The men grabbed Colin roughly by the arms and drug him to his feet. Pain shot through his back and legs and he subdued a cry of rage and agony, refusing to give the English brutes the privilege of knowing his state of torture. They drug him across the rough floor, jagged edges of stone biting at him, tossing him to the floor of his darkened cell. He grunted as his knees hit the hard, bloodstained, and mucky floor. He could feel them grabbing his right arm, stretching it out and putting his hand palm down upon the bloodstained block. Colin struggled, watching as the flickering light from the doorway caught the rock that was lifted high above his head. He tried to pull back, but two men held him and the stone came down with a vengeance...
Colin bolted upright in a state of absolute terror. He was covered in a cold sweat. The hunting dog near his bed jumped as Colin suddenly sat up and gave a surprised bark. Once he gained his bearings, he breathed a sigh of relief before melting back against his bed. He was home, safe in his own bed.
There was a slight ruckus outside Colin's room as a couple more hunting dogs were let in and his eldest sister, who was still at home, followed after them. "Colin, are you alright? I heard ..." She stopped mid sentence, looking at the curtained bed. Her brother had gotten up obviously; the curtains were pulled aside. She jumped with a shriek when he stepped out of the shadows after lighting a lamp with the leftover embers of the fire. It was just past midnight.
"Those dogs of yours are going to wake the whole house, Lydia," she heard his soft and somewhat far way reply. "But yes ... I'm fine."
"A bad dream again, brother?" Colin's eyes met his sister's and then he just looked away. Lydia sighed and approached her brother and before he could pull away, she grasped his shoulder.
He reached up to shadow her hand with his own. There was hardly any strength in his grasp. The hand was cruelly mangled. He felt her kiss his hand softly and he closed his eyes. Lydia and he had always been close. It had torn his sister apart when he had been taken captive by the English. They all h ad thought he was dead. It had affected Lydia the most.
Again he squeezes her hand tenderly. "I'm alright Lydia."
He smiled a bit as Lydia leaned over to kiss his cheek. By all that was holy, it would be hard to watch Lydia married off. He had always relied on his sister's presence for comfort and company.
Colin closed his eyes, squeezing her hand again. "Why don't you go back to bed, Lydia?" he murmured softly. "I'll be alright."
Lydia shook her head and then hugged her brother tightly. "I'll sit on your bed with you until you're asleep again. THEN I'll go back to bed."
Colin looked at her out the corner of his eyes. "I don't need coddling, woman."
She just grinned and kissed his cheek again. "Too bad ... that's what big sisters are for."
Once she thought she had Colin settled in and asleep again, Lydia got up to leave but suddenly Colin's hand grasped her wrist and she drew up short to look at him. He had feigned sleep well; either that or he had been asleep but had roused at her slightest movement. Probably something he'd learned or been trained into during his time in the Tower.
She sat again, patting his hand comfortingly. "I'm here, Colin." Curling up next to him upon the bed, she gazed into his eyes with a smile. "I won't go anywhere. You just sleep."
Lydia had been like a mother figure to Colin as they had grown up. There was a lot more than just a deep, unbreakable friendship between them. She reached for him to gently caress the swollen bruise around his eyes from the fight a few days ago. He'd sure earned his war wounds from that day.
"Lydia? Do you know anything of the McKay family?" Her fingers stilled as she heard her brother's question and she drew back a bit, her eyebrows furrowing gently.
"Other than the name?" she softly asked. "Not too much, really. Father mentioned something today about hearing the daughter ... Juliana or something like that has been betrothed to Robbie Kincaid." She tilted her head a bit as she looked at her beloved brother. "Why the sudden curiosity?"
Colin sat straight upright at the news he hadn't heard. "Betrothed?! Why?!" Then he caught himself as his words gave too much away. "I mean ... when?"
Lydia blinked a bit at her brother's reaction. He never seemed too interested in the politics of their world. "Just today ... I think. I'm not really sure, to be honest." She eyed her brother warily as he got up out of bed to pace his room. It was never a good sign when Colin retreated to silence. "Brother ..."
Colin waved her off irritatingly, pacing back and forth in front of the fire. After it became apparent that he'd prefer to be alone, she rose and called to the dogs that had piled near the foot of the bed. Opening the door, she let them out quietly and closed the door behind her.
Colin let her go. He was grateful his sister could read him well enough that he didn't have to say a word in order for to understand what he needed.
After a bit more pacing, he collapsed into a big chair set in front of the fire, looking into the hypnotizing flames. His left hand floated down to caress the top of his beloved lyre. Colin had loved to play the delicate instrument, priding himself in his ability. Now it was just a constant reminder of the damage the English had inflicted on him; the broken, crooked fingers of the hand they'd destroyed could no longer pluck the melodic notes from the strings.
He sighed heavily; Juliana McKay had, in fact, been betrothed to the beast Colin had fought a few days ago at the fairs. Reaching up to caress his bruised jaw, his eyes darkened at the thought of the Kincaid heir so much as touching the beautiful Juliana.
With a sigh he got up. It was obvious there would be no more sleep for him tonight. He needed fresh air. Pulling on a tunic over his nightshirt and, out of habit, reaching for his gauntlets, he left his room.
Soon enough he was mounted one of his favorite steeds, guiding the animal with gentle words to take him for a ride along the coast. The sun was several hours away and he had no desire to be cooped up inside with thoughts of Juliana and Robbie in his head.
***********************************************
Juliana sat wide awake upon the pillowed seat of her open window, the sheer coverings billowing out into the open air and then blowing gently back in as the breeze from the ocean out of her view, but not too far away, blew in across the rolling hills of her beloved Highlands. Her legs were drawn up tight against her beneath the dressing gown that shimmered in dancing candlelight that sat nearby. It was late ... past midnight she would guess, but she couldn't sleep. She hadn't been able to sleep in a couple of days ... ever since her encounter with the young man from the Mackenzie clan.
Instead of sweet sleep, whenever she closed her eyes, she kept reliving the brief moments that she had been able to look into his eyes. What she wouldn't give to be able to look into them once more. Laying her cheek to the tops of her knees, she closed her eyes tightly as a lone tear squeezed through and slipped down her cheek.
Her father had made it official just this day ... she was, indeed, to marry the eldest heir of the Kincaid clan in exchange for security of their lands and their family fortune. Juliana was sick at the thought but knew that these things were done all the time ... it had merely been a matter of time.
She heard a slight knock at her door before the door was pushed gently open. She didn't have to look up to know who it was ... she could smell the sweet, faint scent of her mother without having to even lift her head. Her moss-green eyes opened to gaze back over the rolling hills bathed in moonlight, not even lifting her head as she heard her mother approach. Only the tremble of her chin reacted when she felt her mother's fingers gently toy with her flame-hued hair.
"It's late Juliana but yet a candle still burns in your window," she heard her say softly, even though she knew her mother did not expect an answer. "I know you are distraught but you know the customs of the clan and the duty that sometimes falls on a woman within."
Juliana merely tightened her arms around her bent legs as her soft voice lifted, almost without any kind of emotion, "I know my duties, Mother." Juliana felt her mother sink down onto the pillows before her and only then did she turn her head so that her chin now rest on the tops of her knees, unshed tears shining in the depths of her green gaze.
"Robbie is not without his faults," her mother began, "but neither is he the devil incarnate. He is handsome and well-to-do and ..."
Juliana interrupted softly as a tear rolled down her cheek, "And I don't like him, much less love him."