“Och, ye are leaking again. My man poked ye a bit harder than intended.”
The MacIntosh man stated this matter-of-factly, as if to hint to Sawny that his injury was intentional.
Sawny set his jaw and lowered his eyelids. He would not let a single word the man said provoke him.
Keep your focus on Adaira. Her golden hair, her round hips . . .
“Where is the letter, Sawny? We ken ye MacDonalds have it.”
The letter?
He was here because of the letter that no one could find? That everyone in the Highlands was searching for?
Not because of clan conflict or because he beat the skin off a MacIntosh man?
And why him? Hecertainlydid not have it.
The Glen Coe MacDonalds had the closest thing – Mungo Gordon’s red case that once housed the mysterious letter. Why had they snatched him?
“We grabbed ye because ye were low-hanging fruit,” the MacIntosh said, as if reading his mind. “But if need be, we’ll head for Glenachulish where your betrothed’s kin has the Gordon box.”
Sawny’s heart froze in his chest. This man knew very well who Sawny was.
Nay, he thought, as if his sheer force of will could command this man.Stay away from Adaira.
How much did this man know? Sawny recalled what his father had said.They dinna know what we know . . .
Yet they seemed to know more than his father had intimated. No matter what, Sawny had to keep his mouth shut. And they’d never try for Adaira. Glenachulish was centrally located in Glen Coe lands, well-fortified, and she was flanked by two older and two younger brothers, plus a wealth of cousins and uncles to protect her. Not to mention her father, or her mother Sorcha, whom Sawny could envision burning the MacIntoshes or Campbells to the ground if they even tried to hurt her daughter. That woman was probably more dangerous than all the Glenachulish men put together.
Adaira is safe.
Thus he remained silent.
He heard the slapping sound before he fully felt the smack across his cheek, and his body rocked in the chair. He did not have the energy to stop himself from toppling over, and one of the MacIntosh guards caught him and set him upright.
Sawny worked his jaw under his stinging skin and clenched his fists at his sides.
This is no’ good.
He tried to keep his face hard and expressionless – all the while he had a sinking sensation that he was not leaving this dungeon anytime soon, if at all.
Sawny lifted his chin, but his eyes were still narrow as he took in the MacIntosh who sat on a stool across from him. The man’s kilt dipped between his bony legs as he leaned his forearms on his knees.
“Who are ye? Why do ye unleash your misplaced venom upon my person?” Sawny asked, his tone mocking.
He’d already been struck once. Might as well get some information from him before they beat him bloody in this torture chamber.
The man grinned, his crooked teeth glinting under his thin scruff of graying beard.
“Misplaced, och. ‘Tis fresh, MacDonald. Breadalbane has requested we inquire with a MacDonald about your progress in your search for the letter,” he answered, and Sawny knew whatinquiredactually meant. Slippery John Campbell, the Earl of Breadalbane, was a staunch supporter of the Hanover king. Yet this man wasnotSlippery John.
Then who was he and why was Sawny presently the recipient of his hospitality?
“And ye are?” Sawny ventured to ask.
The man’s grin remained steady. He swept his arm low and folded briefly at the waist. “Chieftain Kelso MacIntosh, at your service.”
Sawny did not miss the note of facetiousness in the chieftain’s voice. He’d heard of the Kelso chieftain, nothing good. The man was one of Breadalbane’s weak-spined lackeys and no one of import. His lands were minor, and his only real claim in the MacIntosh clan was through his wife’s sister who had married a Campbell. The man probably would never have owned more than a nag of a horse, let alone land, crofts, and a title if not for that relationship.
