It was perhaps the most difficult thing Brice had ever been tasked with doing.

Saying goodbye to her, seeing the tears still damp on her cheeks, the red eyes and downturned mouth. Knowing her misery and being unable to end it.

Did she not know he wanted nothing more than to free her? Even if she did not wish to be his, at least she would not live an unhappy life as the silent wife of another man.

A man unworthy of her, it was clear.

“Halt.”

He froze in place, halfway down the stairs. The door was so close. He’d nearly made it out undetected.

Footsteps rang out behind him, coming down the stairs. He recognized the lad who’d escorted them through the woods, and his smile was one of relief.

“I was just about to leave,” he said, hoping the entire event would be overlooked.

After all, it seemed the occupants of the castle had heartily enjoyed themselves at the feast. Perhaps he might make the best of the high spirits from earlier in the night.

The lad did not smile in return—in fact, his right hand lingered just over the hilt of his sword. “Earl Remington will wish to see you,” he said, nodding to the men who stood behind Brice.

“I meant no harm,” Brice insisted, but it seemed to matter not. They led him the rest of the way down the stairs and through the keep, turning down a narrow corridor.

It was an impressive place, to be certain, and he looked around in wonder at the room in which they came to a stop. At a table sat a man with black hair touched with gray, wearing a fur-lined cape fixed about his neck by a jeweled pin.

He looked up at his visitors, eyes widening slightly at the sight of an unwelcome Highlander.

“What is this?” he asked, sneering as though he’d found a rodent in his stew.

Brice instantly disliked him intensely.

“Sir, we found this man on the stairs.”

“Inside the keep?” Remington—for it could only be Remington—stood, hands on the table. “You cannot be serious.”

“It is true,” Brice spoke up. “I found your bride wandering about in the courtyard and escorted her to her chambers. Nothing more.”

The earl’s eyes narrowed until they were nearly closed. “Leave us,” he decided, waving a hand without looking at his men.

“You are certain, sire?” His men did not sound as certain. Not at all. Perhaps their master had never been in the presence of a true man, one who would gladly snap their necks like twigs if the situation called for it.

“Since when are you in the habit of questioning me?” Remington’s tone was cold, promising woeful danger to any who refused to obey him.

The men scurried out, closing the door behind them.

Leaving Brice alone with him.

“Would you care for a drink?” Remington asked, reaching for a jug.

“Thank ye, but no.”

“You do not appreciate good wine?”

“I am not thirsty.”

Remington made a small noise, as though he were amused. “I see. Now. Tell me plainly. What was my bride really doing outside at this time of night? She told me she was retiring to her bedchamber. As the celebration was all but finished, I gave her leave. Why was she out of doors rather than in her bed?”

Brice took great pains to keep as neutral an expression as possible. “I’m afraid I cannot say. We did not discuss it.”

Remington’s eyes never left his as he lifted a chalice to his lips. “She was not attempting to run away, then?”

“She was on foot. I doubt a lass could find her way to the woods, then through them, on foot,” Brice replied, finding it a reasonable argument. It almost made good sense, too, though Alana had not been thinking sensibly at the time.

“Right you are, naturally, but you are a man who has seen his share of difficult terrain, I’m certain. You would know better than to attempt such a foolish act.” Remington sat once again, calmer than he’d been before. “If a woman were desperate enough, she might be moved to take any number of drastic actions.”

Cold fingers of fear seemed to touch the back of Brice’s neck—though the fear was not for himself, but rather for her. The man seated across from where he stood was not one to be trifled with, it was plain to see. “True, but she was not acting in desperation. She was merely taking the air—I’m sure the feast and the celebration were a bit much for her to take in at once.”

“You make a good point,” the earl agreed, nodding slowly. “You seem to understand her motivations rather well, I notice.”

Brice merely shrugged. “I do not believe so, begging your pardon. It merely seems to make sense that she might need to breathe the night air prior to retiring. That is all.”

