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“Robbie will—”
“Yer precious Robbie will still be drinking’ ale wi’ ’Is Majesty an’ workin’ out which whore tae fuck tonight.” The cruel expression hardened. He leered at her bared legs. “Not a dilemma I share. I ken exactly what skinny English wench I shall plough this night. So, ye need no’ fret, my wee sassenach bitch. We shallnae be disturbed…”
“If you touch me, my husband will kill you. And you.” Katherine spat the words at her assailant and the treacherous Angus MacKinnon, then scrambled backwards in the cart in an attempt to distance herself from them.
The manic sound of his laughter grew louder. He rocked back and forth on his heels, taking a delight in her terror that verged on deranged, then he lunged forward to seize one of her ankles in his meaty fist. He dragged her forward until she almost bounced right off the end of the cart. “Ye’ll nae doubt be i’ need of a piss. Ye can get it done now.”
He was right. Her bladder had been prodding her for the last hour or so, no doubt encouraged by the unremitting jolting and bouncing. But she would die before saying as much.
“I… I am fine. Just let me go, and no one need know what has happened…”
He ignored her response. “Last chance. Relieve yersel now or lie back an’ spread yer legs. If ye make a mess, mind, I shall take it out o’ yer hide.”
Katherine gaped at him, aghast. She could not believe this was happening. This vile brute meant to force himself upon her, right here and now. Worse, she knew full well that once he had done that, he would never let her go alive. He could not allow her to tell the tale and bring Robbie’s wrath down upon himself.
“You…you do not want to do this. Just let me go, and… I do not even know who you are.”
His leer widened. “Did Angus no’ explain? Then allow me tae introduce myself. I am The Fenwick.
“The…?” She blinked, uncomprehending
“Callum Fenwick, laird o’ Clan Fenwick, master o’ Fynmuir,” he announced importantly.
“The Fenwicks. I know of you…”
“Aye, so ye should. I had the pleasure o’ slicin’ me sword through yer brother’s gullet meself.” His features spilt in a wicked, vicious grin. “That were a good day.”
Katherine was sure she was about to lose what little might be left of the breakfast she had enjoyed in the apartment at Edinburgh Castle. It all seemed so long ago now. “You?Youkilled John?” She recalled the battered, broken, and lifeless body, the day his men brought her brother back to Elborne.
“Aye. ’E fell nicely intae the trap we laid, an’ ’e paid fer ’is mistake.”
“You robbed us, ruined our crops. John was just defending what was his.”
He shrugged and slid the dagger back into his belt. “Aye, well…”
He moved fast, quicker than she expected. The savage suddenly snatched the front of her soiled gown in his fist, and with a sharp yank, he ripped it almost to her waist. Her hands were still bound, so Katherine could do nothing to prevent him feasting his eyes upon her bared breasts.
His grin widened. Callum Fenwick turned to gesture to the handful of men who lurked a few feet away. “Did I no’ tell ye there was meat beneath that dress. Good, firm meat.”
They shuffled closer, the men’s curiosity and lust almost a match for their fear of their leader. Angus MacKinnon appeared especially interested in the sight before him.
’Urry up, laird,” muttered the closest one. “Me cock be fit tae burst.”
Callum Fenwick laughed out loud. “This fine piece o’ sassenach flesh would be wasted on your spindly cock. Ye can ’ave a good look, though.” He stepped back a pace to permit all his men to have an unimpeded view of the woman quivering on the cart. “I might even let ye touch ’er. Would ye like that, young Gilbert?”
Apparently, young Gilbert was delighted at the prospect. He scuttled forward, rubbing his hands, only to find himself flying backwards and landing on his backside in the nettles. He never saw the punch coming. Callum Fenwick stood over his hapless, bewildered clansman. “Let that teach ye tae wait yer turn, laddie.”
The Fenwick laird turned his attention back to Katherine. “You. Get on yer back an’ spread yer legs.”
“Never,” she spat, gathering what shreds of courage she might have left. If this was to happen, it would not be without a fight. Without some show of defiance. After all, matters could not get any worse, she thought.
She was wrong.
“No?” His smile was cruel now, calculating. “Ye shall learn tae mind yer manners an’ do as ye’re told.”
“You are a vicious, rutting bastard. The king will hear of this, and he will—”
Fenwick backhanded her across the cheek, sending her flying across the bed of the cart. Katherine tasted blood in her mouth, bitter and metallic. It trickled down her chin and dripped onto her naked breasts. Her jaw throbbed, already starting to swell, and her ears were ringing from the force of the blow.
