Page 47 of The Chief's Wild Promise

The chieftain made a tutting sound. “Not so hasty … there will be time for us to discuss matters later. For now … just enjoy my hospitality.”

“I don’t want yer hospitality,” her father shot back, his fury spilling over. He lunged for the chieftain then but was hauled back by the two men who held him.

Unperturbed, Campbell nodded to his warriors. “Take them upstairs.”

Unsurprisingly, they put Makenna and her father in separate chambers.

Thrusting her through the doorway, the men slammed the heavy oaken door behind her. The grate of an iron key turning in the lock followed.

She flung herself at the window then, fingers grasping at the shutters. But they too were locked. Makenna cursed, whirling around and surveying the four walls enclosing her. There was no way out of this chamber.A brick of peat burned in the hearth, and an oil lamp sat next to the canopied bed, casting the room in soft golden light. A bowl of water waited on a stand near the window, steam rising from its surface.

In other circumstances, she might have found this chamber comfortable. But now, she saw it for what it was. A prison.

The others have it far worse though.

Makenna choked out a curse. She’d thought Campbell may have announced his plans this evening, that he might have put them all out of their misery, but he deliberately hadn’t.

He was playing with them.

Trembling, she sat down on the edge of the bed.

It was hard not to let fear take over now, not to let her imagination run wild. They were trapped in Black Duncan’s web, and he clearly had plans for all of them. Tormod’s presence among the Campbells added fuel to her rising panic.

Makenna’s fingers clenched into fists, her nails biting against her palms. The pain steadied her and made her focus. “Hold fast, lass,” she whispered. “The others need ye to be strong … to have yer wits about ye.”

They did. She had to breathe deeply, calm her thoughts, and come up with a plan.

They weren’t beaten yet.

Campbell wouldn’t lock her up in here forever—and when she was brought before him again, she’d be ready.

“I have two favors to ask, Dunc.”

The laird glanced up from where he was pouring himself a large cup of ale. “Oh, aye?”

“Aye.” Tormod slid onto the bench seat next to Campbell, his gut tightening as he did so. He’d been biding his time before asking this, but he couldn’t wait any longer.

“And the first?”

“Ye’ve got the clan-chief … but his daughter … I want her for my own.”

They were alone at the table, for supper had ended and only a few men remained in the hall—a group of them playing knucklebones a few yards away. Robbie Campbell was among them. The chieftain’s wife, Janet, had retired for the evening.

He had Campbell’s ear now.

The chieftain didn’t reply immediately, and the long pause irritated Tormod. He didn’t like to be made to wait. Nonetheless, Campbell was the one with all the power here, and so he swallowed his annoyance.

“Makenna Mackinnon is a fiery one.”

“She is that.”

“Have ye met her before then?”

“Aye,” Tormod replied lightly. “She visited Dounarwyse while I was there.”

Campbell favored him with a long, hard look, one that made Tormod resist the urge to squirm. His deep-set eyes were like two dark pebbles. “Why haven’t ye mentioned this before now?”

“It didn’t seem important.”