She sucked in her lip and bit it between her teeth.
“I need ye to tell me where she is,” he hated the urgency that made his voice harsh.
The lass cowered a bit and took a step back.
“Tell me what ye ken, Gretchen,” he demanded.
“She, M-miss Gordon made me promise no’ to say anything, Your Grace.”
He took a slow breath, trying to tamp down his anger. “Understood, but she may be in danger. Where has she gone?” He got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Would she go there? He wanted to think she wouldn’t. But where else could she possibly be?
The lass looked at him with fear in her eyes and he hated that he made her feel that way, but he couldn’t be bothered with that right now. Clarissa was his priority.
Nicholas came up behind him, and made the poor lass cower even more. “Where is my sister?” he demanded, before Gwen pulled him back.
“Sh-sh-she has gone to the Kitt estate,” the lass confessed quietly, tears sprouting in her eyes before she covered them with her hands.
Alexander’s stomach dropped, his biggest fear come true. “Ready the horses,” he snapped to the stable hand that stood near the end of the line of staff. “I will leave for Kitt’s at once.”
“No’ alone, ye willna.” Nicholas stepped forward.
“I will ride with ye, as well,” Malcolm joined them.
“As will I,” Finlay and Gunn said in unison.
Alexander looked around at his friends, thankful and proud of their unity. Their brotherhood.
“Ready five horses. Quickly,” he commanded.
The boy nodded and rushed off to the stables, a couple of others following him to help.
Alexander could see naught but red. His anger simmered just below the surface. “If he has laid one fucking hand on Clarissa, I will skin him alive,” he vowed.
*
Clarissa sat awkwardlyin the small dining room. Its faded wallpaper told stories of better days. The chipped dinnerware did the same. Jacob sat at the head of the table and had insisted that she sit beside him on his right.
She poked around at the meat, was it fowl? She couldn’t tell. It had been severely overcooked, and it no longer resembled its former self. Jacob didn’t seem to mind as he roughly sliced through the tough meat. His actions causing the whole table to shake. He popped a bite into his mouth and chewed loudly, his mouth wide open as he did so, bits of food escaping with each chomp.
His lack of manners didn’t surprise her. She had expected as much. And while she didn’t really eat the fare that had been set in front of her, she did take note of the knife she was given. Thinking it may come in handy later in the evening, she took advantage of Jacob’s distraction and slipped the knife off the table and slid it into the sleeve of her gown.
She would need to move carefully as not to give it away.
“Is the food to your liking?” Jacob asked, his mouth full of the bite he’d just taken.
Her eyes met his as they bored into her. Pushing around the boiled potatoes, she nodded. What else could she say? Nay, the food is disgusting? She certainly could not. No matter how uncouth Jacob Kitt appeared, she could not stoop to his level. She had been taught manners, had gone to etiquette school. She wouldn’t go so far as to eat, but she had full confidence in herself that she could maneuver the items on her plate in a way that would convince Jacob that she had eaten.
He wouldn’t expect her to eat everything on her plate anyway. That would not be in the least bit proper.
After clearing his plate, he patted his stomach and belched loudly, the sound echoing off the room’s faded walls.
Clarissa bit her tongue and hid her disgust.
“Are you finished?” Jacob leaned in and asked, his mouth close to her ear.
She shivered at the nearness and her stomach threatened to revolt at the stench.
He leered at her reaction, licking his lips.
