Page 97 of Deception of a Highlander

Lord Hampton had shown up for the fight.

Mariel turned in his direction as he exited a hidden door in the wall. He was far more handsome than she had assumed he might be. Dark hair curled just over the tips of his ears, and his cheekbones were high beneath his regal brow. Sharp gray eyes glinted with hatred when they came to rest on Kieran. “So, we meet again, brother.”

Kieran tensed. “Ye killed Brennan.” He took a step closer to his adversary, his gaze intense. “Ye hurt Blair.”

Hampton held his ground, his back straight with noble pride. “She was miserable in our marriage because of your actions. If you had let me have the dowry I earned, none of this would have happened. With all your land and all your wealth, you refused to part with anything while I was forced to live on credit.” Hampton spit out the last word, and his aquiline nose wrinkled in disgust. “A credit, might I add, that has run out. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to owe the king taxes you cannot pay? I’d been given four months to pay what has been outstanding, and this street urchin consumed three of them with her lack of success.”

He fingered the sword at his side, obviously not realizing the way Kieran’s face darkened with rage. “Not that it matters. I’m pretty sure I can get her location out of you before I kill you. And once I reclaim my wife and her massive inheritance, the funds owed to the crown will be easily paid.”

Kieran loosed a roar and charged forward with his claymore drawn. Hampton pulled an elaborate sword from its scabbard and parried with remarkable skill. Kieran lunged at him again, his heavy blade swinging through the air with enough force to split a man in two. Hampton narrowly evaded the blow.

Hampton feigned to the left and jabbed his thin blade at Kieran’s shoulder. A small red stain appeared against the stark white linen, but Kieran did not appear to notice. His black gaze remained focused on his target as he gripped his sword with two hands and swung.

The clash of metal on metal rang sharply against the rich walls. Both men grunted with effort and charged into a violent dance that would leave only one standing. Kieran was the more aggressive of the two and forced Hampton backward with powerful thrusts of his sword. The Englishman’s heel bumped the wall behind him, and his confident smirk wavered. For every fatal blow that Hampton attempted, there came the ring of failure as Kieran blocked the weapon’s path.

“My men will be here soon,” Hampton growled.

“No’ soon enough.” Kieran plunged his blade into his opponent’s chest.

Hampton’s body jerked at the impact, and blood bubbled from the wound. Surprise filled his cold, gray eyes.

“It is finally done.” Kieran’s voice was gravelly with emotion. He turned toward her, his face grim. “Brennan is avenged, and my family is safe.” His gaze locked on her with an unreadable expression. “Ye are safe.”

Tears stung her eyes as the realization dawned on her. Over two years, she had been under Aaron’s control, forced to sacrifice a part of herself she would never reclaim. She was finally free. Jack was finally free.

“Jack,” she whispered.

Kieran’s hand touched her shoulder. “Aye, lass. Let’s go find yer brother.”

Mariel did not need further encouragement. She turned her back on the ugly past that lay in a broken pile of congealing blood and moved toward a future of promise and safety.

The complex twists and turns of the large home unraveled with simplicity as she followed the path that she had traced so many times before. Each hurried footstep brought her closer to Jack until she was running down the darkened hallway.

Faster and faster she ran until it loomed before her, the whitewashed plain wood door in a hallway of countless other doors. The room behind it was little more than a closet. She could see it perfectly in her mind’s eye. The narrow bed, the barren walls pockmarked with scars of disrepair. Her knees went soft, and her hand seemed to drag through time as she reached for the key beneath the doorknob with trembling fingers. What if Aaron had lied? What if she found the room empty?

Her fingertips gripped the cool, unyielding brass, and her heart stuttered with fear.

Kieran’s rough hand closed around hers, his warmth and strength lending her quiet support as she turned the key. The door swung open with a familiar protesting squeal and revealed the blackness of a room without windows.

Her pulse raced. Was he in there?

“Jack?” Her voice trembled.

Naught answered her desperate call but silence.

CHAPTER 38

Mariel stepped into the dark room.

“Jack?” Her voice strained with anxiety.

Kieran stepped beside her with a flickering candle in his hand. The flame illuminated the still form of a boy sitting on the bed with his dark head bent low.

He looked up with large sapphire-blue eyes.

“Jack.” Her throat tightened and left his name thick on her tongue. She wanted to run to him, to scoop him into her arms, and cradle him as she had when he was younger. Her feet refused to move, so all she could do was stare down at the little boy who had been her reason for living.

His mouth dropped open, and his eyes widened. “Mariel?”