Highland Velvet (Montgomery/Taggert 3)

Brian, upset and unable to sleep, threw on a robe and made his way outside. “What is it?” he asked a stableboy who was running past him.

“A woman threw herself from a top-floor window,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ve got to find Lord Roger.”

Brian’s heart stopped at the boy’s words. It had to be one of the women who was held captive. Please let it be the woman he didn’t know, Bronwyn, he prayed. But even as he thought the words, he knew who lay dead.

He walked calmly toward the side of the house that contained the window to Mary’s room. He pushed through the crowd of servants peering down at the body.

“She’s been raped,” a woman said quietly. “Look at the blood on her!”

“It’s just like when Lord Edmund was alive. And here I thought the younger one was going to be better.”

“Get out of here!” Brian shouted. It made him sick that they felt free to look at his beloved Mary. “Did you hear me? Get out of here!”

The servants weren’t used to taking orders from Brian, but they recognized the tone of authority when they heard it. They turned quickly and left to hide in the dark corners and stare at Brian and this woman they’d never seen before.

Brian gently smoothed Mary’s clothes. He straightened her neck from its unnatural angle. He wanted to carry her into the house and even made a few attempts, but he wasn’t strong enough. Even his weakness seemed to feed the anger rising in him. The servants assumed Roger had raped her, but Brian didn’t believe them. One of the guards! he thought.

As he stood he began to imagine tortures for the man, as if it would help bring his Mary back.

As if in a trance, he walked up the stairs to Mary’s room. The guards started to hinder him, but they stepped back when they saw Brian’s face. He pushed open the door to Mary’s room.

He stared for some moments at Roger’s form, dead asleep, snoring, as he lay in Mary’s bed. He didn’t seem to have any thoughts, only a feeling that ran through him. He seemed to grow and strengthen with each passing moment.

With great calmness he turned and took a pitcher of cold water from a table. He poured it over Roger’s head.

Roger groaned and looked up. “Brian,” he said groggily with a faint smile. “I was dreaming of you.”

“Get up!” Brian said in a deadly voice.

Roger became alert. He was war-trained and knew how to control his senses when he felt there was danger. “What has happened? Is Elizabeth—” He broke off as he sat up and realized where he was. “Where is the Montgomery woman?”

Brian’s face didn’t change from its look of steel. “She lies dead on the stones below.”

A flicker went across Roger’s face. “I wanted to prove what kind of woman she was. I wanted to show you—”

Brian’s low voice cut him off. “Where is Stephen Montgomery’s wife?”

“Brian, you must listen to me,” Roger pleaded.

“Listen!” Brian gasped. “Did you listen to Mary’s screams? I know she was a timid woman and I’ll wager she screamed a lot. Did you enjoy it?”

“Brian…”

“Cease! You have said your last words to me. I am going to find this other woman you hold, and we are leaving here.” His eyes narrowed. “If I ever see you again, I will kill you!”

Roger fell backward as if he’d been struck. He watched numbly as Brian left the room. He looked at the blood on the sheet beside him and thought of the woman lying dead below. What had he done?

It didn’t take Brian long to find Bronwyn. He knew she’d be in the room where Edmund once kept his women. Again the guards outside the door didn’t challenge him. The undercurrent of the night’s tragedy was being felt even through the walls.

Bronwyn was awake and standing ready when Brian entered her room. “What has happened?” she asked quietly of the hard-looking young man before her.

“I am Brian Chatworth,” he said, “and I am taking you to your family. Are you ready?”

“My sister-in-law is also being held prisoner. I won’t go without her.”

Brian clenched his jaw. “My brother has raped your sister, and she has killed herself.”

He said the words flatly, as if they meant nothing to him, but Bronwyn sensed something deeper. Mary, she thought, sweet, dear, gentle Mary! “We cannot leave her here. I must take her back to her brothers.”