Kelso slapped the riding crop against his palm as he had done the gloves. His entire body exuded a sense of menacing control and ghastly delight at what he was about to do.
Kelso moved as quickly as a cat pouncing on its prey, and the riding crop struck Sawny high on the shoulder.
It stung like madness, as quick and sharp as Kelso’s own movement, and he hissed as his skin peeled away from his body in a narrow line that bled through his tunic.
“Where is the letter?”
Sawny leveled his eyes at the man. He opened his mouth with a reply that would assuredly reward him with a second strike of the whip — probably more than one — when another man, this onenotin a black vest, appeared in the half-open doorway.
“Milord. A visitor has arrived.”
Kelso cursed under his breath.
“Have Breadalbane wait in my study,” he instructed the man over his shoulder.
The man fidgeted at the doorway.
“’Tis no’ the earl or his messenger.”
Kelso stiffened for a moment before twisting toward the man quaking in his shoes.
“Then who is it?”
“He says his name is Duncanson, and he has something for ye. He insists ‘tis something ye must see right away.”
Throwing a final irritated glare at Sawny, Kelso tossed the riding crop on the table and stormed from the chamber, the poor messenger scrambling after him.
The guards released him as Kelso exited. Without a word, they gripped Sawny’s upper arms again and dragged him back down the darkened hallway, tossing him unceremoniously into his cell.
His shoulder stung where it slammed against the stone, but he was in far better shape than he anticipated he would be.
Despite the fact he was back in his dungeon, he was grateful for the messenger.
He might not be as lucky next time.
A narrow sliver of sunlight slipped from the slit and cast his prison into shadows. Sawny hung his aching head in his hands and tried to gather his thoughts.
If the Campbell Earl or his representative was on his way, it meant any torture for information was bound to get worse.
Whether he knew anything or not no longer mattered. He’d lose everything from his fingernails to his sanity while they worked him over.
Sawny ground his teeth at the thought. He understood how torture worked.
If Breadalbane made it to Kelso’s keep before Sawny found a way to escape, he was completely doomed.
Those thoughts only made his head ache more, because he had no options and no idea how he might breach the thick wooden door and find his way out of this dungeon.
Mired in his dismal prospects, he did not hear anyone outside until the door squeaked open. Sawny did not turn his head. He knew who was at the door.
Addison slipped inside and then did something he typically did not do.
He closed the door near completely. He’d have to use his fingertips to pry the door open again.
Now Sawny lifted his thrumming head and narrowed his gaze. Addison carried a tray of food, this time covering the tray with a cloth.
Another thing he did not typically do.
Addison set the tray down next to Sawny.
