“I wonder what’s keepin’ him?” he said softly. “I would have thought he’d have been here right away, desperate to save his bride. Maybe he daenae care as much as I thought.”
He shrugged carelessly, and Meredith saw red.
“He isnae here because yer hired thug knocked him out,” she shouted, throwing herself against the bars. “And if he’s harmed him, then so help me, I’ll…”
“Ye’ll do what?” Colby laughed cruelly, leaning forward to meet her gaze. “Forgive me, Me Lady, but I daenae think yer in a position to do much, are ye?”
“Och, do ye think so?”
Meredith stared at him for a long moment, their faces almost touching through the bars of the cell. Then, with one swift movement, she took a quick step back and spat viciously in Colby’s face, watching in satisfaction as her spittle met its mark, hitting him right in the middle of his grinning face.
That’ll wipe the smile off yer face, she thought grimly, as Colby staggered back in shock, raising a hand to swipe at his face and then staring at it in disbelief as he realized what she had done.
Meredith had just a second to regret her rash behavior before Colby was reaching into his pocket and pulling out a thick bunch of keys, cursing loudly as he did so.
“On second thought,” he said, rummaging for the right key, “Maybe I willnae bother waiting for Ryder to show up. I’ve waited long enough for that fool. Maybe I’ll just…”
“Me Laird, there’s someone here to see ye!”
The voice that interrupted him came from a small servant boy, who had appeared from the darkness of the dungeon behind him without warning.
“What’s that? Cannae ye see I’m busy?” Colby blustered, his smooth manner long since forgotten in his anger at the interruption.
“Beg pardon, sir, it’s just, she says it’s urgent. She must see ye right away; she cannae wait.”
“She?” Colby turned around to glare at the boy, his face puzzled. “It’s a woman?”
“Aye sir, a young one. She asked to see ye right away. Said she wouldnae leave until she’d spoken wi’ ye.”
Colby thought for a second, then looked back at Meredith, his eyes cold as he slid the keys back into his pocket, moving deliberately slowly as if to taunt her.
“It appears ye have a reprieve,” he said curtly as he turned to follow the boy from the dungeon. “For now. But fear not, fair lady, I’ll be back to deal with ye later. And I’ll be looking forward to it, too.”
Meredith stood by the cell door, watching until the light from his candle faded into the darkness at the end of the long corridor, and she was absolutely sure he’d gone. Then, finally, she allowed her shaking legs to fold underneath her as she collapsed gratefully to the floor.
* * *
In the courtyard of Moore Castle, Melissa’s legs were also shaking as she stood waiting for the young servant boy to go and fetch the Laird.
There had been no question of her refusing Ryder’s request, none at all. Meredith would have done the same for her, she knew. They were family — it was what they did. All the same, as she shivered underneath her thick cloak, not sure whether the sudden chill came from the night air or from her own barely suppressed terror, she couldn’t help but wonder what she’d gotten herself into.
On the ride here, she’d told herself to be brave, like Meredith was. It had been frustrating to sit around doing nothing for the past few hours, after all, and finally being on horseback, doing something — anything — to try to help her sister was at least better than that. Then again, she was not Meredith. A fact she was only too aware of when they arrived outside the walls of the castle, and Ryder turned in his saddle, his face white from the effort of remaining there despite his wounds, to ask if she was ready to go inside.
“Aye,” she’d said stoutly, hoping her nerves did not betray themselves. “Aye, I’m ready.”
Ryder had nodded reassuringly as she’d slipped from her horse, handing the reins to one of the other men, who stepped forward to take them. It had been easy to feel brave when Ryder was right there beside her, but now she was all alone, Ryder and his men hidden on the other side of the castle walls, while she stood here, a small, solitary figure in the middle of the unfamiliar courtyard, feeling her heart flutter inside her chest, like a bird beating its wings.
“Can I help ye?”
The Laird of Moore had snuck up on her so softly that Melissa hadn’t even heard him approach until he was right there beside her, close enough to touch. She felt the anger rise inside her at the sight of the man who had taken her sister, but she simply smiled sweetly, hoping the light from the torches placed at intervals around the courtyard would be enough for him to see her — and to realize she was just a girl, who could not possibly be a threat to him.
“Ye just need to distract him for long enough for him to lower his guard,” Ryder had told her. “Just talk to him. That should be easy enough for ye. In fact, wi’ a bit of luck he’ll be so desperate for ye to stop that he’ll do whatever ye say.”
Melissa had stuck her tongue out in response, grateful that the moment of teasing had revealed something of the old Ryder again. He must be feeling better to be teasing me for my talking, she’d thought, smiling to herself. Let’s just hope I can live up to his expectations.
“Aye, Me Laird,” she said now, still smiling coquettishly up at him. “I think ye can. I’m Melissa Quinn, Ryder’s sister-in-law.”
Colby frowned at this, instantly suspicious, as she’d known he would be. Glancing down, she saw his hand reach for the sword he carried by side and she spoke up quickly before he could draw it.
“It’s alright,” she said, hoping she sounded sincere. “I’m not here to cause trouble for ye, I promise.”
“Why are ye here, then? Speak up, girl, I daenae have all night.”
The suspicion had not left Colby’s face, but the hand that rested on the hilt of his sword made no further move; she was glad to see.
“I’m hoping for yer help,” Melissa blurted out, seeing that he was growing impatient. “And yer protection. From Ryder, I mean. Please, Me Laird, ye will help me, will ye not? I daenae ken where else to go!”
“Ye need protection from Ryder? Why?”