Page 22 of Highlander’s Fruit of Eden

Mistress and Mistrust

I t was a blur to Amelia, partly because of the black hood that was affixed over her head but also because of the way that she was handled.

Before being taken from the Laird’s room, she had her hands bound behind her back.

That, combined with the hood, meant that she could do nothing.

She tried to scream out, and a hand was clamped forcefully over her mouth—so much so that it hurt.

The odd man out of the three had been the one to take her, and she was sure that it was his hand over her mouth. He was much stronger than he looked, and she dared not scream out again after that for fear that he would do much worse.

Amelia was forced through the hallways of the castle, her legs scurrying so that she would not trip.

She must not have been taken by a conventional route, for someone would have seen her bound and with a hood over her head.

She wondered where Jon was; if he had been sent away from the castle—if she would ever see him again.

The temperature dropped, and there was a scratching noise; it was faint, but it sounded like stone against stone.

She was pushed forward and then brought to her knees by a cold wall.

The bindings were removed from her wrist, and a metal shackle was attached to one of them.

Once she was safely bound, the hood was removed.

Light came from a couple of places on the walls—candles, or torches, or lamps—and it was bright enough for her to have to blink until her eyes were able to make out the stone room, a large prison cell. The sound of stone scraping was heard again, and then silence.

“Help!” shouted Amelia. “Help!”

“Like I did nae think of that,” came a voice. “They cannae hear ye. Nay one can hear ye.”

‘Who is there?” asked Amelia.

“What did he put ye in here for?” asked the woman.

“I would not marry him,” said Amelia. “The Laird wanted me as a wife, but I love another.”

“Ironic, isn’t it,” said the woman. “Ye are in here because ye wouldnae marry Vincent, and I’m in here because I wanted to.”

“Who are you?” asked Amelia.

“Me name is Ada.”

“I’m Amelia.”

“Aye, I ken,” said Ada.

“You know who I am?” asked Amelia.

“Aye, unfortunately, I do. I just want to start by apologizing to ye, even though ye have no right to ever forgive me for what I did. I thought that I could have him, but he’s despicable that man.

I should have kenned he would do somethin’ like this, but I was in love with him. I am in love with him.”

“You tried to have me killed,” gasped Amelia, shocked at the realization.

“Aye,” said Ada. “And, I’m sorry that I ever did. All I ken is that the Lord must have been lookin’ out for ye, and I’m glad that ye werenae killed. I regretted payin’ the man right after I did it, and I wish that I could take it back, but I cannae.”

“He stuck you down here for trying to kill me,” said Amelia.

Ada laughed. “Nay, that was just an excuse. He does nae care for me life, and he does nae care for yers. He put me down here because I ken too much. I ken the things that he’s done, and I ken that his nephew should be the one in power.”

“What?” asked Amelia.

“Aye, he spoke about it to me. He loves his nephew, but he cannae stand him at the same time. Jon is the one who should be Laird, and it scares Vincent. I can see it in his eyes.”

‘You have proof of this?” asked Amelia. She was forming plans in her mind.

“Nay,” said Ada. “Just the word of the Laird, but it’s me word against his.”

“Why did he not just have you killed?” asked Amelia. “Or me, for that matter.”

“Why do ye think?” asked Ada. “He liked havin’ me in his bed, and he wanted to have children with ye. Why do ye think he would keep us in a secret dungeon?”

“Oh, my gosh,” said Amelia, covering her mouth.

“That’s why we have to get out of here,” said Ada.

“But how?” asked Amelia.

“I dinnae ken yet.”

“There is something that I do not understand,” said Amelia. “Why send me the letter? It sounded like you were jealous of my relationship with Jon.” She knew that she should be angry at the woman, but she was currently her enemy’s enemy.

“I had to cover me tracks. If they found ye dead, and, again, I’m glad that yer nae, then they would not have traced it back to me.”

“Yes, that makes sense. But why send a letter to Jon too.”

“I did nae send him a letter,” said Ada.

Jon wandered. Not just through the castle but through life.

It had only been a day since Amelia had been attacked, but it felt like a lot longer, and that was mainly because she had not been seen since then.

He had not been able to speak with his uncle either.

The Laird had kept Jon busy with tasks around the castle, and Jon blindly followed the orders, hoping for a chance to speak with his uncle, and constantly missing Amelia, both literally and metaphorically.

The only positive in his life was that his uncle did not seem set on marriage anymore.

Jon had managed to insert it into conversation shortly after the attack, and his uncle had assured him that he was rethinking the entire thing, and maybe marriage was not right after all.

Jon did not quite trust his uncle, but it did give him hope.

With any free moment he had, Jon walked through the castle grounds, the gardens, the kitchens, talking to people, but no one had seen Amelia, almost as if she had disappeared. He just needed a moment with her, but he had not found it. Yet.

