Her panic turned into horror as she darted to the doorway, only for the Laird to appear.
“Bring the lass here,” he ordered over his shoulder.
Lavina craned her neck to spy around him. A dark shadow drifted down the hallway. She could only assume it was the Laird’s man-at-arms.
She swallowed hard as the Laird stepped into the hall, blocking her path.
“Where’s Maisie? Ye’ve killed her, have you nae? That’s the reason ye wanted to keep me trapped in yer chambers,” she spat, fighting back the tremors.
Yet her body trembled like the last leaf on a branch fending off the bitter winds of winter.
“What? What madness is this?” the Laird asked, taken aback by the accusation that shot out of her mouth like a whip. “Ye’re callin’ me a murderer?” He stalked closer until his breath fanned her cheeks. “Have ye lost yer wits?”
Lavina’s blood ran cold, and she hoped her glare matched the violence in his. “Me family. Ye killed me family, and now ye’re lookin’ to finish the job. It’s why ye’ve taken her from me. Well, if that’s the case, then ye might as well do the same to me. I willnae return to me uncle. I willnae.”
“Lavina?” Maisie’s voice cut through the air like an arrow whizzing through the forest.
Lavina spun on her heels, her world stuttering to a halt. With every ounce of her strength sapped, she crumbled to the ground.
“What have I done?” she whimpered as Maisie fought back against the rough hands of the guards.
“Clearly, ye have trust issues,” the Laird muttered, motioning for the guards to stand down. “Still, I warned you.”
“Laird McGowan, please…” Lavina tried to protest, but the words failed her.
“Stephen, take Maisie to the blue room,” the Laird ordered. “I need a word alone with me wife.”
Stephen stepped up to Maisie and jerked his head. Her eyes widened with uncertainty. It was clear she didn’t want to leave Lavina’s side, not when things were looking so dire.
Still, Lavina had disobeyed. She’d stepped out of the room and accused her husband of horrendous things.
“Lavina?” Maisie whispered, as if Lavina would give her the go-ahead to leave.
“I’ll be all right,” Lavina said, praying that she wasn’t lying to her sister as she locked eyes with the Laird. “Now, go.”
Maisie darted down the hallway without saying a word.
Lavina lowered her head and waited until the silence settled. Her chest tightened as the Laird circled her.
“I told ye what would happen if ye leave the room.”
“What’s the blue room?” Lavina asked, the words clogging her throat as violent images flashed through her mind.
“Tell me why ye made such accusations,” he said, his voice steadier and calmer than she had expected. “Who were yer parents?”
“Me faither was Michael Lewis, and he was married to Patricia. I had a braither too, Fredrick. Do any of these names ring a bell?”
“Watch yer tone. I am showin’ mercy and restraint; I would suggest ye dinnae challenge me,” he warned, swooping in next to her, the murderous look in his eyes nearly scaring the wits out of her. “And to answer yer question, nay. The names dinnae ring a bell.”
“Then ye’re a liar.”
“Is that right?” he drawled, his voice just as calm and icy as ever.
If there was one thing Lavina understood, it was fear. Her uncle had instilled it deep into her bones.
“I’ve been called many names over the years, and that one hurts the most. I’d say between ye and I, there is a liar and there is a sinner. Ye tell me which one ye are. Now, get up.”
The Laird grabbed her under her arms and pulled her back to her feet. She hated that she had no strength to stand. No matter how much she willed her limbs to move, they refused to obey.
