Home > Never Seduce a Scot (The Montgomerys and Armstrongs #1)(85)

Never Seduce a Scot (The Montgomerys and Armstrongs #1)(85)
Author: Maya Banks

Deciding to give her a little more time before he started demanding to know her whereabouts, he set about washing himself with cloths and water from the basin. He even used a bit of Eveline’s soap, deciding it certainly couldn’t hurt to alleviate the stench of sweat and blood and illness.

Feeling refreshed after cleaning himself, he put on clean clothing and decided he’d go after his wife himself. All the better if he just happened to find her soaking naked in a tub of water.

Though he certainly wasn’t up to loving and neither was his wee bruised wife, he certainly wasn’t above enjoying the view.

With a grin, he started down the stairs, purposely putting the matter of the message he’d sent to Armstrong out of his mind. It did no good to dwell on it for now. Armstrong would either send a message back or he wouldn’t. All Graeme could do was wait to see if Tavis Armstrong would be truthful or deceitful.

The hall was curiously devoid of people at a time when the evening meal should most certainly be served. He frowned when he realized that food was set out on the table and in some cases, even looked to be half eaten. It was as if the hall had emptied all of a sudden, right in the midst of the meal.

“Bowen! Teague!”

Receiving no answer, Graeme turned in the direction of the back entrance, his desire to ensure that Eveline was all right suddenly overwhelming him. He hurried out and broke into a run toward the bathhouse. He nearly ran into Teague as Teague came barreling out.

Graeme caught him by the shoulders, ignoring the pain in his shoulder at the sudden, forceful movement.

“What is amiss?” he demanded. “Where is Eveline?”

“I do not know,” Teague said grimly. “We’re searching for her now.”

“What?” Graeme roared. “Why has no one summoned me? Why has no one told me of this?”

“We only just discovered that she was missing,” Teague said. “I was on my way to summon you. Bowen and the others have spread out over the keep and the area surrounding the keep and are searching for her now.”

“Tell me everything,” Graeme ground out. “When was she last seen? Who saw her? And how long has she been missing?”

“She went into the kitchen and spoke with Mary a few moments. Mary gave her bread and cheese, and then Eveline left the kitchen. No one saw her after that. Rorie is searching the upstairs now. The women are looking close to the keep and the soldiers are searching the entire outer perimeter. We’ve sent word to the men patrolling the borders, asking if they’ve seen anything. We’ll find her, Graeme. She can’t have gone far.”

“People don’t just disappear,” Graeme snarled. “I want to speak to every single member of this clan. Someone had to have seen her. Moreover, someone has to know what has happened to her.”

Eveline came to gasping awareness in a nightmare she couldn’t sort out. She was bouncing painfully up and down and the ground was weaving in and out of her line of vision.

It took several moments before she realized she was facedown over a horse, or at least the person she was draped across was astride a horse and she was flung over his lap like a sack of barley.

Nausea assailed her and she had to swallow back the bile working its way from her stomach and into her throat. The constant jostling was causing the reaction and there was little she could do about it.

Blessed darkness reclaimed her.

When she awakened a second time, she was in complete darkness. She had no understanding of how much time had passed or where she was. There was an overwhelming smell of dankness, of moldy, musty dampness. She could smell earth and dirt, but she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face.

As she tried to raise her arm, she made the horrifying discovery that her hands were manacled to a damp, stone wall. Panicked, she tried to sit up only to find that like her wrists, her ankles were encased by thick, metal shackles.

Sweet Jesu, she was in a dungeon.

What could anyone want with her in a dungeon?

She thought hard on the events leading up to her capture. It was all a blur. She’d spoken to Mary and then stepped outside to eat her bread and cheese and enjoy a breath of fresh air. And then Kierstan …

Realization was sick and overwhelming. Kierstan had led her around the keep to the bathhouse. Kierstan was with her when the intruder had struck Eveline’s jaw. Kierstan, who hadn’t made a move to aid Eveline or to call for help.

Eveline drew up her arms as far as the chains would allow and tried to warm her cold fingertips. Then she yelled with all her might. She screamed as loudly as her throat would allow and she continued screaming until she was no longer certain she even had a voice.

In the distance she saw a flash of light. She leaned up, uncertain as to whether she imagined it. But nay, it was coming closer, and as it did, she could make out the silhouette of a man carrying the torch.

Her pulse thudded painfully against her chest and temples, making her head ache viciously from the two blows she’d taken earlier.

She drew her legs protectively against her body, determined to do whatever necessary to ensure she didn’t incur further injury.

And then the torch was thrust forward, nearly blinding her. She flinched away from the sudden light, shielding her eyes with one hand.

The man yanked her hand down, twisting cruelly until she cried out in pain. Then he wrapped his hand in her hair, hauling upward so her face was forced closer to his. It was then she saw his features and knew who her captor was.

Fear rendered her immobile. Ian McHugh was a man she thought capable of all manner of evil. Over time his power had grown enormously in her mind until she imagined him some demon from hell.

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