Jon was outside the castle, walking through the trees in a brief moment of respite, thinking of Amelia, when the kick came to his back.

He was sent flying forward into a tree, his head hitting the trunk.

A wrench came to his shoulder, and he was flipped around to see a hooded face above him.

Jon tried to shout out, but a fist caught his cheek before he could.

There was a taste of metal in his mouth as his lip bled.

The flash of metal was unmistakable, and the knife was plunged down toward his chest. His training kicked in, and he brought up both hands, his wrists crossed over each other to stop the arm from coming down.

Another punch came, and his head was knocked to the side.

The knife came again, and Jon was able to grab the man’s wrist this time, pushing the blade back up before it could cut through his skin.

Jon wriggled his knee up between him and the man, gaining a little more space.

Another punch came, but Jon managed to move his head to the side, dodging it.

He brought his own fist up, still holding the man’s wrist with his other, and connected with a bony jaw.

The grip on the knife slackened, and Jon did not waste any time, bringing his fist back and launching it forward again to collide with the man.

The knife fell from the assassin’s grip, and Jon pushed his other leg up under the assassin, kicking with both to push him back. The assassin tripped backward over a tree root and fell. He scrambled to get up, but before he could, Jon was on top of him with the recently dropped knife.

“Who sent ye!” shouted Jon.

“I don’t kn—”

“Who sent ye!” demanded Jon. He pressed the knife against the man’s neck, ready to cut it. “If ye dinnae answer me question correctly, ye are nae going to be able to answer another.”

“The Laird,” stammered the man.

“What!” said Jon. “Why? Why did he send ye after me? And Amelia?”

“I dinnae ken,” said the man. “The job was only for ye, but I did nae have any details. I couldnae refuse the man, ye have to believe me.”

“On yer feet,” said Jon. He hoisted the man to his feet and started dragging him toward the castle, removing the knife from his throat and pressing it to his back.

“If I find out that ye are lyin’ to me, I’m going to have ye hung and quartered.”

“Nay, nay, it’s true,” said the man. “I can prove it to ye. Me brother was there when the Laird came to me. He was in the other room, so the Laird probably did nae see him, but he’ll back me up.”

“Aye, we’ll see,” said Jon. “Was he the one who came after Amelia?”

“I dinnae ken what ye are talkin’ about. I was only sent after ye, that was me only job.”

“He could’ve sent someone else,” muttered Jon to himself.

“What are ye going to do with me.” asked the man.

“Yer to be locked in the cells until I can figure this out. Then, we’ll talk.”

“I kenned that it was weird, his own nephew and all that, but I wouldnae have fared well if I had refused.”

“Less talk,” said Jon.

He took the man straight to the captain of the guards, handing him over to be imprisoned.

Once the assassin was safely in custody, he went in search of his uncle.

He did not find him in the Great Hall or the study, but there were other places he liked to be.

Jon knew of the library but had let his uncle believe it was his secret place.

This was not the time for secrets anymore.

When Jon got to the door, he knocked on it and heard the voice from within. When Jon entered, he was met by a surprised look on his uncle’s face. Vincent took another sip of the whisky he held and shook his head slightly.

“Surprised to see me, Uncle?”

“Aye,” came the response, slightly slurred.

“And why might that be?” asked Jon.

“I did nae think… I did nae think that ye kenned about this room.” Vincent took another sip of the whisky.

“It’s time to stop playin’ dumb,” said Jon.

“Don’t you speak to me like that.”

“Was it ye who sent the assassin after Amelia? Just like ye did to me?”

“What? What are ye talkin’ about? Ye ken I did nae send an assassin after Amelia? We sorted that whole mess out. And what is this about an assassin comin’ for ye?”

“Aye, ye really should hire better men, Uncle. I have him locked up, and he’s ready to tell me everythin’. He’s already told me that ye sent him.”

“Oh, he would have said anythin’ to save himself. Why would I send an assassin after ye? I love ye like a son.”

“Aye, I don’t doubt that, but yer scared of losin’ yer power, aren’t ye? Ye’ve always been scared of havin’ me around, even if I’ve done nothin’ to deserve it.”

“Oh, ye have nay idea what ye are talkin’ about, Jon.

Look, why don’t ye sort things out with Amelia first, and then we can talk about yer mistaken ideas.

If ye have the assassin locked up, let him cool a little, and I’m sure he’ll tell ye the truth.

I’m nae going anywhere, and ye can still catch Amelia if ye go now. ”

“Catch Amelia?” asked Jon. “Where has she gone?”

“Back to England?”

“England?” echoed Jon.

“Aye, what did ye expect.” Vincent stumbled a little as he strode around the room. “After what happened to her, she’s become a scared little mouse.”

“When did she go?” asked Jon.

“Ye could probably catch her before she leaves the castle,” said Vincent.

Jon dashed from the room.