Patrick had her here under his roof. He sure as hell was not waiting for their wedding.
“As my brother says in his letter, this situation with Wedderburn must be handled carefully to avoid trouble with the Humes and their allies.” Her fingers flitted nervously to her headdress as she spoke. “He thinks it important that Wedderburn be judged for his crime by the Council so that the blame does not fall on you—or on the Douglases. He urges you to bring him to Edinburgh as quickly as possible.”
“I already have this castle and my enemy in my dungeon,” Patrick said. “I’ve no need for his cautious advice.”
“My brother has extremely high ambitions, as I’m sure ye know,” she said, folding her hands. “He’ll not agree to the marriage if it hampers his larger goals.”
This was odd, indeed. Alison had always been quiet and meek. Though she came from a family that had been involved in royal schemes for too many generations to count, he had never heard Alison speak of men’s affairs before.
His kitten had gotten above herself. He would return her to the timid lass of his fantasies and enjoy the process.
He drummed his fingers again. Why was she arguing so fervently for him to bring Wedderburn to the Council? Was it a ploy to save his life?
All the years when she was wed to his kinsman, she had wanted him. Patrick was sure of it. But that was before Wedderburn. The Beast was young and virile, and he had a build and looks that attracted women like flies.
“Is it true that you and Wedderburn had been living separately?” He knew it, but he wanted to watch her face as she said it.
“Aye,” she said. “I couldn’t bear the sight of him after what he did to Lord D’Orsey.”
Had he seen a touch of sadness in her eyes before she answered?
Alison had said she looked forward to being his wife. But was it Wedderburn who owned her heart?
He knew just how to find the answer.
***
Patrick gripped Alison’s arm and jerked her to her feet. She looked wildly around the crowded hall as he dragged her across the room to the stairs that led to the undercroft. But there was no help for her among the Blackadders.
“You’ve no need to pull me,” she said, fighting to keep calm. “I’m happy to come with ye.”
He ignored her plea. When she stumbled on the stairs, he lifted her off her feet and carried her to the bottom before setting her down again. Once he hauled her past the kitchens and storerooms, she knew where he was taking her.
The dungeon.
David must still be alive, or Patrick would not bring her down here. Despite Patrick’s vicious hold and frightening behavior, relief washed through her.
When they reached the iron grate door of the dungeon, Patrick took the torch from the bracket in the wall and held it up to the grate.
“Take a good look at him,” he said, pushing her forward with his hand at her back. “He’s not as handsome as he was.”
She realized this was some sort of test and steeled herself to see what Patrick had done to her beloved.
“Wedderburn!” he shouted. “Alison is here.”
There was no answer, but she heard a soft moan coming from the darkness at the back of the cell. Patrick took the long key that was attached to his belt and opened the lock on the grated door. With one arm around her waist, he dragged her inside the cell and thrust the torch in front of them, lighting the far corner.
David was slumped on the ground and chained to the wall with manacles. Tears sprang to her eyes to see her proud husband, the legendary warrior and laird of his clan, chained like an animal.
As her eyes adjusted to the gloomy light, she saw gashes and dried blood on his feet and legs. Her gaze traveled upward to the bloody pulp that was his hand resting on his knee.God help me, what has Patrick done to you?She dug her fingernails into her palms. No matter what she felt, she must not show it.
His head was resting on his other knee, cushioned by his arm, so she could not see his face. His shirt was bloody and torn, but they had not stripped him of it. That meant he still had the stone.
Hold on, love. I’m here.I’m here!
***
David heard his enemy’s voice saying her name.