Page 51 of Dark Side of the Laird
Agatha shook her head, looking just as confused as I was. “He was stabbed.”
“More times than I can count,” I whispered, looking back at his quickly paling face, gray lips. If I didn’t see the continual, shaky rise and fall of his chest, I would have thought he was dead. No wonder people were buried alive in the middle ages… “Have they foundher?”
“Not yet, my lady.”
Damn… Isabella could be anywhere. I heard a guard murmur that Ewan had last been seen trying to find Isabella to confine her in her room.
“Carry him upstairs to the laird’s chamber,” I ordered.
“My la—” Agatha protested, but I cut her off.
“Now.”
Several guards lifted Ewan and carried him toward the stairs, none second-guessing me.
“My lady, do ye require assistance?” my guard asked.
I nodded.
He lifted me once more and we, too, departed the great hall.
The healer arrived on our heels and ushered everyone from the room. I protested, but she wouldn’t hear anything of it. She did, however, agree to letting Agatha remain behind. Only after my maid swore to bring me news every hour did I retreat to my own room—via the hallway. No need for the added questions of anyone who might intrude when I used the adjoining panel.
I nodded to my guard in the hallway then stepped through the door, shutting it behind me. As soon as I turned around, Isabella stepped out of shadowed corner, a smile peeling the corners of her lips back. I sucked in a breath, pressed my back to the door as though its sturdy build would protect me from her.
“What are you doing in my room?” I hissed, anger fueling my blood to boiling.
“Waiting for ye. I suppose ye saw my warning?”
“Warning?” I crossed my arms over my chest, forcing myself not to stare toward the bed where my blade was safely hidden beneath the pillow. I’d like nothing more than to slice this bitch up.
“Your precious little puppy dog.”
“I don’t own a dog,” I said, feigning boredom.
“Och, nay, sweet Emma, ye own nothing. This puppy follows ye around hoping for a chance to rut on ye like his laird.”
I narrowed my eyes, her vulgar words so offensive and shocking they didn’t register. “What?”
She rolled her eyes. “Ewan, ye half-wit.”
I rolled my eyes back, with an extra oomph of exaggeration. “You’re a very bad judge of character. Though I’m not surprised. Ewan is like a brother to me.”
She walked over to my window and gazed outside before closing the shutters. My stomach turned in knots. Was she about to slice me up like she’d done to Ewan? How had she overtaken a massive warrior?
“Then ye sin in more ways than one,” she said, a smirk on her lips.
“You think you’re so clever.” I took three steps forward, anger fueling the impulsive move. “But there’s one thing you forgot.”
“What’s that?” she asked, tapping her fingers on the table near the tray where the tea cup I’d found with the weird herbs had been.
“Your warnings mean nothing to me,” I ground out.
Isabella pressed her fingers to her lips, mock surprise in her expression. “Oh, dear. Poor Ewan will be so disappointed to hear that. Ye know I lured him to the beach by telling him I’d seen ye run down there.” She pursed her lips, her eyes looking off in the distance, a gleam coming into them that sent a shiver careening down my spine. “Convinced a guard to go along with it.” She laughed and snapped her fingers. “Off he went when I brushed my hand over his cock.”
I tilted my head to the side, refusing to let her see my pain. It was hard to hide hit. Hard to act calm when all I wanted to do was rush screaming toward her and strangle the breath from her evil body. But Isabella was a rabid dog. Who knew what she had up her sleeve. So, I took a deep breath and forced myself to act as rationally as I could when I asked, “How can you live with yourself?”
Isabella looked taken aback for a mere second or two, her mouth opening a fraction of an inch, eyes connecting with mine, before she regained her composure. Like a mask, that vile person she was swiftly suppressed her brief stagger.
