Page 95 of Cottage in the Mist
Visions of her parents filled her mind, bile rising in her throat as she held her ground. “How did you…” She trailed off, her mind spinning as she tried to find a way out.
“I had a little help. Ye dinna think I was in this alone, did you?”
She shook her head and then opened her mouth to scream, but Frazier was faster, one hand bringing the knife to her throat as the other covered her lips to prevent her crying out. “If ye dinna want to die here and now then I suggest ye hold yer tongue. Do ye ken what I’m saying?”
She nodded. And he released her, but kept one hand circled about her wrist. “There’s a good lass.”
“Where’s William?” she asked, her stomach churning with worry.
“My man has him.” Frazier’s smile held no humor. “And unless you want something more to happen to him, you’ll give me what I’ve come for.”
She shook her head, fear holding her tongue captive.
“The ring.” He held out an impatient hand. “Give me the ring.”
“I can’t,” she croaked. “I don’t have it.”
“Of course ye do.” He snarled and reached between her breasts to grab the chain, his eyes flashing when it yielded nothing but silver links. “What have ye done with it then?”
She lifted her chin, determined not to let this man get the better of her. “I gave it to my husband. Last night when we pledged ourselves to each other.”
The man with the claymore cursed. “We’ve the need to move, Frazier. We canna be sure they havena discovered that yer gone.”
“Only a moment more,” Frazier replied, stroking the edge of his knife as he watched her, his fingers still clamped about her wrist. “I’m afraid I dinna see that one coming. I’d assumed the boy would reject you because of your kin.”
“Well, he hasn’t. And if he finds you here, he’ll kill you. And then he’ll kill your master.” Again she lifted her chin, feigning a bravado she was far from feeling.
“I’d thought to bring Malcolm the ring. A token of my devotion. But perhaps this new turn of events is even better.” He took a step closer and she backed up, her heels at the edge of the river bank. “I’ll bring him his nephew’s bride.” With a swiftness that belied his age, Frazier jerked her into his arms and called to his friends, “Kill the boy and help me with her.”
Lily fought like a wildcat, striking out with her free arms and her legs. A knee landed squarely in Frazier’s groin and with satisfaction she heard the man grunt in pain. But if she’d thought to stop him, she was wrong. Frazier cursed and then brought the full force of his fist against her cheek and temple. Red hot pain exploded through her head, white light obliterating the scene before her.
She fought to hold onto consciousness but the pain was too great, the light fading quickly as blackness invaded, flowing through her brain, obliterating her thoughts until it swallowed her whole.
30
“So I hear congratulations are in order.” Alec Comyn walked up to the campfire where Bram, Iain and Ranald were talking.
“Aye, my cousin has seen fit to take himself a bride.” Ranald slapped Bram on the back with a beefy hand, his face split with a grin. “I assumed he’d tup the wench; I had no idea he’d up and marry her.”
“Watch your tongue,” Bram cautioned, boxing his cousin’s ear. “I’ll no’ have you talking like that about my wife.”
“Come now,” Alec said. “Seems to me like this calls for a wee dram. Or maybe two.”
Bram grinned as Alec produced a bottle and poured a measure in each of the cups they held.
“To Bram,” Iain offered, holding his cup aloft. “May your marriage bring you the same degree of happiness as mine.”
For a moment the two men’s gazes met and held—a world of meaning passing between them. Ranald and Alec might be aware of the story behind both Katherine’s and Lily’s strange appearances, but neither of them could truly understand the sheer magic of it. Nor the accompanying fear that at any moment it might be snatched away.
Alec waited until they’d all drained their cups and then filled them again, lifting his high. “To Lily.”
“To Lily,” the others echoed as Jeff emerged from the edge of the woods.
“Why are we toasting Lily?” he asked, pushing his hair back from his face.
“Bram has wedded and bedded her,” Ranald said, the crooked smile still fixed on his face.
“I beg your pardon?” Jeff asked with a frown. “I thought the two of you weren’t speaking.”
