Page 30 of The Highlander’s Auctioned Bride

CHAPTER 30

James lurked in the darkness behind Bram and Lillian.

As they reached the main cellar, adjacent to the dungeons, they came to a halt.

They were illuminated by the torches that burned at the edges of the room, but James was able to hear them perfectly.

“Ye idiot girl,” Bram said harshly, his fingers clutching at Lillian’s upper arm with such force that James could see her skin pinching about the tips. “What did ye visit yer uncle for?””

“He—he raised me, Bram,” she stammered. “I dinnae wish to see him hurt.”

“And why dae ye think yer uncle is in the dungeons in the first place? Because the laird is suspicious of him. Yer presence will nae help, only hinder. Dae ye want the finger of suspicion to point to ye? To me?”

James’s eyes sparked in the darkness as his hand tightened on the hilt of his sword.

“N—nae, Bram, of course nae.”

At her simpering submission, Bram’s anger reduced, and James grimaced as the older man tucked a stray hair behind Lillian’s ear.

“Ye ken that all of this is for ye. I dae everythin’ for ye, sacrifice so much for ye, and ye cannae even repay me by followin’ me orders.”

Lillian was crying again, her shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs.

“Ye ken that I care for ye,” Bram said. “Once ye are Lady MacLennan all of this will be in the past. We can be together with all the power we can wield in the world.”

“A—and Jamie?”

“ Laird MacLennan willnae be a problem for long lass; all ye need to dae is keep him sweet, and then we will be rid of him for good. The clan will be ours.”

James had heard enough.

Bram started violently as James walked out of the shadows, unsheathing his sword and pointing it at Bram’s throat.

“It was a foolish choice to discuss this in me own castle, Bram. Ye are nae as clever as ye believe.”

Bram released Lillian, shoving her to the side as he turned his big body to face James.

“Or perhaps it was a way to draw ye to me,” he said with satisfaction. “It is nae every day I can get a laird alone with no one to defend him.”

“I dinnae need anyone else to defend me, Bram. I can kill ye where ye stand quite easily.”

Bram unsheathed his sword, ready to fight.

“James, nae!”

James twisted his head round at the familiar voice from the doorway. His blade dropped a little as he saw Maisie’s beautiful face. She stumbled toward him, her travel cloak still about her shoulders, her eyes flicking between them all in uncertain amazement.

“Maisie,” he said disbelievingly a happy bubble bursting in his chest as he saw her.

Bram cackled wildly, careless of James’s blade only feet from him.

“Nae one but yer wife, it would seem,” Bram said harshly; looking at Maisie with such an expression of contempt, James was amazed he had been able to keep the facade up for so long. “Dinnae worry yer pretty little head, m’lady , yer precious laird will nae be yers to concern yerself with any longer.”

“James, what is happenin’?” Maisie asked as she walked across to him, keeping a little distance between them but staring at Bram in bewilderment.

“I told ye to stay away from here,” James said, edging over to her, trying to shield her from Bram’s gaze.

“But Marcus is still in the dungeons after I told ye I didnae think he was behind this.”

Bram raised his sword and all of James’s attention returned to him. Lillian was glancing between them frantically, clearly uncertain what to do.

“Ye have a smart little wench there, James,” Bram said scathingly, “nae like this simpering fool.” He turned and without warning slapped Lillian hard across the cheek. She fell to the floor and James cried out in horror as Maisie ran forward to help her.

Bram took the opportunity she afforded him, and his huge hands gripped Maisie’s traveling cloak, pulling her violently against his body, spinning her around, and bringing his sword to her throat.

James stood frozen, staring at those beautiful pale-blue eyes he loved so much, looking at him with such fear.

“Ye will step down,” Bram said heavily, his throat raw with triumph. “Lose yer clan or lose yer wife. It’s yer choice.”

James’s vision blurred as rage engulfed him.

“Nae one threatens my world and lives” he snarled, and with a flick of his wrist, the dirk concealed in his sleeve shot out. He hurled it at Bram, his aim certain and sure as it sliced into his right leg .

Bram buckled sideways, his arm loosening about Maisie’s throat, and she lurched away from him, bending to the floor to grab Lillian, and they both ran to the far side of the room as James advanced on Bram.

The man had dispensed with the knife, blood flowing freely from his leg as he hobbled backward, but James knew how good Bram was with a sword, this would not be an easy battle to win.

