“What did you do?” he yelled as he came towards her.
He stumbled, but one of the guards caught him, yet he thanked the man by shaking him off violently and swearing at him. When he turned his attention back to Amanda, he screamed, “You tried to kill me!”
Amanda felt a surge of rage, but she knew from experience that the best thing to do was to try to calm him down.
“I would never do such a thing, my Laird,” she said evenly. “My work is to heal, not to kill. What makes you think I was trying to harm you?”
Struan’s face twisted in pain. “I am in agony,” he replied. “What poison did you give me? Tell me, or I will set my men on you!”
“I did not give you any poison,” she replied. “I gave you milk of the poppy to take away your pain and help you sleep, but the effects have obviously worn off, and your pain has come back. Please lie down, My Laird, and let me take it away again.”
She clasped her hands together behind her back so that he could not see them trembling, and tried to school her face into an expression of calmness, but it was hopeless; she was too frightened.
But Struan was not listening. He advanced towards her, his eyes gleaming with spite. He had picked up a candlestick and was waving it around threateningly, and for a few seconds Amanda was frozen to the spot.
Then she looked down at his leg and realised that he could not move as fast as she could, and she turned on her heel to make for the door. However, she had reckoned without the guards, who both dived forwards to grab her, holding an arm each, and no matter how much she struggled and screamed their grip was relentless and brutal.
She saw Struan coming towards her, and she could hardly bear to look at the expression of pure hatred on his face. He was an ugly man under any circumstances, but at that moment he was almost unbearably so.
He raised the candlestick and watched the terrified expression on Amanda’s face with dark glee. He was enjoying his moment of triumph and was milking it for all it was worth.
“Please don’t—” Amanda pleaded, but Struan only laughed.
“Oh, I love to hear women begging!” he said, his voice loaded with spite. “Are you frightened, my dear?” Then his expression changed again to one of utter rage as he raised his arm to strike.
However, the blow never came, since at that moment a deafening bang was heard behind them. It came from deep within the castle and reverberated like a huge drumbeat from every wall and passage.
The guards turned and ran out, letting go of Amanda’s arms, but as she moved backwards to escape from Struan, he lunged forward with a last desperate effort and wound his arm around her neck.
“Now, you whore,” he muttered, “I will give you just what you deserve for disrespecting me!”
Hamish was consumed with fury and determination as he and his men rode towards the castle under the cover of darkness. He would have loved to spur his stallion on to move at a thundering gallop, but there was not enough light, and stealth forbade the lighting of bright lanterns.
Gregor looked over at his friend’s harsh expression. He had never seen Hamish looking so focused and determined before, or so angry. He looked as though he would smash his fist through the first person who gainsaid him.
“Hamish,” he called. Hamish looked around, and even in the extremely dim light Gregor could see fury in his eyes.
“Keep calm, Hamish,” he said. “Ye will be nae good tae us if ye lose control o’ yoursel’.”
Hamish nodded, then said, “I know you’re right, Gregor, but if he does anything to Amanda, I swear it will be the last thing he ever does.”
“Ye love her,” Gregor said.
“With all my heart,” Hamish replied. “And I will fight to the death for her, Gregor.”
He knew he could not allow his heart to soften as he thought of Amanda, however. Now he needed it to harden to do battle with Struan.
If he took Struan alive his half-brother would spend the rest of his miserable life in a dungeon, and although Hamish thought it would be more merciful to kill him quickly, he was not a cold-blooded murderer. He would only resort to taking Struan’s life if it was a matter of self-defence or protecting Amanda.
Amanda,he thought desperately,wait for me. Please, I love you. I will die for you if I have to. Please don’t leave me.
As the lights of Inchkeith Castle drew near they were able to speed up, and their horses thundered up over the wooden bridge to the gate, where Hamish leaned over to the guard on duty.
“Bring McNeill here,” he barked.
“Who’s askin’ for the Laird?” the man asked, surprised by Hamish’s lack of deference.
Hamish wasted no more time. “I am the rightful Laird,” he growled. “Now let us in, or I will kill you where you stand.”
