Page 76 of Marin’s Promise

Bran said her name, but she ignored him. The water was too dark, and her heart was pounding too hard.

She had to find it. She had to kill him.

All of this had to stop.

Strong hands closed around her arms, restraining her. The man who had lied to her, the man who would see them all condemned, the man she had found herself beginning to love.

The pain of his betrayal slashed through her. She jerked her hands free with incredible strength. He reached for her once more and she lashed out with her fist.

He avoided her blow. “Listen to me, woman.”

Her chest and arms were nearly submerged in her desperation. Water splashed on her face and the sandalwood scent she once found so pleasing sputtered from her lips and clung in her throat.

Where was the blade?

Bran caught her arm once more, his grip gentle despite the firmness. “Damn it, woman. Listen to me.”

“You would have us all killed.”

“Ye dinna see the first page.”

Marin stopped floundering against his grasp.

His shoulders relaxed, but his hold on her remained strong. “There was a first page to the missive. The only one ye saw was the second page, the one I assumed was missing.”

“You're lying,” Marin said flatly.

She could make out his face at such close proximity and the flex of his jaw.

“I'll show it to ye, but I'm sure ye dinna trust me.”

Marin kept her face expressionless, masking the hurt and betrayal. For if he was lying, she would not let him live to witness the pain he'd caused her. He would not be worth such emotions. She shook her head slowly.

“It's in my gambeson on the chair.” His grip loosened. “I'd get it, but I'm sure ye'd think I'd spring out of here bare-arsed and attempt to ride to warn Kerr of yer knowledge.”

He released her, but she did not move. Was this a trap? It could be an opportunity to get the advantage and attack her.

“How could you do this to us, Bran?” Marin asked, her voice clogging with the emotion she had been trying to stifle.

He gestured to a nearby chair by the fire. “I’ll no’ say words ye willna believe. Go to my gambeson and get the missive.”

She backed away from him, leaving a dripping trail in her wake. With her gaze fixed on him, she carefully searched through his pockets until she found one with a bit of parchment lodged within. Her heart slammed as hard in her chest now as it had when she had been only moments from killing him.

With trembling fingers, she unfolded the blood-spattered note, following the same creases as its twin, the sheet she'd intercepted earlier that day. There, in the same scrolling handwriting, was a plea from Bran to Kerr to see the Werrick household, the earl and his daughters all safe. But that was not all, it was a demand for the safe release of Ena.

Marin lifted her head and stared at Bran. “They have Ena?”

Bran’s jaw flexed and he looked away, the way hardened men did when in pain. “Kerr tried to enlist my aid for the last several months, but I dinna work with rich men. They dinna care about people other than themselves.” Bitterness laced his tone. “And so, when Ena married an Englishman from the English Middle March side, he arrested her for breaking the law.”

Marin sucked in a breath. “It’s punishable by death.”

Bran nodded.

“But no one enforces such a law,” Marin protested. “English and Scottish marry all the time.”

“True, except for the Wardens of the Marches who find a way to get what they want.” Bran shifted and the water in the tub spiraled out around him. “I deliver him Werrick Castle and he releases Ena.”

Marin’s thoughts whirled with this new development. Ena was all Bran had left of his family. “Why didn’t you tell me?”