He swung his blade hard against Bram who parried back, slicing and cutting upward, putting James on the defensive. They circled one another Bram biding his time, both of them waiting for the other to make their move.

James sliced sideways, and Bram met him stroke for stroke. The clash of metal echoed all about them in the small room, deafening to hear.

Bram’s sword came down hard on James’s arm, but he sidestepped just in the nick of time as the blade cut him, but not deeply. He turned back to Bram using his size to bring his sword down from above him, forcing Bram to defend himself.

Bram was knocked back violently against one of the barrels, and his shoulder glanced against a metal support that held them in place. He hollered in pain as he twisted away, his back to James’s briefly as he turned about.

James saw his opportunity as Bram lowered his blade and leaped toward him, his sword high in the air. Bram blocked him, slicing back and forth, but the older man was tiring.

“I waited years,” Bram spat as he backed away. “Years of meaningless, juvenile conversation to keep that little fool sweet.”

James brought his sword down hard and Bram backed off further as their blades clashed.

“I had spent three damn years building the perfect bride for ye, and who did ye pick? Some nobody from Larkhill. Who is her faither? What is her station in life save from the title she stole from ye?”

He laughed as James’s blows became more erratic and Bram was moved back toward the wall.

“It isnae as though anyone would follow her if ye were gone! I should have put the poison in yer drink instead, that might have served me better.”

With a roar, James brought their swords violently together. Bram crouched back from him.

“Was it ye who hired the archer, too?” James thundered.

Bram just smirked. “Much good it did me. Bastard couldn’t even shoot straight.” He parried another blow, hollering as his shoulder caught at an odd angle. “Yer wife will never be accepted here. This is what comes of following a buxom figure and a pretty face,” Bram spat. “Ye’re just like yer faither.”

James swung his sword around in a final arc, leaning down to pull the dirk from his boot, bringing it up and slashing at Bram’s sword arm as he knocked it from his grip.

Bram cried out in shocked terror as James didn’t hesitate, plunging the sword right through the center of the man’s chest.

Bram gave one final gasp and then collapsed on the floor.

There was a scream from behind him as Lillian ran forward. She was sobbing wildly as she fell to her knees beside him. James didn’t know whether her grief was for Bram’s death or his betrayal, and he didn’t truly care. He could feel little pity for her, not after what she had almost done to Maisie.

Maisie.

He turned rushing toward her. She stood proudly in the corner looking at Lillian, her face flushed.

“Are ye hurt?” he asked frantically, his fingers gently covering her jaw, pushing her head back, and looking at her throat.

She pulled away from him. “I am well,” her voice had no inflection in it. James stood back, watching her.

“Thank ye for protectin’ me. Ye are right, I should have stayed away.”

James frowned at her. “What are ye talkin’ about?”

But before she could answer there was a frantic shout from the tunnel before them.

“Lillian?” They both turned their heads at the sound of Marcus’s voice. Lillian’s sobs were echoing all about them. “Lillian, my love, what is it? Are ye hurt? What has happened?”

“We must release him,” Maisie said quickly, going to Lillian and with a gentleness James could not understand lifted her to her feet. “Come now. It is all over. Lillian, come with me. It is all right.”

Lillian could only sob in response; her body wracked with misery as she walked away from the body of the man she believed she had loved.

They all walked out of the cellar towards Marcus’s cell, his face pressed against the bars and a look of relief on his face as he saw Lillian.

“James!” he said in surprise. “I didnae see ye. How dae ye come to be here?”

James unlocked the cell door, and Marcus ran to his niece embracing her.

“Ye are free to go,” James said flatly. “We have found the real culprit.”

“What? Who?”

James and Maisie exchanged a glance as Lillian collapsed into her uncle's body.

“I think ye need to speak with yer niece,” James said woodenly. “Bram Wallace was behind this, and he was usin’ Lillian as an accomplice.”

Marcus’s arms tightened on his niece in bewilderment.

“Lillian? Lily? What is he talking about?”

“I’m so sorry, Jamie!” Lillian wailed. “I am sorry, I am so sorry for everythin’.”

Marcus seemed baffled, holding her against him and staring at James.

“I ken ye werenae involved now, Marcus. But I dinnae wish to see Lillian in this castle again. Ye can dae as ye wish with her, but she is nae welcome on MacLennan land.”

He put his arm around Maisie, holding her close, feeling his gut finally settle now that she was with him again.

He pulled her from the dank, darkness and out into the sunlight.