his might on Ninian’s wrists, the tighter they became.
Fergus’s face began to turn crimson. He was beyond the point where he could cough or choke; he could no longer make a sound. His dark gray eyes were bulging from their sockets and were locked on his enemy’s ice-blue ones, pleading for mercy, but Ninian was in the grip of such a fierce rage that he was almost enjoying squeezing the life out of him.
Finally, Fergus’s fingers relaxed, and his hands fell away from Ninian’s, and at that moment, he snapped back to sanity and let Fergus go. He stood looking down at the man, who was coughing and choking his way back to life, with utter contempt.
“Now, you will tell me who you are working for,” Ninian growled. “And you will tell me where my wife is, or I swear to God I will finish what I started here!”
Fergus’s eyes were full of terror, but as yet, still coughing, he was unable to speak. Ninian poured out a goblet of ale, ignoring his impulse to throw it over him, then gave it to him. He drank it gratefully, then spat most of it out, then drank again until he could speak. He wiped his streaming eyes and looked up.
“I did not want the money,” he said hoarsely, his voice trembling. “Someone threatened my family if I did not go to demand it. I had no choice.”
“Who was the man who gave you these orders?” Ninian demanded.
“I-I cannot tell you,” Fergus answered. “He wore a mask and disguised his voice. I swear I do not know where she is.”
“Is your family here in this house?” Ninian asked.
