Page 40 of A Temptress in Tartan

“How did you get in here?”

Her brow furrowed. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.” He shifted in her lap and pain fired through him. He gasped at the force of it even as he willed himself to relax.

“I bribed the guard.” She reached down but refrained from stroking his cheek. “How do you feel?”

“Bruised. Pained.” He lifted his head for a moment before settling it in her lap once more. “Weak.” He frowned. “Have you been here all night?”

She nodded. “Lachlan—”

“This was not your fault,” he interrupted.

“That is kind of you to say.”

“It’s the truth,” he said as he struggled to a sitting position.

“What are you doing? Your wounds—”

“Hurt like hell,” he said between clenched teeth.

“You were tortured to within an inch of your life less than six hours ago, and now you’re behaving as if nothing happened! I thought you were dead when they brought you in here last night. There was so much blood . . .”

The sadness in her eyes made his throat tighten. “It takes more than that to kill a Douglas.” He reached down and gently stroked a lock of hair away from her temple. “I’ll never confess to the charges before me, no matter what they do. But I do need to think . . . to devise a plan . . .”

“I’ve been trying to think of a way out of this all night and I can think of nothing.” Her words were barely above a whisper.

“Then I’ll fight.”

The sadness vanished and fire lit her eyes once more. “Fight what? Superstition? The king? Those are battles you cannot win.” She stood and glared at him. “At least not alone.”

“Nay.” His frown deepened. “You aren’t going to help me with anything.”

His thoughts moved back to the two women who’d been with him in the chamber of tortures. The younger of the two was around Elizabeth’s age. “No one is safe from an accusation of witchcraft. You need to leave here, now, while you still can. I can endure whatever they do to me as long as I know you are safe.”

Elizabeth planted her hands on her hips. “You saved my life not so many days ago,” she said with an intensity that caused her voice to tremble. “It is my turn to save yours.”

God’s teeth, she was stubborn, Lachlan thought, trying to smother a spark of admiration tempering his feeling of annoyance. “Is this about our slates being wiped clean? A life for a life? Or is there more?”

Something flickered in her eyes a heartbeat before it vanished. “It’s about saving your life. Once we get past that, we can look to other things.”

Lachlan frowned, then flinched from the pain. He hadn’t known her long enough to know every little expression that crossed her face, but if he had to guess he would say that brief flicker had been fear. Perhaps she was trying to save him to soothe her own soul, but deep inside she still believed he was all the things they said about him. The thought sent a chill down his spine. “Elizabeth—”

“Wait!” she said, her face suddenly alight in the semi-darkness. “It is not the tribunal we need to convince of your innocence. It is King James.” She paced the confines of the small cell. “Would you say King James is a learned man? A logical man?”

Lachlan’s frown deepened. “Aye. He is.”

“Then we need to appeal to the logical side of him. Make him see through the preposterous charges my father and others have brought up against you.”

“And how do you suppose we do that?” Lachlan asked.

“With counter evidence.” She smiled. “I will dispel every charge, one by one by finding those who have given evidence against you and reversing their claims. Starting with myself.”

“You did not testify against me.”

“Not yet, but that moment will come and soon. Mark my words.”

He stood and shuttered as pain rippled through him. “I don’t understand.”