BRUSH WITH DANGER
Glenna?”
“Mm?” Glenna looked up from where she sat sewing in the seamstress' rooms. She was still lost in a haze of delight, thinking about the beautiful evening with Conn. She recalled every moment with him, from the sweetness of the dancing and the joy of his kiss to the sweet, soft tenderness of his words to her. She blinked, letting the thoughts drift away as she focused on the person who had just come through the door. “What is it?”
She found herself facing a frightened-looking woman about four years her junior. Ainsley, she recalled distantly - one of the ladies' maids who worked in the same hallway as she did. She frowned.
“Sorry for disturbing your work, like,” Ainsley said quickly, also peculiarly nervously. “But I'm to deliver a message.”
“Yes?” Glenna frowned.
“You're to go down to the courtyard. At once. You're needed there.”
“I am?” That was odd. Lady Amabel hadn't come back from riding yet. Who could need her? “Who needed me, Ainsley?”
“I...best if you come down – hard to explain.”
Glenna stood, feeling her heart thumping in her chest. What was this all about? “Why?” she asked. “Why is it so hard to explain?”
Ainsley just grimaced. “Best if I don't, Glenna.”
They went down the stairs together. In the hallway, Glenna paused. She put her hand on her heart, feeling an uneasy thudding there deep in her chest. “I'll go alone, Ainsley,” she said softly.
“Thanks, Glenna.” Ainsley curtsied uneasily and hurried off without a backward glance.
Glenna crossed the hallway had exited. The courtyard was cooling off under an afternoon sun. She frowned, feeling a little dazzled by the daylight. “Hello?” she called. Who was waiting here, and why was it so urgent?
No answer. She went over to the gate near the stable, feeling foolish. Who had summoned her here?
“Hello?”
That was when someone stepped out from behind the stable and covered her mouth with their hand. She screamed in alarm. No sound came out. Then she kicked backward. Whoever it was swore and she had a flash of realization as she heard the grating voice.
Alexander.
Then something hit her hard on the head and the last thing she saw was white stars, flaring into darkness.
The light came back, albeit slowly. In addition, with it came pain. Glenna groaned and tried to open her eyes. It felt as if a heavy weight pressed on her eyelids. She blinked, groaning. Where am I?
She stretched her hands forward. Her fingers worked, and she opened her eyes, trying hard to focus. Pain lanced through into her brain and she groaned again.
“Ah. You're awake, aye?”
The voice was the grating, cruel voice of her nightmares. Glenna shivered and rolled into a ball. She felt despair clutch her heart. What can I do?
She was here in Alexander's clutches. She lay there, trying to think of a plan. She was cold, hungry, and tired. What could she do?
She tried to sit up. Her head pounded and she felt the urge to vomit. She doubled over, stomach cramping painfully.
“You don't like me much, eh?” the voice chuckled. Glenna shook her head.
She heard the man stand then – the sound of a chair being drawn back across the floor. Then boots, heavy, crossing a flagstone floor. She felt a hand descend on her and draw back her head. She groaned and closed her eyes. The fingers dug into her scalp and she shivered, pain and fear flowing through her body like tendrils of ice.
“You'll start liking me soon enough,” he said with a smile.
This close, she could see the stained teeth, the hard gray eyes. She closed her eyes, wanting to cry. He would not see her tears. “No,” she whispered. “I will never like you.”
He chuckled. The blow, when it came, stung the side of her head. She gasped and rolled in on herself instinctively, hiding from the pain.
“Please,” she whispered. “Why am I here? Where am I?”
“You're in a barn,” he said reluctantly. “Somewhere near Edinburgh. As to why? Well, simply because you're his. One way to fix his poxy ways.”
What? That made no sense. “He doesn't like me,” she said in a small voice.
“You try telling me that,” he chuckled harshly. “Ye think I'll believe it? No. I know a fellow pinin' for a lass. Seen it often. And he's pinin' sore.”
Glenna shook her head. “Must be...some other lass.” She felt a tear trickle, unbidden, down her cheek.
“Try that one too,” Alexander said. “I'll no' believe it either.” He grabbed her shoulder and jerked it back, painfully twisting her around to face him. “Ye can hauld yer whist on yer lies.”
“I'm not...lying,” Glenna whispered hoarsely. Her heart was racing with panic and she felt the need to run from here, if only her body would carry her. She was paralyzed with fear though, unable to move even should she wish it.
“Ha,” he said. He was standing a few inches from her and Glenna felt herself flinch away as he made a fist again. She could feel the trembling of the muscles in his arm, mere inches from her face – she knew he was holding in his rage.
“What will you do?” she whispered.
He laughed, grimly. “No idea yet,” he said. “I know what I want to do,” he added.
She heard the lust in his voice and trembled as he reached down and stroked her hair. She curled up tighter, wanting to be as small as possible. If she could just disappear, she'd be safe. “Please,” she whispered.
He laughed. “I have no pity,” he said.
She realized with some horror that was nothing besides the truth. “If I don't do as I will with you, it is through no fault of my own.”
The man is mad – he must be. Glenna shuddered. What did one do with someone who had lost their grip on their sanity? The best thing – the only thing – she could think of was to threaten them with some consequence for their action. “You will be punished if I am harmed,” she said.
The blow almost stunned her. She felt blood trickle down her chin from her nose and sobbed in shock. She covered her face with her hand, feeling the warm viscous fluid of blood on her fingers.
“You think to threaten. You'd threaten me?” He laughed again. “I fear no one.”
“You fear yourself,” Glenna whispered. The realization had hit her suddenly as she lay there. “You fear you're a coward.”
She heard the hiss of indrawn breath. The next blow knocked her unconscious.
* * *
When she woke again, it was to darkness. Glenna opened her eyes, the drowsiness of concussion filling her head like down-feathers filled a pillow. She tried to sit up. Her mouth was dry. She coughed.
“Water,” she murmured.
She breathed in through her nose as best as possible. She could smell the scent of logs burning. Someone had made a fire. She noticed the light flickering through the slit of her eyelids. A shadow fell across her as he moved.
“In the bucket over there,” he said. “You'll have to stand to get it – I'll no serve it to ye.”
Glenna sighed. She felt too scared to move. However, what could she do? Her thirst was going to choke her if she did not slake it soon. She stood and stumbled forward, heading toward the fire. She found the bucket and made a cup of her hands, scooping the frosty-cold liquid into her mouth. It trickled down her throat, making her tongue – which ached of dryness – suddenly moistened again. She swallowed and gasped.
She heard him shift by the fire, lying on fresh kindling. The flames flared higher and she turned toward it, stumbling back to her place. That was when she fell.
Crying out with desperate fear, she tried to scramble up, but terror and hunger had left her impossibly weak. She got to her knees and stayed there. She felt a hand stroke her hair. She closed her eyes.
He pushed her down on the floor and his hand traced her face, stroking down toward her breasts. When he slid his thumb into the collar of her dress, she froze.
“Please,” she said.
He laughed. The hand worked lower, then back. He tore open the buttons down the back of her dress and she felt a tear run down her face as he stripped her.
That was when she heard what she had never thought she would. The sound of hoof-beats. Heading up the path…toward them.