Highland Song (10 page)

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Authors: Christine Young

BOOK: Highland Song
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"You left the only one who could help you decipher this at home?" he asked coolly.

 

"I had to leave," she said, tears forming in the back of her throat while she remembered the reasons for her leaving.

 

Bertram’s horrible groping hands.

 

The pain, the terror that held her hostage in her own home, and the fear her brothers would seek revenge.

 

"Why?" he asked.

 

She shook her head. The reason isn’t part of our negotiations. Nor did I promise to tell you about myself. The debt is paid in full. I owe you nothing."

Unconsciously, Lainie laced her fingers together, remembering the pain. She was changed forever. That day she’d felt her life slipping away. She'd known she couldn’t stay with her family. She'd had to find a peace within herself before she could go home.

 

Peace eluded her though. She didn’t think she would ever feel whole again.

 

"All right Lainie MacPherson, tell me more," he commanded.

 

"I can’t."

 

Slade had caught the change in Lainie’s voice and the subtle tension in her body. He wondered what she was lying about.

 

Even as Slade opened his mouth to a snide remark about the futility of hiding behind silence and pulling on his heartstrings, he realized there might be something to her silence. She had volunteered a lot of information--until their conversation became personal.

 

Slade nodded. "I’ll let it go for now. But I mean to get to the bottom of your story. A time will come when you’ll tell me everything."

 

"Never," she told him weakly.

 

"Don’t bet on it."

 

He watched Lainie close her eyes. The expression on her face changed so it was almost as if she was reliving something very painful. His heart ached for her.

 

"I can’t imagine why I’d ever tell you my dark secrets. They have nothing to do with you or what I took from you."

 

"I don’t believe you."

 

Her eyelids flinched. "It doesn’t matter."

 

"It might matter by the time we reach Edinburgh. You should work on a fairy tale that will stop me from handing you over to the authorities there." Slade said, not bothering to hide his disdain.

 

"I won’t go to Edinburgh. I’d die trying to escape before anyone hands me over to Bertram."
  

 

"Why?" Slade asked again.

 

She inhaled a long deep breath. Her eyes seemed to glass over for a moment. Then she shook her head, a lone tear sliding down her cheek.

 

"All right,
have
it your way, for now," he said, sitting back, giving her more room than he had since he’d first pounced on her.

 

"You can’t force me to talk."

 

Nothing in Slade’s voice or expression revealed the anger that churned in his gut at the thought of Lainie’s beautiful body being manhandled by a man who was at best the scum of the earth.

 

"I’ll find a way."

 

"What?" Lainie looked up, startled.

 

"How much did Bertram pay you?"

 

Lainie was too stunned to speak. Her hand flashed out so quickly that only a few men would have been able to counter the blow.

 

Slade was one of them, but it was a close call. Just before her palm would have connected with his cheek, he caught her wrist and flattened her out on the bedroll beneath him in the same fierce motion.

 

"Don’t ever try that again," he told her harshly. "I know all about wide-eyed little lasses who slap a man when he suggests they’re anything less than a lady. The next time you lift a hand to me. I won’t be a gentleman about it."

 

Lainie made a sound that could have been a laugh or a sob. "Gentleman? You? No gentleman would force himself on a lady."

 

"But then you’re not a lady are you? You’re someone who ran away from a caring family and was paid handsomely for service rendered."

 

"No man ever paid for anything for me. And no one ever will. I'm not a whore," she gritted out between clenched teeth, her breaths coming in tiny spurts.

 

"You just gave your, uh, favors away?" Slade suggested ironically. "And Bertram was so grateful that he left a little present on the bedside table. Is that it?"

 

"You just don’t give up do you? Bertram’s a pig." Lainie said icily.

 

Slade rolled aside, freeing Lainie. Before she could move away, his hand settled on her stomach suggestively.

 

"I won’t stop until you admit the truth, little fox. And I won't muddy the water, by leaving a purse by your bed in the morning."

 

"Go to hell, Englishman," Lainie said tightly, her voice steady despite the tears of shame and rage in her eyes.

 

Slade saw only the rage. It occurred to him he would be wise not to turn his back on this woman until her temper cooled. Lainie was quick, very quick and she looked fully capable of picking up a rock and hitting him over the head with it.

 

"Mad enough to kill aren’t you?" he asked sardonically. "Well, don’t worry. Nobody ever died of shame. Now, talk."

 

Lainie watched Slade through shimmering blue slits. He lifted one dark eyebrow.

"If you don’t feel like talking I can find something else to fill the time."

 

~ * ~

 

"Damn her!" Bertram whirled on the soldier. "What do you mean you can't find her?

 

Don't tell me she got away?" Bertram had never had so many incompetent fools working for him.

 

"Slade has her," the soldier said taking a step backward as spittle flew from

 
Bertram's lips.

 

"Where the bloody hell is Slade? He should have been here days ago."

 

In a fury, Bertram ran his arm across the table. Plates and glasses crashed to the floor. He paced the length of the table then back, hitting the palm of one of his hands with a fist. Damn her. Since the day he sent Slade, he'd had a bad feeling in his gut. Moreover, he'd been impotent since that day. All he could think of was the length of Lainie's hair winding around his body and how she'd felt when he'd been deep inside. Just the memory of Lainie made his blood run savagely. He wanted her with an ache so bad he couldn't sleep at night. None of the women he'd had brought to him could satisfy him.

 

"If Slade doesn't get here soon, I'm going to try him for treason" He was supposed to bring her to Edinburgh. At this rate, Slade would never get his release from the army. A smile swept across Bertram's face. He'd like nothing better than to keep Aaron Slade in his service, doing his bidding.

 

But he wanted Lainie first. Once he had her in his bed, all his problems would be righted. He would make Slade watch. Slade was a lady's man. It wouldn't surprise Bertram if Slade had her several times before he made it here. He could live with that. He'd had her first.

 

"What do you want me to do, General?" The man had backed himself toward the door as if he were ready to bolt.

 

"Go back to Jericho and tell him he'd better find Slade and the girl. I want her here."

 

"But sir, Lainie MacPherson has a bounty on her head. She will go to the prison." The soldier's hand found the door handle.

 

Bertram's arms flew in the air, "Bring her here."

 

"But sir--"

 

"Go on. Go before I have you put in the prison."

 

The man saluted then fled the room.

 

Bertram sunk into a chair, wiping his brow. Sweat beaded around his lips and slid down his chin to his neck.

 

The door opened slowly, a girl of about sixteen slipped into the room.

 

"You sent for me?" she asked.

 

Bertram looked up. He didn't smile but he patted his heavy thighs and motioned for the girl to sit there.

 

She looked to the door as if she wanted to run. Bertram's smile grew even wider.

 

"Come here, he beckoned with one hand
. "
I won't hurt you."

 

He watched her swallow hard and waited.

 

She moved forward but her steps were small and hesitant.

 

Good, she is afraid. This is much better than the last Scottish lass. Perhaps tonight he would be able to relieve the horrible burning ache that had possessed him for too long. Her fear was good. Terror reminded him of the MacPherson lass. Aye terror was good.

 

He licked his lips and drank long and deep of the sweet red wine that he'd poured.

 

"What's your name?" he asked.

 

"Lainie," she told him.

 

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