Page 81 of Beloved Enemy
Reid swung down from his horse, his boots hitting the ground with a smart thud. Before he’d secured the reins to the pommel, a familiar voice pierced through the noise of their arrival—Charlotte’s voice.
"Everything comes to light eventually, right, Fiona?"
The sound of her words whipped Reid around, his heart seizing.
There, emerging from the shadowy door at the base of the tower, was Fiona, her hand tangled cruelly in Charlotte’s hair, a glinting knife pressed tight to her throat. The shock hit him like a blow to the chest.
Fiona jerked to a halt, looking just as stunned to see him as he was to see her.
Their eyes locked, and for a split second, Reid saw the fear in his sister’s cold gaze, the realization that her plan had just unraveled before her very eyes. She tightened her grip on Charlotte, yanking her hair and pressing the knife harder against her throat, a thin line of blood beginning to well where the blade bit into her skin.
The world around him seemed to freeze. Indeed, his blood turned to ice.
“Saints be damned,” Tavish hissed beside him.
Reid’s gaze shifted to Charlotte, who stood trembling but unbroken, her chin lifted in quiet defiance despite the blade ather throat. Fear flickered in her green eyes, but beyond that terror lay something deeper—what Reid resolved was a steadfast belief in him. She had endured his cold suspicion, her own lonely isolation, and now this peril. Yet, as her gaze met his, there was no doubt, no hesitation. The look in her beautiful green eyes spoke of unwavering faith. She believed in him, fully and without question, as if his very presence was enough to save her. The weight of that trust hit him harder than any betrayal.
Fiona’s eyes widened in horror as she spotted Lachlan, bound and trussed up in the back of the wagon, surrounded by Reid’s men.
“Release him!” Fiona screamed, her eyes wild as they darted between Lachlan and Reid. “Release him, or I’ll slit her throat!”
Reid met Fiona’s crazed gaze. “How could ye?” He wanted to know.
This served to give Fiona pause. She sneered at her brother. “How could I? Me?” Her voice rose in indignation. “Ye ask that as if ye had nae hand in it. As if ye were innocent.” She jerked Charlotte’s head higher, her knuckles white where they gripped the knife.
“I’ve done naught but protect ye,” Reid bit out, his chest tight with disbelief. “What in God’s name could have driven ye to this?”
Fiona’s lips curled into a bitter smile, and her eyes glinted with something darker than mere resentment. “Ye’re so quick to forget,” she hissed. “I was wed off young, before I’d even tasted a moment of freedom. Father sold me like cattle to a brute, and ye did nothing!” Her voice cracked, raw with years of repressed anger. “And then, when I was free of him, ye thought to do the same—another match for the sake of duty.”
Reid’s brow furrowed, taken aback. “I kent Ewan to be an honorable man—”
“Honor?” she scoffed, her laugh harsh and bitter. “Honor means nothing when ye’re the one forced to live it. I wouldna be sold off again to some Highlander with nae name, nae wealth, and nae future!”
“This is about power, then? Titles? Wealth? Ye’d cast us all aside for it,” Reid said, his voice hardening as he began to understand.
Fiona’s eyes narrowed. “Aye, and why shouldnae I?” she snapped. “I’ve suffered enough. And I willna be bound to a life of mediocrity when there’s more to be had. Lachlan and I, we have a future—a grand one. Wealth, lands, more than ye could ever promise. I deserve better than this, and I intend to take it.”
“Release him,” Reid ordered, his voice hollow, knowing he had no choice. Charlotte was more important than justice or any vengeance, more important than Fiona or Lachlan. He would get them later—Charlotte’s safety was everything now.
Fiona’s expression shifted, surprise flickering in her eyes. She hadn’t expected her brother to concede so quickly.
She wouldn’t harm Charlotte, though, he believed, not until she had no use for her. It was a gamble, but one he had to take. Fiona was trapped and right now Charlotte was her only leverage.
The soldiers hesitated only for a second before pulling Lachlan down from the wagon, freeing him from his bonds. Lachlan staggered slightly but stood tall, his face unreadable, as he rubbed at his sore wrists.
“Now let her go,” Reid said, his voice hoarse, his regard returning to Charlotte, who locked eyes with him. “Forgive me,” Reid rasped, the plea raw and desperate, as if his very soul demanded her absolution.
A deep anguish twisted in his heart as he saw the faintest smile on her lips, despite the tears glistening in her eyes. Shetried to smile for him. After everything he’d put her through—she still tried to offer him comfort.
“There’s nothing to forgive,” she whispered, her voice cracking a wee bit.
***
Despite the relative calm of her statement, Charlotte’s heart pounded—as it had from the minute Fiona had burst into the tower chamber, armed with the knife, seeming to breathe fire from her eyes. Shocked as she’d been, Charlotte’s attempt to escape Fiona had been limited, by both her fear and the smallness of the chamber. There was simply nowhere to hide. Fiona had said that Lachlan had Reid in his custody and if Charlotte wanted to save him, she needed to comply.
Obviously a lie, Charlotte now knew.
Christ, how treacherous was this fourteenth century!had been her wild thought when Fiona had ushered her out of the tower with the knife at her throat.
