After entering his chamber and closing the door, he took a seat on the settle by the fireplace. He glanced at the bed, a desolate, lonely place. 'Twas doubtful he would get any sleep this night. Not after the conversation he'd had with Kristina… and the kiss.
Saints, how he wanted her.
He did forgive her. But he could not lose himself in her again, not now. Not until he was convinced she would never reject him again.
One thing was certain, the first task he had to complete was capturing Red Holme. 'Twas his responsibility, his duty, and the final thing he could do for his father. Naught could distract him from that.
***
Red Holme crept up the narrow back servants' stairs from the great hall, Scroggie following. He knew he would never have legal possession of this fine castle… but neither would the Camerons. Certainly not that whoreson Colin.
Holme had easily eliminated Maitland Cameron, and now 'twas time to eradicate the rest of them. An excited thrill racing through his veins, he smirked in the predawn darkness, then slipped along the keep's second floor, trying not to step on squeaky boards. He didn't want to alert them too early. Still, he carried a soot-covered canvas and some bags, while Scroggie carried a chimney brush. If discovered by a servant or one of the sleepless Camerons, they wanted to look as if they were going to work early.
'Twas about a quarter hour before daybreak. He knew some of the kitchen staff were already up, baking bread, but most of the Camerons were still sleeping in their beds, unawares. He smiled, imagining the Camerons trying to find an enemy who had vanished.
A door opened and softly closed farther along the dim corridor. Unable to identify anyone in the gloom, Holme halted, and he and Scroggie silently crept back to the alcove where he'd lurked last night, near the end of the corridor. From there, he had watched Kristina when she'd gone up after supper. That was how he knew which room she occupied. Now, quiet footsteps receded down the main stairs before he could see who it was. Obviously, the person was trying to be quiet and not wake everyone. Could have been a maid.
"Are you ready?" he whispered to Scroggie.
"Aye. Let's get her and be gone from here."
At Kristina's door, Holme tried the latch, but the door wouldn't budge. He muttered a curse under his breath. Quietly, he tapped his knuckle against the wood. Mayhap she would think 'twas her beloved Colin and open the door eagerly. He grinned, hardly able to wait to see her and touch her again.
"Who is it?"
Trying to recall what Colin sounded like, Holme disguised his voice, deepening it. "'Tis me."
A few moments later, the latch rattled, and Kristina inched the door open a crack. He didn't give her time to say a word. He barged into the candlelit room and clamped a hand over her mouth while Scroggie closed the door behind.
She tried to scream, but little sound emerged. Shoving at him with her inferior strength did little… until she kneed him the groin, sending a bolt of pain through his vitals. He almost dropped to his knees.
"Omph. Damn you, slut," he hissed quietly. "Help me with her," he whispered to Scroggie. They picked her up, restraining her legs, and deposited her on the bed.
She yelled beneath his hand and punched him in the cheekbone with her fist. A surprising amount of pain radiated from the spot. He grunted. The bitch! He'd had enough of this. When he flipped her facedown on the mattress, she slammed her elbows back against his belly, then attempted screaming again, but the sound was not loud enough.
He placed his mouth against her ear. "Be quiet or I'll kill your beloved Colin. I have him tied up in the byre."
She grew quiet and still.
"Now, that's better." Quickly, he pulled out the strips of tough canvas he'd already cut to length and tied a gag in her mouth. Next, he bound her wrists behind her back and tied her ankles, while Scroggie held her.
"Don't worry, my sweet. I won't let you burn to death. I'm going to rescue you." Holme rolled her up in the large, sooty canvas he'd brought. "You will be safe with me outside. You can thank me later." Grinning, he took the fire poker and, as quietly as he could, broke out the narrow window so the fire would have plenty of air. Through the hole in the wavy glass, he could see a couple of servants below in the bailey.
He dragged Kristina, bound up in the canvas, toward the door, then he turned to Scroggie. "Let's head to the laird's chamber. Make sure the corridor is clear."
"Aye." Scroggie stuck his head out the door, looked both ways, then motioned.
Holme held the candle's flame against the bed covers. After waiting a moment to make certain the covers caught afire, Holme picked up Kristina and tossed her over his shoulder.
They hastened down the corridor to the empty laird's chamber. Scroggie opened the door, waited for Holme to enter, then closed it again.
Holme laid Kristina down on the floor for a moment, where she kicked and squirmed about, thumping the floor. "Hold her down and keep her quiet."
Scroggie grabbed her legs and forced her to be still, while Holme opened the door of the secret panel behind the firewood box. He took the candle from Scroggie and tossed it onto the laird's bed.
"Make certain the fire is well caught. When you enter the passage, close the secret panel door behind you," Holme whispered. They would be long gone before anyone discovered the fire.
***
