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‘I don’t remember, and he usually doesn’t need a reason.’
Conall felt pity squeeze his chest. ‘If I were free from this cage, I would hold you, Kenna, so close to me, all through the night and take away your pain.’
‘How would you do that?’
‘Every which way I could think of and some of them too shameful to say aloud, for you are so very pretty, Kenna Moncur, that you could lead a man to damnation.’
Kenna could not discern his meaning, for sometimes Conall spoke in riddles. All she knew was that he confused her and thrilled her and what he had just said sounded like something sinful, of secrets and bedchambers and naked bodies coiled around each other, something between a man and a woman. She was eighteen years old, and in all her life, nobody had ever said anything like that to her.
Conall’s eyes took hold of hers, black with some strange passion. Heat flooded her face. Perhaps he was playing her for a fool. She knew she wasn’t pretty.
‘Stop teasing me, Conall.’
‘I’m not.’
‘I know you are. You think I am a fool, don’t you, that you can flatter me and throw lies at me, so I will do you bidding.’
‘Forgive me if I offended you by my compliment. It was sincere and kindly meant. No need to throw it back in my face.’ He snatched his hand away. ‘If you think I’m a liar, you’d best go and leave me be.’
How changeable this man was, warming you like the summer sun one minute, all thunder and darkness the next.
As Kenna climbed the stairs out of the dungeon, she wished with all her heart that there were no bars between them, but a small part of her feared it too. Conall was clever, fierce and dangerous. What was she? Just an ignorant girl who knew nothing of life, or love or passion. She was but a lamb to his wolf. Let him free, and that wolf may devour her, but how could she not succumb to the pull of him when there was this untameable need to get closer to him?
Whatever path Conall Campbell led her down, to death, dishonour, ruin, it would all be worth it for one night in his arms and to still this yearning in her.
Kenna spent the rest of the night in a feverish state, tossing and turning and imagining what it would feel like if he did hold her in the darkness. Her mind was in such a state of distraction that when she strode out into the yard the next morning, she only barely registered the fact that there were many extra horses there, pulling on their tethers as a rumble of thunder sounded overhead. Visitors?
Euan was leering at her from across the yard.
‘Seems your father has guests,’ he shouted, looking especially smug.
She stared at him mutely, wanting him to go away.
‘Aren’t you interested, Kenna? You should be, for one is very eager to see you.’
Just at that moment, she saw Donald Menzies rushing towards her across the yard, picking his way between puddles, his face pulled into a leering grin. ‘Kenna, my dear, good news, my wife has finally passed, and I am free.’ She could only stare at him in horror, rooted to the spot. ‘Yes, that old bitch has finally wheezed out her last breath, and so tomorrow we are to be wed.’
Kenna wanted to turn and flee as fast as she could in the opposite direction. Instead, she let him take her arm and lead her inside.
Chapter Ten
Rory winced and bellowed at Angus Muir. ‘For God’s sake, get off me and stop fussing like an old woman.’ Having fallen off his horse, he was in a foul mood.
‘T’will fester lord if you don’t clean it and ooze pus and such wounds are...’
‘It’s a sprain and a cut is all. It doesn’t require amputation, you bloody fool. Just bind the damn thing and be quick about it.’
Angus grabbed hold of his leg and tried to tear off Rory’s boot, but it was jammed onto the swollen leg too tight, so he began twisting and turning it roughly, this way and that. It was akin to being mauled by a bear.
‘Christ man, your hands are like meat hooks.’
‘I’d better fetch someone Laird.’
‘No, you…you do it. I don’t need anyone to.…’ But Angus was already scuttling off, and after what seemed like an age, whilst his ankle throbbed horribly, Rory heard footsteps outside his chamber. Monnine entered with a steaming bowl of water, bandages and a nervous look on her face.
Rory groaned and looked away. ‘Are you going to say I told you so?’
‘Do I need to Laird?’ she replied.
