Highland Captive (20 page)

Despite
his own troubled and confused feelings concerning Parlan, Artair could not
shake his loyalty to Parlan who was not only his brother but his laird. It was
now painfully clear to him that Aimil Mengue was more to Parlan than a wench to
tussle with. As he debated whether he should speak of his suspicions to Parlan
upon his return, Catarine’s skilled hand reached between his thighs and put the
matter out of his head.

Chapter Eleven

“Loving,
I can understand why you would like to stay.” Leith looked at his crestfallen
sister with honest sympathy.

“Aye,
there are the reasons ye are thinking on but there is also Rory.”

Leith
sighed and sat down beside Aimil on Parlan’s bed. He was torn two ways. Parlan
was a man of his word yet nothing seemed to be getting done. Time passed
without sight or word of Rory while his father struggled to fulfill ransom
demands that Parlan swore had only been made to gain time. And Aimil was
falling more in love with a man who made no visible effort to make her any more
than his bed-warmer. If nothing else, perhaps if Aimil was taken from him,
Parlan would decide he wanted her back—as his wife. It was past time to make
some decisive move and escape was all Leith could think of.

“I
will do all I can to keep ye from being wed to him.”

“But
is all ye can enough?”

“That
I do not ken, but I swear upon our mother’s grave he will never have ye, Aimil.
I will help ye flee and hide ye if all else fails. I will try all else first
but I will do even that if I must.”

“Oh,
Leith, that would put ye against our father.”

“In
this I am already set against him. ‘Tis time to cease being silent about it and
take action.”

“Parlan
said he would stop the wedding.”

“Aye,
and I want to believe him. I do believe that he means to, but what can he do?
What has he done? Each day that passes brings the ransom closer to being paid
in full. He swore to me that the ransom was made so weighty so that he could
have time to stop the marriage.”

Although
that surprised her, Aimil added softly, “Yet the marriage is still planned and
the ransom gathered.” She shook her head. “Nay, I cannae believe that he plays
us for fools. He is an honest man.”

“So
I believe, dearling, yet I cannae let Father hand the man a purse that will
leave us paupers because I cannae face the fact that I could be wrong. There
are times, Aimil, when trust becomes a risk too great to take, and I begin to
think ‘tis one of those times. Ye could be wrong. Feelings for the man could
blind ye,” he added softly.

She
rose from where she sat on the bed and agitatedly paced the room. “Aye, they
could. I think ye have guessed more than I wish ye to. Yet, as those feelings
may blind me, they also make me sicken at the thought of wedding Rory
Fergueson.”

“I
swear to you, sweeting, ye will never wed Rory.”

“‘Tis
our duty to try to escape,” she murmured, hoping that by repeating that she
could convince herself of it.

“Aye,
because of the ransom and because of what he is doing to ye. There is no honor
for ye in this arrangement. If he would but offer to wed ye...” he began.

“I
will wed no man for honor’s sake.”

“Ah,
loving, many is the man that speaks of honor but is wedding a woman because he
wishes to.”

“Mayhaps.”
She sighed. “I cannae stay only because I wish to.”

“Nay.
Because ye are his captive, there are many who will pay little heed to the
bedding of ye. If ye stay of your own will, ye are agreeing to the arrangement
and that is when all will think ye but a whore, or most all.”

“I
ken it.” Her mind cringed at the very thought of it. “When do we leave?”

“This
night. I wished to go last eve but I needed to be certain of the best place to
slip away through. It took longer than I had thought. ‘Tis a weel-guarded
place. Even the place I have found is watched but nae as keenly as others.
Also, less time is needed to go from one place of cover to another then out
beyond the walls.”

“What
time do we try this then?”

“After
the evening meal. We will retire as always and, as soon as the place quiets for
the night, we will be gone.”

She
smiled when he kissed her cheek, but her smile faded quickly when he left.
Leaving was the very last thing she wanted to do. All of Leith’s reasoning was
perfectly sound. There was no arguing with it yet she desperately wished that
there was. Once she was back home, Parlan would never get near her again. She
could not even feel sure that he would try.

There
was also the possibility that, if he did hold some feelings for her, her escape
would hurt him. He would probably understand what drove her to it, but emotions
could be irrational things. She knew that all too well. No matter how solid her
reasoning, there was no ignoring the fact that she was escaping not only Dubhglenn
but his bed. She did not relish delivering that dart. She could almost wish
that he held no more feelings for her than a healthy lust.

Shaking
her head, she sought to disperse such thoughts. She needed to convince herself
of the need to escape, of the rightness of the action. To view the unpleasant
even painful side of it all would weaken her and she needed strength.

It
proved difficult to keep up a facade of normality during the evening meal.
Aimil found herself almost glad of Catarine’s presence and her continued
acrimonious talk. It kept her thoughts from dwelling on how soon she would be
gone from Dubhglenn and Parlan. So too did it give others a reason for her less
than cheerful mood. They no doubt felt that she was simply angry with or tired
of Catarine.

As
she waited for Leith in Parlan’s room after they had retired, Aimil thought on
Catarine and wished she had not. The woman would heartily welcome a vacancy in
Parlan’s bed. Aimil did not feel confident that since she had left him of her
own free will, Parlan would suffer an empty bed. She felt sick over the thought
of him with other women, especially Catarine. It was enough to make her
determination waver, but then Leith arrived.

“Ready,
love?” he murmured, his gaze soft with understanding as he recognized her
distress.

“If
we must.” She sighed.

Grasping
her gently by the shoulders, he said, “We must try, Aimil. If the man cares for
ye, he will come for ye.”

“I
am betrothed to Rory.” She did not really want to cherish too many hopes
concerning Parlan for it would only hurt her more when they came to nothing.

