Page 84 of Deception of a Highlander

Kieran hardened against her tortured look lest it pierce the stoicism necessary to handle the situation.

Manipulation would not work on him. Not again. He had been fool enough to fall prey the first time. He was not so much a fool that he would fall for it again.

He wanted to slam his fist into the wall until the mortar sprinkled from the cracks like powder. He wanted to rage at her and make her understand his hatred for her lies. But he was a warrior, and emotion never won wars.

“They dinna know,” he murmured, reminding himself of the most important thing. As of now, Blair and Dougal were still safe.

God, he hoped she had been right about not lying to him. If this were a lie…

His stomach churned with disgust. “How could ye agree to something like this?”

“In exchange for my cooperation, I would have Jack’s freedom and mine as well. Were I to decline, they would…” She sucked in another pained breath. “They would kill him.”

Kieran’s brow furrowed. “Yer freedom? I dinna understand.”

* * *

Mariel studied Kieran carefully, waiting for a reaction of some kind. He had listened without speaking while she recounted how she had been left as Jack’s sole caregiver and how she’d been tricked into working for Aaron. Kieran crossed his arms over his chest, his face expressionless.

Her throat ached from speaking for so long, but she could take his silence no longer. “I’m not proud of what I’ve done,” she said. “Were it not for Jack, I would have let myself slip into the gutter and never emerged. But Aaron would not release Jack unless I paid back the coin we had cost him. Little did I know the training Aaron gave me, the clothes, the tutors—all of that added to the amount I owed. When I realized that, I wanted to give up, but I couldn’t. Not when I had to be strong for Jack. If I were gone, he would have no one. He’s too young to survive on his own, too weak.”

Kieran still showed no reaction. Instead, he motioned toward her. “What happened to yer back?”

Such a simple question to ask. If he only knew the pain that question would dredge up, he would never have asked. She regarded his cold stare. Or perhaps he would have.

Her knees turned soft, and her weight became too much to bear. Perhaps the chair was a good idea after all. She sank onto the smooth wooden seat. “Please don’t ask me to relive that.”

“Ye said scars were secrets, and those on yer back are exceptional. There are no secrets between us now, aye?” His voice was almost soothing, as though he were trying to coax a response from her.

The musty cell suddenly felt colder, and its damp chill pressed into her. Mariel pulled her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Though she felt the heavy weight of Kieran’s stare upon her, she could not look at him.

A chip in the rough stone wall drew her attention, and she fixed on that as she heard her voice echo in the tiny room. “Toward the end of my training, Aaron wanted me to learn how to kill a man.” She hesitated, anticipating the rush of memories with dread.

Kieran’s voice sounded far away as he spoke. “Go on.”

The foul odor of tallow candles choked her. There were no candles like that in the castle, and yet she could smell them, feel them as the smoke burned down her throat. Mariel closed her eyes, and the room around her melted away. Her heart raced. God help her, she did not want to go back…

She sat in the semidarkness, trying to breathe in the heavy air. A candle sat on a small table in the center of the chamber.

“They put me in a room with no windows. There was a man tied to a chair in the corner. He was frightened. I could see it in his eyes. I didn’t know what they wanted me to do, but I think somehow he did.”

Clear blue eyes darted anxiously toward her. The door creaked open, and a puddle spread beneath the chair as he urinated on himself.

“Another man entered the room. He was large, and he smelled…horrible.”

Sweat and death emanated from his swollen flesh, his chest wheezing with labored breath.

“He pressed a blade into my hand and ordered me to kill the man in the chair. I refused. He pulled a whip from his belt and ordered again for me to kill.”

The coil of braided leather swirled to the floor with a sharp slap. A slow, menacing smile spread over the large man’s face, revealing several missing teeth.

“I understood the threat, and yet again, I refused. That’s when he whipped me. He stopped after each lash and bade me kill the man. Each time I refused until I could withstand it no more.”

Her dress hung in bloody shreds at her side, and she swayed with exhaustion.

“No,” she whispered and braced herself for the wrath of the whip. It fell against her and stripped away flesh that was no longer intact. She staggered against the pain, her knees buckling beneath her. The room rocked, turned hazy, and she slumped to the floor. She refused to accept her defeat and tried to raise herself. Her arms trembled with the futile effort.

“My body wanted to die, but I clung to the pain. To feel meant I lived. No one would help Jack if I were dead. I heard the scrape of a chair, and the frightened man was thrown next to me. His head was yanked backward, and his throat slit. I couldn’t close my eyes. If I did, I knew I might never open them again. I saw…everything.”