Page 21 of Highlander’s Escaped Prisoner (Highlands’ Partners in Crime #7)

A s Gregor Blair rode into the courtyard of Castle Drumblane, he was greeted by Roy Guthrie, who smiled and extended a hand to him as he dismounted from the great piebald warhorse he was riding.

“Beautiful horse, Gregor,” Roy said admiringly, to break the ice since they both had an interest in fine horseflesh. “I have not seen him before.”

Gregor smiled and bowed. “Thank you, Roy,” he said politely. “I got him at the Oban horse fair not two weeks ago. I call him Marble.”

“And your old steed?” Roy inquired.

“I put Meg out to pasture,” Gregor replied. “She was an old and faithful servant and deserved a quiet retirement.”

The small talk over, the two men entered a nearby parlor where Roy poured them each a glass of wine.

“Why did you want to see me?” Gregor asked. “The usual matter? Or is it about my son?”

“Your son?” Roy looked puzzled. “Why should I want to talk about your son?”

“Please, Roy,” Gregor said scornfully. “We have known each other for a very long time, so please do not treat me like a fool. I know you have seen him. I know he has met with your daughter. Is there anything else I should know?” He looked at Roy expectantly.

“You know that Nessa helped with his escape?” Roy asked.

“I do,” Gregor replied. “She has turned into a fine woman, Roy.”

“She has persuaded me that Bryce is innocent.” Roy heard the other man’s gasp of amazement. “I will invite him to join us tomorrow.”

“I cannot say how happy that makes me,” Gregor answered, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “But how can I prove his innocence?”

“We will discuss that tomorrow amongst other things, Gregor,” Roy answered. Then he raised a finger in a gesture of warning. “There will be no more bloodshed between our families.”

“We said that last time we met,” Gregor pointed out, “and look what happened.”

“Well, it will not happen again!” Roy barked, his face thunderous. “I do not want outright war, Gregor, and I am sure you do not either. Come to the council tomorrow.”

“I will,” Gregor offered his hand to Roy. “And this time, we will have peace. Now, I need to speak to young Logan Crosbie. Do you know where he is?”

“I know where his father is,” Roy answered, frowning. What did Gregor Blair want with the Crosbies?

They found Jamie in the guard room in the keep playing cards with some of his friends. He looked guilty at having been caught relaxing.

“’Tis my day off, M’Lairds,” he explained.

Roy laughed and waved the explanation away. “You need to rest, Jamie. Have you seen Logan?”

Jamie shook his head. “No, M’Laird,” he replied. “But he is likely out ridin’ that new mare o’ his. Worships that beast!” He tutted, and the lairds laughed.

“Tell him I wanted to see him,” Gregor said, then turned to Roy. “I will see you tomorrow, M’Laird.”

Bryce was becoming impatient and more than a little worried.

It was twilight, and Nessa had been away for hours.

Bryce had begun to pace the clearing in front of the trees, convinced that something was not quite right, and the more time went by, the worse the feeling became until he could stand no more.

Nessa was in trouble—he knew it. The guard beside him had fallen asleep, and Bryce made up his mind.

He was convinced that Nessa needed him, and he was not going to let her down.

He would be her champion, now and forever.

He ducked into the tunnel and began to move along it, hoping that he could find his way and that the stub of candle he had left would last until he found her.

He seemed to have gone for miles and was sure that he had lost his way when he heard it: a woman’s voice screaming for help.

He could not make out any words, but the sound sped up his heartbeat and spurred him on.

“Nessa! Nessa!” he called at the top of his voice. He could not tell whether it was her or not, but whoever the woman was, she needed him.

The noise was coming from above him and to the right, and he followed it until he came to a panel in the wall that slid outward to his touch. Now he could hear the words.

“Get off, you swine!” Nessa screamed, just as Bryce emerged through the wall. Bryce felt a blaze of rage shoot through him as he took in the sight of Logan on top of Nessa, his face a mask of lust as he gazed at her before he bent down to kiss her.

“Fight me! Please fight me, my lovely,” he growled, laughing. “There is no pleasure without pain.”

Nessa turned her head away, but he caught her chin and forced her head back to face him.

His eyes were dark with an evil desire that chilled Nessa’s blood. “Kiss me, or I will punch you as you punched me,” he growled.

Nessa let her body go limp, and he bent down to clamp his mouth over hers, but when she was sure that their lips were together, she bit down as hard as she could on Logan’s lower lip.

“There is no pleasure without pain!” she reminded him, roaring into his ear.

He screamed in agony, blood streaming from his mouth. As he clamped his hand over the wound, she rolled sideways so that he was flat on the bed, then inched sideways a little more until he toppled over the edge to land on the bare wooden floorboards with a painful thump.

