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.