“And you just happened to hear her out there?”

“I was not sleeping.”

“Oh?” Remington raised an eyebrow, smiling. “Did you not find your sleeping arrangements comfortable?”

Brice was reminded of a cat playing with a mouse it knew it intended to kill. Drawing out the experience for its own amusement. That was what Remington was doing with him. Having a bit of fun, drawing out the uncertainty of what this meeting might bring.

“I was answering nature’s call,” he replied.

Remington laughed. “I see. Then, it’s fortunate you happened to answer the call at the right moment. Or else there is no telling what might have occurred.” His eyes took on a sharp look. His laughter was mirthless.

He did not trust Alana. He might not even have liked her.

This did not bode well.

“If ye do not mind, then, I would like to get what little sleep I still can,” Brice suggested, intent on telling the others of this meeting and the impression he got of the man.

“Do that, and be gone by the time my wedding ends.” Remington bent, retrieving a small sack from beneath the table, dropping it onto the surface. It landed heavily, the coins inside rattling prettily against each other. “I trust you will find this amount satisfactory. It compensates the four of you for your troubles—travel, accommodations, both to and from. If you and your companions know what is good for you, you will take it and be grateful to have it.”

It was as though he’d gone from being one person to being an entirely different man, just that quickly. Gone was the offer of hospitality—he was barely behaving in a civil manner.

“We were led to believe we might be allowed to stay for more than a single night,” Brice murmured, reaching for the sack.

“You were misled.” That was all the explanation he would receive, it seemed. “My men will be outside the door, waiting for you to emerge. They will lead you to the courtyard. You will rest as much as you like through the morning, but you will not be anywhere in or around the castle by the time I’m through with my wedding ceremony. And I will have my men search for you. You can be certain of it.”

He motioned to the door with a wave of his hand, dismissing his guest.

Brice retrieved the sack—it was heavy, speaking to the earl’s generosity—and made haste in leaving Remington’s presence. He did not wish to breathe the same air any longer.

Guilt plagued him as he followed the men out to the courtyard.

No wonder Alana had been willing to run away on foot.

He might have, if he were in her place.

Rodric stirred on Brice’s entrance, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he sat up. “Where were ye?” he asked before spying the canvas sack.

“Collecting payment.” He tossed the bag Rodric’s way before sitting down with his back to the stone wall.

“Before sunrise, or nearly? Why?” Rodric opened the bag, his eyes widening when he saw all that was inside.

“She was trying to escape again.”

“She was?” Rodric chuckled, shaking his head. “I must give her credit for trying. She does not know when to stop.”

“Aye, and I’m beginning to understand why.”

Rodric grunted a sleepy warning. “It’s none of our affair. We were not paid to convince the lass of Remington’s finer points.”

Brice snorted. “Nay, and we’d have been hard-pressed to find any if that had been the case.”

“He’s that sort of man, eh?” Brice nodded. Rodric sighed. “I’m sorry to hear it. She’s a nice lass.”

“He wants us out of the castle by the time the wedding ceremony is through. His men will search the place for us to be certain we’ve gone. I do not think he likes us overmuch.”

Rodric looked around at their sparse accommodations with a grin. “What gave you the first hint?”

Brice did not see the humor, dark though it was. He tapped the back of his head against the wall, anxious and irritated and seeing truly how useless he was to Alana. Would that he could knock himself senseless and allow sleep to overtake him

He would merely dream of her, like as not.

“There is nothing we can do to help her,” Rodric reminded him.

“As though I needed you to tell me this.”

“I thought it best to speak it aloud, just the same. I know how much you wish to help her. So do I. But we are not involved.”

“I know.” Brice stretched out on the straw, pulling a blanket up to his shoulders and closing his eyes. It would be easier to feign sleep than it would be to continue answering questions.

All the while, that sack full of silver weighed on his conscience. Was that all a lass’s life was worth?