Ransom

Alec interrupted her. "The man was drunk, terrible drunk."

"Alec, no one wants to hear the particulars-"

"Ah, but we do want to hear," Brodick drawled out, his mild voice belying what he was truly feeling. He tried to be patient, but his need to hear the full story from start to finish was driving him to distraction. What kind of a madman would prey on such a gentle lady and a little boy? Alec had already painted a dark picture of the horror he'd survived and had let them all see a glimmer of the courage Gillian had shown. Aye, he wanted all the details, and he decided that he would hear the full tale before nightfall.

"He was drunk, wasn't he, Gillian?" Alec pestered.

She didn't answer him, but the boy wasn't deterred. Since she hadn't actually forbidden him to talk about the beating, he decided to tell everything he knew.

"Uncle Brodick, you know what?"

"No, what?"

"The man, he hit her with his fist and knocked her clear off her feet to the ground, and then you know what he did? He kicked her and kicked her and kicked her. I got real scared, and I tried to make him stop, but he wouldn't."

"How did you try to make him stop?" Dylan asked.

Alec lifted his shoulders. "I don't know," he admitted. "Maybe I cried."

"A

"Just about," the woman answered.

"And then you know what? I threw myself on top of Gillian, but she pushed me away, and then you know what she did? She rolled on top of me and put her hands on my head so I wouldn't get kicked none."

"What happened then, Alec?" Liam asked.

"She patted me and told me to hush 'cause she said it was going to be all right. She wouldn't let nobody hurt me. She didn't neither," he added. "I never once got kicked."

Gillian wanted to put her hand over Alec's mouth. The men looked horrified by what the child was telling them, but their gazes were locked on her. She felt ashamed and embarrassed by what had happened.

"Was it just one Englishman who touched Lady Gillian?" Robert asked. "Or were there others?"

"Another man hit her," Alec said.

"Alec, I wish you wouldn't-" Gillian began.

"But he did hit you, don't you remember? The man kicked you, and then the other man hit you. How come you don't remember?"

She bowed her head. "I remember, Alec. I just don't want to talk about it."

The boy turned to Brodick. "You know what she did after he hit her? She smiled just to make him mad."

A

Brodick nodded. "The boy's hungry. He would appreciate a piece of your bread if that isn't too much trouble."

"Maybe with honey on it," Alec suggested.

A

"You must eat it outside," Brodick ordered. "Robert will go with you and see you don't get into mischief."

"But, Uncle Brodick, I want to stay with Gillian. She needs me, and she might get lonely."

"I'll keep her company," he promised. "Robert?"

The soldier moved forward. Alec saw him coming around the table and pressed closer to Gillian. She leaned down and whispered, "I'll call out to you if I need you."

She had to promise on her mother's heart before Alec was convinced that she wouldn't disappear if he left her for a few minutes. Then he snatched the bread from A

"He'll remember his ma

"But you got him through it unharmed." Dylan made the comment from behind her and once again put his hands on her shoulders. She wasn't sure if he was offering her praise and comfort or making sure she didn't try to escape.

A

"It isn't too hot, milady, but it's going to hurt something fierce. If you need to scream…"

"She will not make a sound." Brodick repeated the comment in a firm, no nonsense voice.

The arrogant man sounded as though he were stating a fact, and she couldn't help but be a little perturbed with his highhanded ma

A

She asked the question a scant second before Brodick nodded to the woman and she poured the liquid over Gillian's open wounds. The pain was instantaneous, horrific, consuming. Her arm felt as though it had been flayed and then dipped in lye. Her skin was on fire, the flames shooting down to her bone. Her response was just as instantaneous. Her stomach lurched, her head spun, and her vision blurred. She would have leapt out of the chair if Dylan and Brodick hadn't been holding her down. Dear God, the excruciating agony wouldn't let up. After the first spasm of wrenching pain, her skin began to throb and pulsate, and her arm felt as though hot embers were embedded in her wounds. Arching her back against Dylan, she took deep, gasping breaths, squeezed her eyes shut to hold her tears back, clenched her jaw tight so she wouldn't scream out loud, and gripped Brodick's hand with all her might.

Had he shown her a glimmer of sympathy, she would have broken down and sobbed like a baby, but when she looked at him for help and saw his calm, dispassionate expression, she was able to regain her control.

Realizing she was pressing against Dylan, she forced herself to sit forward in the chair. But she couldn't stop squeezing Brodick's hand, though God knows she tried. Just when she was certain she couldn't take another second of the torture, it began to ease.

"The worst is over, lass," A

Gillian tried, but she found it impossible to speak just yet, and so she stiffly nodded. She stared beyond Brodick's shoulder, focusing on a splinter of wood in the far wall, and prayed she wouldn't pass out.

A

After A

"There, it's done," A

Gillian nodded again. Her voice was hoarse when she thanked the woman for her help.

"If you'll excuse me for a moment," she began as she slowly stood up. Dylan took hold of her elbow and helped her. She sagged against him, slowly righted herself, and then inclined her head to A

Gillian was certain they watched her from the doorway, and so she didn't give in to the urge to run to the cover of the trees. Alec was skipping barefoot in the stream while Robert stood guard. Fortunately, the child didn't notice her when she hurried in the opposite direction or hear her when the first sob escaped.