Another scream pierced the air, this one closer. At the last door, he kicked the latch and the door banged against a heavy piece of furniture. He shoved it back enough to get a quick glance inside the room.
What he saw froze him to the spot.
Claybourne held Calla before him, his dagger to her throat. She wore naught but a cut rope around each wrist. What the hell? He'd had her tied up?
"Bastard!" Rebbie rammed his shoulder against the door, knocking the chest out of his way.
"Stay back or I'll cut her throat!" Claybourne yelled, hunching behind Calla and using her as a shield.
"Coward!" Outrage and bloodlust smashed into Rebbie so hard he could scarce think. He wanted to charge the bastard and lop off his head, but knew he couldn't. He had to get Calla out of his grasp first. "I swear I'm going to kill you for this, Claybourne!"
"Not so fast, Highlander. Tell him," he said to Calla, his blade grazing her throat. Too damned close.
Fear lashed Rebbie. "You bastard, at least let her put on some clothes." If he could get a small opening, he'd take the whoreson down.
Claybourne laughed nervously. "What? Don't you wish anyone else to see your whore naked? Your beautiful treasure? She's mine now."
"Release her or you'll die," Rebbie commanded.
"Tell him, my sweet," Claybourne said near Calla's ear.
"His steward." Her voice was unsteady, tears trailing from her eyes.
"What about him?"
"If you kill Claybourne…" Her voice caught. "His steward will deliver missives to parliament about… about Jamie."
"Where is the steward?" Rebbie demanded.
Claybourne cackled. "Do you think I'm daft enough to tell you that?"
"No matter. You'll be dead, so 'twill mean naught to you."
"If you're going to kill me, I'm taking her with me to hell." Claybourne tightened his arm around Calla's body, holding both her arms trapped to her sides. "Is that what you want?"
Rebbie forced himself to think, listening to his own harsh breathing. His heart near beat out of his chest. He locked his eyes on Calla's, trying to make her see that he loved her and that he'd do anything for her. Anything.
A surge of determination entering her eyes, she yanked one arm free ofClaybourne'sgrip and shoved his knife hand away from her, at the same time twisting aside and exposing more ofClaybourne'shead and body.
Seeing the opening he needed, Rebbie drew his pistol, aimed and fired. The flash near blinded him and smoke filled his nostrils. His ears rang from the report of the gun. He rushed across the floor toward Calla. Claybourne lay in a small pool of blood, a bullet hole in his forehead, his eyes staring blindly.
"Calla!" Rebbie grabbed her to him. Thank God she was alive. But blood covered her arm. "You're hurt."
"Aye." She clutched onto him, her hands shaking. "His blade cut my arm when he fell."
"Hell. How bad is it?" Snagging the covers from the bed, he yanked off the counterpane and a sheet. He covered her in the counterpane and used the sheet to blot at the blood dripping down her arm.
Sounds of a battle in the corridor reached his ears. More ofClaybourne'sguards must have followed them inside. He was confident Lachlan and the others could handle them.
After ripping off a strip of the sheet, he wrapped it tightly around Calla's forearm and tied it. "'Twillstop bleeding soon. Did he hurt you in any other way?"
She shook her head, tears dripping from her eyes. "I thank you for coming."
"Tell me, Calla," he forced himself to say in the calmest voice possible. "Did he force himself on you?"
"Nay. Almost, but he heard the fighting outside. Someone cried out… and blades clashed. But… his steward. As soon as he learns ofClaybourne'sdeath he will send the missives about Jamie to members of parliament. Our son's life will be ruined."
Chapter Twenty-One
