Never Seduce a Scot (The Montgomerys and Armstrongs #1)(90)

“You’re mad,” she said incredulously. “At least I only pretended madness. You are truly afflicted in the mind.”

He backhanded her with his free hand, knocking her head back. But he held her in place with the hand he still had twisted in her hair so she had nowhere to go.

He turned her head forcefully back so she had to look him in the eye again. “And you, Eveline, will be thought dead when no one is able to discover your whereabouts. No one will hear your screams. No one will ever find you. You’ll be mine to play with when I need amusement. In time you’ll be grateful for any attention I bestow upon you.”

“Never,” she lashed out.

He forced her face even closer to his, and then he kissed her. It was a bruising, punishing force that so repulsed her, she gagged. She tried to insert her hands between them, but fell short when the chains prevented her from reaching that far.

When he deepened the kiss and she felt the brush of his tongue over hers, she bit down, determined to put an end to the forced intimacy.

He thrust her away, rage in his eyes. He wiped at his mouth, and his hand came away stained with blood. This time when he struck her, he let her fall away, releasing her hair.

She fell to the floor, pain jolting through her limbs when the chains went taut, nearly yanking her arms from their sockets.

“Don’t touch me again,” she yelled with all the bravado she had left.

He stood over her, his mouth twisted into a sneer. “I’ll do a whole lot more than touch, Eveline. You belong to me now. Be a good lass and I’ll come visit you often. I’ll even try to remember to bring you food and drink on occasion.”

Then he reached over, took the torch from the sconce, and stalked away, taking the light with him.

Darkness settled over the small, airless room, and with it, despair so thick she choked. It overwhelmed her, seeping into her very soul.

Nay, she wouldn’t allow herself to lose hope. Graeme would find her. She had every faith in her husband. She would remain strong until he came for her.

CHAPTER 42

Dawn crept over the horizon and Graeme stood before his assembled clan, fury, impatience, and worry vying for control. They’d searched the keep, the river, and the surrounding lands. They’d left no stone unturned and there was still no sign of Eveline.

He wouldn’t accept that no one in his clan had seen Eveline or knew of what happened to her. There were no missing horses, and there was no way Eveline could have made it away on foot in her condition. Which meant that someone had to have taken her or aided her in some way.

He couldn’t dwell on the latter thought, because then he’d have to accept that she’d gone willingly. She’d given him no cause to believe that she would have left so abruptly. After standing by his side and protecting him so fiercely, why would she have left him the moment he was recovering?

Nay, it didn’t make sense, which meant that someone had her. Someone had taken her against her will and could be harming her even now. He had to push away the image of her frightened and hurt or he would lose all semblance of control.

“ ’Tis everyone, Graeme,” Bowen said grimly. “Every last woman and child.”

“Keep your eyes open,” Graeme said in a low voice. “I cannot judge them all. Someone is telling an untruth. We must find out who before it’s too late for Eveline.”

Bowen’s expression grew fiercer. He nodded and then motioned for Teague to go in one direction as he headed in the other, so they could better survey their gathered clansmen.

“Someone is not telling the truth,” Graeme said loud enough that his voice carried over the quiet courtyard.

His soldiers, those he considered among his most trustworthy, were spread in a wide circle, their arms crossed menacingly over their chests. They watched just as Bowen and Teague watched, their gazes sweeping the crowd.

“Eveline was last seen by Mary in the kitchens last eve. Eveline disappeared just after and yet none of you witnessed anything.”

“Maybe she went back to her own clan,” someone called loudly from the midst of the assembled gathering.

“Hush your idiocy!” Nora yelled, her face mottled and red with anger. “The lass did not desert our laird. ’Tis disloyal of you to say such a thing.”

“All I’m interested in hearing is who saw Eveline and if any of you have information on her current whereabouts. It will go far easier if you admit to such knowledge now. If ’tis found out later that you knew and something happens to Eveline as a result of your refusal to speak, the penalty will be death.”

As Graeme said the last, his gaze drifted over the group of women who’d made things so difficult for Eveline. Most of them looked genuinely worried, but it was Kierstan’s expression that drew further scrutiny.

She was pale, visibly nervous, and she kept glancing away and to the distance, as if she wanted to be as far from this place as possible. She wiped her hands down her skirts and tried to blend further into the crowd.

“And I promise, your death will not be quick,” Graeme said, pointedly speaking toward Kierstan, hoping for a further reaction. “For every hurt heaped upon my wife, I’ll exact equal measure from the person responsible. You’ll pray for death before I am done.”

Kierstan looked near to fainting. Desperation simmered in her eyes to the point Graeme was sure she must know more than she’d let on.