“Then
Parlan will end that betrothal as he said he would. He can do that be we at
Dubhglenn or at home.”

She
nodded and allowed herself to be led from the room. It was tempting to look
back but she resisted. Now was the time to look ahead and to concentrate upon
the business of escaping. Memories and regrets could come later. She was sure
that she would find herself heavily ladened with both when she finally gave
them free rein.

Moving
through the shadowed halls of Dubhglenn, she was a little surprised at the
laxity of the guard. Soon after that, she grew insulted. It appeared that the
men felt Parlan had her well and firmly shackled to the bed. That a woman would
try to escape the Black Parlan’s arms was a possibility they plainly considered
a remote one. In what she knew was a rather contrary and perverse way, she
decided she was going to enjoy proving them all wrong.

Slipping
out of a little-used door into the bailey, she and Leith pressed their backs to
the wall, taking full advantage of the shadows while they surveyed the strength
of the guard. Here she noted that it was far more in evidence even though the
men’s attentions were mostly turned away from the keep. She realized that
slipping through the keep had been the easy part of their plan.

“Where
do we head, Leith?”

“To
the stables, loving. Between the wall of the stables and the curtain wall is a
small space, barely enough for us to slide into. There is a small door in the
curtain wall there. Getting to the stables from here will be difficult, but it
can be done. When I cry “now,’ ye are to bolt over the open ground toward the
curtain wall. Flat against it, ye will see the space.”

Aimil
felt her heart quicken with tense excitement. She held no fear for she felt
sure that Parlan’s men would not harm her or Leith although there could be a
few bruises forthcoming in their recapture. Despite her regrets and her desire
to stay, there was a thrill in the thought of eluding Parlan’s men and escaping
such a well-secured keep as Dubhglenn. She wished a successful escape did not
mean an end to all she had shared with Parlan.

When
Leith hissed the signal, she moved with no hesitation. She had seen that he
watched for that brief moment when the two guards who could have spotted them
had their attention elsewhere. That meant not only stealth was needed of her
but speed, and she produced all she could as she silently raced across the open
space to the stables.

Upon
reaching the high stone wall beyond the stables, she clung to the cool stone
and the safety of its shadows. It took a moment for her to espy the space Leith
had spoken of. The shadows and its narrowness made it nearly invisible. Still
clinging to the wall, she slid into the space, releasing her breath in a soft
expulsion of relief when no outcry was made. She had made it without being
discovered. Now she tensely waited for Leith to do the same.

Her
tension, accumulating as she waited for her brother, was released in a soft
squeak when he finally reached her side. There had been no warning of his
approach by sight or by sound. One minute she had been alone, in the next he
was there. It took her several deep breaths before she quieted the furious
pounding of her heart. Despite that, she felt proud of his skill.

“Where
is this doorway, Leith?” she hissed, eager to continue now that she had
committed herself to the plan.

“Slide
along some and ye shall feel it.”

It
was several feet before her hand left stone and touched wood. “A bolthole, do
ye think?”

“Aye.
T’was weel concealed with debris and there is but a wee walkway of rock between
it and the loch that guards this side of Dubhglenn. A boat may have been
tethered below or near. There is none now, but I cannae think any who fled by
this route meant to swim the loch. It has been long forgotten, I believe.”

“It
could be a weak spot if ‘tis forgotten, a way for enemies to gain Dubhglenn.”

“We
will send your love word of it when we are safe away. I have no plans to make
use of such a thing. Open the door, sweeting. By staying close to the wall, we
can work our way round to the front whence comes another difficult part. There
is a large open space between the walls of Dubhglenn and any cover. We shall
have to bolt across and hope that some clouds arise to dim what light there is.”

She
forced herself to open the door. It required all her strength, and she pressed
her body against it. Leith kept a grip on her in case she stumbled for there
was no room for a misstep outside the door. She could easily be plunged into the
loch. As she slowly worked the door open, she fought the urge to end the
escape, to give into the temptation to return to Parlan’s bed and await his
return.

Parlan
scowled when Elfking hesitated in his steady pace toward Dubhglenn’s gates. He
had little patience for dealing with the spirited animal’s vagaries. Although
he could not stop himself, he felt foolish for driving his men so hard just so
that he could reach Dubhglenn and a tiny lady one night earlier than planned.
That the men suspected what pushed him only annoyed him more. Cursing when
Elfking sought to turn toward the loch, he struggled to keep the horse on the
road. Finally, he decided that he would waste less time if he allowed the
animal his way for the moment.

“Ride
on ahead,” he ordered his men. “This fool beast has a fancy to see the loch and
willnae be dissuaded. I have decided that, this time, t’will be easier to let
him have his way.”

“I
will ride with ye,” murmured one burly man as he moved out of the group to ride
at Parlan’s side.

Rolling
his eyes in exasperation, Parlan nodded curtly. It would be unfair to take his
ill temper out on the man. Iain felt he was only doing his duty in insuring
that his laird was well-guarded even so close to Dubhglenn’s walls. Although
Parlan did his best not to gather too many enemies, he had enough to warrant
the concern.

A
frown touched Parlan’s face as he allowed Elfking the freedom to go where he
wished. The animal’s ears twitched, and his nose worked much as if he were a
hound on the scent. Parlan’s curiosity began to outweigh his annoyance. He
thought now that the horse was not simply being contrary.

As
the horse picked his way over the increasingly rocky ground, Parlan mused upon
what had brought him hieing back to Dubhglenn. He honestly admitted that it was
not only physical need. There was no doubt about his eagerness to bed Aimil
again, but he was also eager to see her. He wanted to hear her laugh, to see
her smile, and simply to talk to her. It was a source of some wonder to him to
discover how thoroughly he missed her as a person and not just as a body that
gave him pleasure.