Page 70 of Dark Seduction

Malcolm’s face hardened. “He wants the page fer himself. An’ maybe fer Moray.”

All pleasure disintegrated. “Royce would disagree. He says Aidan is good.”

Malcolm’s brow rose. “Good? He does good when it be his interest to do so. Nay fer selfless reasons. I am tellin’ ye, Claire, and this one time ye will obey me. Dinna trust him, not ever.”

Claire was not going to argue with him now. Besides, this was a promise she could easily make. “If it’s that important to you, then I give you my word. I will never trust him. However,” she added as he started to move his horse down the trail, “I hope you are wrong about your half brother.”

He darkened. “Dinna remind me o’ the miserable fact o’ his life. We may share blood, but he is nay my brother, half or otherwise!”

Claire followed him down the trail, wondering how Mairead could have left Malcolm at such a tender age and how she could have turned her back on Aidan, just after his birth. She didn’t want to judge the woman, as she had suffered a heinous crime. But both Aidan and Malcolm were the most innocent victims in the tragedy engineered by Moray. It was a damn shame they couldn’t become friends.

The pass had wound through high ridges, most of it at elevations just above sea level. Suddenly, the forests opened up onto a brilliant green expanse of marsh, grass and shrub dotted with thick pine trees and blooming with yellow and pink wildflowers. The wooded fields ended in the sparkling azure waters of Loch Awe.

And rising from the loch was Castle Awe, a huge walled castle of red-brown stone with numerous towers, high ramparts and a central building four or five stories tall. Twice the size of Dunroch, Awe was surrounded by water. White swans floated near its walls. There was another island, also walled, connected by a bridge of land, where she saw stone buildings and peasant huts, and where some scrawny cattle grazed. The scene was picture-postcard perfect.

The drawbridge was down.

“He waits fer us,” Malcolm said grimly.

“How would he know that we’re here?”

“Aidan has very strong powers o’ the mind. Ye stay back in the midst o’ the men,” he told her. He galloped ahead, joined by Royce and Ironheart.

And that was when the thundering of hoofbeats began.

It was déjà vu. That terrible, ominous sound, an invitation to death, was one Claire was never going to forget. She had hoped to never hear it again. The sound of an oncoming army of Highland warriors intent on battle and death was a nightmare come true. She turned, seized with fear, and saw hundreds of mounted men galloping upon them.

Malcolm, Royce and Ironheart drew to a halt at the head of Malcolm’s men. Instantly, they were surrounded by the warriors. Claire realized not a single sword was drawn, not even Malcolm’s.

One of the opposing men rode forward and faced Malcolm. He wore full armor, but his visor was up. Claire strained to hear, but the exchange was in Gaelic. Instantly, the giant signaled everyone forward to the lowered drawbridge.

Claire’s fear escalated. Was Aidan taking them prisoner?

Claire prodded Saint into a trot to keep up with the men as they were herded over the drawbridge and through the raised portcullis. This land bridge seemed to form an outer bailey, as she saw buildings for the garrison there. She could only see Malcolm’s back now and, while aware of his tension, could not discern anything else. They were urged through another gatehouse, a middle ward, and then a huge gatehouse with four high, defensive towers. The moment the last of Malcolm’s men had entered the last inner bailey, the portcullis slammed closed behind them.

Claire flinched. They were certainly prisoners now. She looked carefully around at her surroundings. The castle inside the bailey was huge, with a half a dozen buildings built into the walls. Her gaze flew to the central keep facing them.

The dark wooden door of the hall opened and a man stepped out, standing two stories above them.

It was Aidan. “Hallo a Chaluim.”

Malcolm rode his gray horse past the giant and to the stone stairs leading up to where Aidan stood. Claire expected him to stop there but he did not. He drove the gray right up the stairs until the steed stood beside Aidan, making Malcolm, still mounted, tower over him. “We come in peace. I wish a word with ye,” Malcolm said tersely in French.

Aidan laughed, clearly not at all perturbed by Malcolm’s actions. “I ken why ye have come, Malcolm. Please, my home be yer home…brother.” His gaze moved past Malcolm, who was flushed with a rising temper, and settled right on Claire, never mind that a half dozen Highland men surrounded her, each one taller than she.

He smiled. “I wouldna leave the woman alone with my men, Malcolm,” Aidan said softly in English. “She be far too beautiful.” With that, he sent her a courtly bow and turned to go into his hall. “Leave the stallion in the stables.” He strode inside.

Malcolm wheeled his gray, looking dangerously pissed, and galloped it down the stairs. Claire didn’t blame him. Aidan was provocative, to say the least. Malcolm moved through Aidan’s men. Halting his blowing steed beside her, he held out his hand. Claire understood and leaped from her nag to his charger. She wanted to whisper to him to take a few deep breaths, but decided this was not the best time to try to tell him how to proceed. Instead, she laid her hand on his shoulder, hoping he would find some composure before he went into Aidan’s hall.

He looked back at her.

Claire hoped he was reading her mind this one time. It’s all right, she thought. He hasn’t really done anything except to be as annoying as a spoiled brat.

Malcolm made a sound and turned away, riding through Aidan’s men. At the foot of the stairs, he urged her to dismount, then vaulted to the ground, as well. One of his men ran to take the stallion from him and they started up the stairs.

Claire looked down into the bailey at the assembled troops and she shivered. Then she glanced toward the front door, which Aidan had left open. The sun was setting behind the hall, so she could not see inside, and it gaped at her, a black void.

Malcolm was right. Aidan was not to be trusted. Claire didn’t know what he wanted or what he would do if Malcolm decided to be belligerent. She was afraid of what his comment about her looks had meant. He was as dangerous as a cornered tiger.