Page 12 of Kidnapped By her Highland Enemy
Scrubbing his hands over his face, Lucas wondered about the mysterious threat, and again, he leaned to suspicion that the King was behind it. What other way to splinter two strong clans apart than to hint at a traitor in each of them?
After checking that the ropes were still tied, he headed back to the house. He had to hope that the two women would hold to their word and not try to escape. If not, he would be having a long night.
“I ken I gave him me word,” Heather whispered to Maisie, while looking frantically to the door. “But we need to escape this place. Eventually, he is going to kill us.”
Pressing her lips tightly Maisie wished she could agree with Heather, but she felt differently. “I daenae, Heather,” she said. “If he wanted us dead, he would have killed us from the moment he took us.”
Heather’s face was spotted red with anger and white with fear. “They are Barclays, me lady. They are wicked brutes with nay compassion or love. I am assured they will kill us.”
Maisie stood and began to pace. “I understand ye, Heather, I do, but I cannae but feel otherwise.”
“How can ye?” Heather was on her feet. “He’s nae to be trusted!”
“I ken he is me enemy, has been me family’s enemies for decades, but—” Maisie shook her head. “—I ken there’s something driving this kidnapping other than the rivalry. What that is, I daenae ken.”
“It’s trickery,” Heather spat unkindly. “Ye shouldnae trust him.”
“I dinnae say I trusted him,” Maisie said, but drew to a pause. If she thought Lucas was not going to kill her, what was thatbuttrust? “I just daenae feel that he will kill us, that’s all.”
Her words sounded hollow and meaningless, but Maisie was duly conflicted. She wanted to trust that Lucas would spare her life, but she could not dismiss Heather’s words— Lucas and his sort were her enemies and while that lady, Eilidh, she believed, had spoken with glowing tones about the man, the history between her clan and his had not proven her right.
Her handmaid was not happy, and it showed on Heather’s face. Maisie knew she had to do something to get Heather to understand that it would be unwise to cross the Barclays.“Whatever happens, Heather, we cannae cross them. That would spell disaster for us.”
Huffing under her breath, Heather turned from her. “Ye shouldnae eat anything from there either.”
“Ye havenae?” Maisie asked, appalled. “It’s almost two days Heather, ye must be starving.”
Tossing her braid, Heather said, “I’d rather go hungry than eat a thing fromthem.”
Maisie understood, as she too had held her doubts and had asked Lucas’s man to taste the food first, but now it felt a bit ridiculous, well to her. Why would Lucas carry them so far,alive, only to poison them after? That would be the mark of a malicious man and she did not feel that from Lucas—even though his arrogance irked her.
“While it concerned me, I have eaten,” Maisie said. “Ye shouldnae go hungry when ye have the chance to eat.”
“I dinnae trust them,” Heather hissed. “And ye shouldnae either.”
“I am happy to allow ye to cook yer meals,” Lucas’s stiff voice came from the doorway, making Maisie startle and causing Heather to jump. He strode in, the thumps of his boot as loud as tumbling boulders.
He looked impassive but behind his verdant eyes, Maisie saw that he was not pleased. The ridge in his shoulder told her his honor had been snubbed and oddly, she felt as upset as he was. While his expression was not as strong as she expected, she knew he was angry and with bated breath, Maisie waited for his reaction.
“Ye can go now if ye want,” Lucas said to Heather while his eyes rested on Maisie.
With a sniff and a stubborn sneer, Heather swept from the room and Maisie’s worried gaze rested on her as she went. After the door closed, Maisie turned to Lucas, “Are ye finally going to tell me why ye’ve brought me here?”
5
Lucas pinned her with his gaze. Normally, the haughty tilt of her chin and the lowering of her delicately curved brows would have encouraged him to ruffle her composure. But now, there was another look in her eyes, a placid one, and he took it as a good sign. It meant that her fear had ebbed enough to make room for clear thought.
Instead of readily replying, Lucas allowed his gaze to trail over her. She was a foot shorter than him, but her bold stance made her look ten feet tall. He noticed the splatter of freckles on the bridge of her nose, the tiny beauty spot just beneath one eye, her high cheekbones, and plump lips. She was a beauty and for a moment, he wondered why in the last ten years of the feud between his family and hers, he had not even thought about her.
Her neck grew red as he perused her and despite the heavy, damp wool dress now concealing her form, he remembered how her slender body had felt in his arms.
“Would ye take a walk with me?” he asked.
Her brows darted up. “A walk…with ye? To where?”
“Nay the gallows,” his lips twitched. “Just down to the seaside.”
“Why?” Maisie demanded.