“Let me go, you swine!” she roared. “Or my father will tear you limb from limb!” Nessa was unsure of what to do next. Her hands and feet were still tied, so she used the only weapon she had left—her mouth.

“Help me! Help me!” she screamed, again and again, until her lungs felt that they might burst. She knew that it was probably futile, but she had to try.

Logan was getting to his feet painfully slowly, but there was a deadly purpose in his eyes.

“You told me to fight!” Nessa spat, then her eyes widened as she looked at the shape that had appeared just over Logan’s shoulder. “I am following your orders.”

Logan frowned as Nessa’s expression changed.

He turned, but it was too late as an arm reached from behind and grabbed him in a stranglehold, then began to squeeze more and more tightly until Logan’s face began to turn crimson.

Then, just when Nessa was sure that he was about to fall to his knees, Logan drove both of his elbows backward into Bryce’s stomach.

“Take that, big man!” he growled.

Bryce staggered backward and hugged his stomach, loosening his arm from its chokehold on Logan’s throat. He was almost too winded to stand up straight, but he managed it somehow.

However, Logan was not finished. He bunched his hand into a fist and struck Bryce under his chin, snapping his head back. Bryce overbalanced and fell on his backside on the floor, and Logan threw back his head and hooted with laughter.

“Look at you, you big girl’s blouse!” he scoffed, standing over him and howling with laughter.

“Not so clever now, are you? You know who killed Gerald Guthrie? I did!” He thumbed himself in the middle of his chest. “Do you know who whipped you in Roy Guthrie’s dungeon?

I did! Do you know who made sure you spent seven years in jail?

I did! And do you know who is going to make sure you don’t say a word about it? I am!”

“I see,” Bryce said evenly. He was seething inside, but he was not going to show Logan how angry he was.

If Logan wanted to crow, then Bryce was not going to stop him.

Every second his enemy was speaking gave him a little bit more time to recover.

“And now that you have admitted it to us, what are you going to do?”

“Well, I have to kill you, of course,” Logan replied, shaking his head sorrowfully. “I cannot let you live. I am sure you understand.” He grinned.

“And me?” Nessa asked. “What are you going to do with me?”

Logan turned his back on Bryce to speak to Nessa, and that was a mistake.

Bryce leaped up behind him, whipped him around, and swiped him across the face with a fist like a club.

Logan would have fallen, but Bryce was holding him up by the front of his shirt and kept him upright until he judged that he had administered enough punishment.

When he let go, Logan was dazed and bleeding and crumpled to the floor as soon as Bryce released his hold.

“So you think you are very clever?” he snarled. “You kept me locked in a cell for seven years and rejoiced in your achievement? Let me give you something else to enjoy since you like pain so much!”

“No, please!” Logan whimpered. “I am sorry, Bryce!”

“Not sorry enough!” Bryce snarled.

When Bryce ceased his assault on Logan and sat back, he looked down at Logan’s face; an ugly mass of bruises and blood.

Presently, he realized that Nessa was still bound hand and foot, and he hastened to untie her, then pulled her into his embrace. “I will never let you go,” he whispered. “Did he hurt you, my love? Did he...touch you?”

“No,” she answered, sighing with relief. “You came just in time, Bryce. When I think what could have happened...” She buried her face in his chest and began to weep bitterly, and he held her while her pain and anger drained away. “Thank God we found each other, Bryce.”

“Amen to that, my love,” he murmured, as he stroked the chafe marks on her wrists.

“At least he tied me up with ribbon,” she mused, trying to find a little humor in the dire situation. They both looked at Bryce’s bandaged wrists.

“The scars will always remind me of you,” he murmured, smiling. “Now, shall we go?”

“What about Logan?” Nessa asked anxiously as she looked down at the battered body on the floor. “Shall we leave him here? He is in a bad way.”

Bryce knelt down and felt for a pulse at Logan’s throat. “His heart is still beating, more’s the pity,” he said through gritted teeth. He bent down and put an arm underneath Logan’s shoulders and the backs of his knees, then stood up and deposited him none too gently on the bed.

Nessa looked on, amazed at Bryce’s raw strength. Logan was not tall, but he was a well-muscled man, and Bryce had lifted him as though he weighed no more than a feather.

“I will send a healer to take care of him,” Nessa said flatly. She should have felt something as she studied Logan’s prone form, but in truth, there was not a twinge of emotion anywhere inside her. “Come, let us go.”

He looked down into her stormy gray-blue eyes, wondering how he had been so fortunate to find her. “I will never let go of you,” he whispered.

“And I will never let you,” she replied, kissing his lips softly. “We are two halves of the same soul.”