Page 77 of Wicked Highland Wishes
Twenty-One
Lachlan crouched hidden in the trees alongside Graham and the rest of his men, and stared into the dark at Arthorn Castle. He was not tired, though he had pushed himself and his men relentlessly to get here as quickly as possible. It had taken an entire day for Graham to pick up the trail that Colin and Atholl had taken, driving Lachlan nearly half-mad with impatience and worry. Once they started following the trail, terrible weather had ensued, making their progress painfully slow. But when they had neared Arthorn Castle, a home that had once belonged to his uncle but had been abandoned when Jamie was forced to leave Scotland, Lachlan knew his uncle was here. And so was Bridgette. He could sense her. He could not explain it, but his heart took on a different beat, as if keeping pace with hers.
He stared up the hill through the woods that surrounded the castle and conjured an image of Bridgette. Was she unharmed? If not, what had been done to her? Had she been forced to marry Colin by threat to Marion’s life? His insides twisted just thinking about it. The questions fired into his mind like a deluge of released arrows.
“We go as soon as the light is completely gone,” he whispered to Graham.
“Aye,” Graham agreed. “Up the hill, past the waterfall, and through the secret escape tunnel?”
“Aye,” Lachlan murmured, hoping his uncle had not closed the secret passages their father had told them about long ago. He had been explaining the tunnel created at Arthorn because he was having something similar constructed at Dunvegan. At Arthorn there were two secret tunnels. One led straight to the laird’s keep, the other to the watchtower. It was the watchtower that overlooked the loch and sat separate from the castle that he wanted to reach. His plan was to scale the rock that met the shore of the loch to reach the tower. It would be dangerous, as slipping from the rock could mean falling to their death in the loch.
“Shut yer eyes,” Graham said. “Ye have barely slept since we left. I will keep watch.”
Lachlan was about to argue, but weariness pressed heavily upon him, and he knew a short respite would give him renewed strength. He set his dagger across his legs and his sword by his side. With both hands curled around his weapons, he closed his eyes and dreamed of Bridgette. At first the dreams were sweet memories of holding her, caressing her, simply walking by her side, but the dream quickly turned to terror.Herterror, and he was but a bystander unable to help her. Her in a dungeon, screaming in agony, and he locked on the outside pounding against the door that held her within.
He awoke with a jerk to the sounds of the forest alive around him and his brother staring at him with unguarded eyes. Lachlan saw the pain there, and it was like it was his own. “I’m sorry,” he said simply. “I would give my life for ye. The last thing I ever meant to do was hurt ye.”
Graham flinched, and Lachlan expected him to retort in anger, but the tension in Graham’s face suddenly softened, and with a weary sigh, he rubbed his hands over his face and his eyes, and when he looked up, he inhaled a long shuddering breath and then spoke again. “I was there in the woods the day ye kissed Bridgette.”
Lachlan frowned. “When?” He’d kissed Bridgette in the woods several times.
Graham glared at the question. “At her home…before she killed the boar. Her screams brought me to her, and I saw ye.”
The shock of Graham’s admission robbed Lachlan of the ability to respond. For a moment, he simply stared at his brother. “Why did ye nae ever say anything?”
Graham gave Lachlan a long look that seemed full of regret. “I did,” Graham replied. “That night in the great hall I confessed to ye she had my heart because I kenned ye’d nae pursue her if I told ye. I wanted to take her from ye because I wanted to best ye at something.” Graham shook his head. “I’m sorry for that. I regret it. I do.”
Lachlan reached over and grasped Graham on the shoulder. “I forgive ye. I’m sorry for many a thing.”
Graham nodded. “I’m ashamed of myself. I had convinced myself ye did nae care for her, but I kinnae deny it any longer. The pain on yer face when ye learned she’d been taken…” He paused and swallowed hard. “I’ve nae ever seen ye look that way.”
Lachlan frowned. “What way was that?”
“Vulnerable. I made ye into a god as a boy and longed to be like ye, and then when I constantly fell short, I made ye into a devil, but ye’re just a man. And a good one, at that. I am sorry.”
Relief flowed through Lachlan. Their bond was not severed. “We are brothers, despite the wrongs heaped upon each other.” He said no more. It was enough in this moment to know his brother was not lost to him forever. Lachlan watched the sky and waited for the darkness, preparing for when he would take back Bridgette.
She awoke in a tiny hole lit only by a small sliver of moonlight that shone in from above. The dungeon was wet, cold, and miserable. They had not been here long. Between the weather, Colin’s head injury, and leading his horse, as well as the one Marion was on, their progress had been painfully slow, which gave her hope. If Lachlan had been able to discern where they had been taken, perchance he would reach her in time.
The drip of water joined the noise of worry in her head and the ache for food in her belly. She wondered where Marion had been taken since she had not been put in the dungeon with Bridgette. Would they harm Marion? Bridgette didn’t think they would kill her, because if they did, they had nothing to use to compel Bridgette to marry Colin. Suddenly, the hole above her flooded with light, and the bars above the hole squeaked as they were opened. A rope fell, dangling in front of her face before hitting her in the legs.
“Do ye wish to come out?” Colin asked in a cruel snarl. “Or do ye wish to stay down here and risk me becoming angry at Marion?”
Bridgette frantically reached for the rope and gripped it. “I’ve hold of the rope,” she snapped and gave it a hard tug.
“I was certain ye would be obliging,” Colin sang as the rope went taut and he pulled her up out of the pit. When she reached the top and attempted to stand, her legs gave way from being folded crosswise for such a long spell.
Colin chortled as he caught her and pressed her to him. He shoved back her hair and grimaced. “Ye look awful. This will nae do for yer wedding day.”
It was then she realized he had cleaned up and was dressed to be married. Her stomach roiled a protest and her heart ached for Lachlan.
“Ye ken I dunnae wish to marry ye,” she growled.
He slipped his arm under her legs and offered her a cynical smile. “I ken it, but I also ken that ye will do so to keep Marion alive.” Looking ahead, he strode with her through the courtyard, up the stairs, and into a bedchamber where two servant girls gave her wary glances.
She looked upon the water basin and sagged. It did not escape her that she was conquered in the moment by the desperate need to scrub off the grime. Her mind refuted the notion that she’d been bowed. She was simply preparing for the next battle.
Colin deposited her on the bed, then stood above her staring down. He spoke to the servants yet his gaze did not waver from Bridgette. “She’s really quite bonny when filth is nae covering her. Make her so quickly. Everyone awaits us in the chapel.”
