She would not do as he bid and seduce Rebbie. But she must get word to him and Keegan about her father’s orders. They needed to know what kind of manipulative, vile man he truly was.

***

Although Seona had wanted very badly to see Keegan at the midday meal, she’d avoided the great hall because of her father and Wentworth.

’Twas early afternoon when she put on her oldest arisaid, pulling the dull plaid over her head, and slipped down the back servants’ stair to the ground floor. The few maids about paid her no heed. At all costs, she must avoid her father and Wentworth, though she had no inkling where they were.

She needed to talk to Keegan right away.

When she stepped out the kitchen doorway into the barmkin, heavy dark clouds blocked the sun and a faint misty rain hissed through the air.

Rebbie stood just outside the stables talking to one of the MacKay guards. She headed in his direction. Keegan had to be nearby.

She bypassed Rebbie, glancing up at him so he’d know who she was, and moved through the wide doorway into the stables. He excused himself from the guard and followed her inside.

“Are you looking for Keegan?” he whispered.

“Aye. Where is he? I must tell you both something.”

“I’ll go find him.” Rebbie poked his head into an empty horse stall. “You wait in here.”

Seona nodded and slipped into the stall, the packed earth floor scattered with straw. It had been recently cleaned. Her father was meticulous about his stables.

Her father. Blast him.

How could he beat her sister and then lock her in for days? Seona’s first instinct was to tell Keegan about it, but she couldn’t. If he knew how truly violent her father was, he’d likely do something drastic, putting his own life in danger.

She closed her eyes, praying neither her father nor any of his men had seen her slip out and that no one had recognized her. Through the narrow window opening in the stone wall, she listened to the rain falling harder.

The longer she waited, the more her stomach cramped with nerves. Finally, she heard Rebbie and Keegan’s deep voices as they approached.

“Thank the saints,” she whispered and faced the door.

Keegan, looking more handsome than she’d ever seen him, stepped inside the stall.

“I’ll wait out here,” Rebbie said.

“Nay,” Seona whispered. “You need to hear this, too.”

Frowning, Rebbie remained inside and pulled the stall door almost closed.

“What is it?” Keegan asked her.

Her face heating, she drew in a deep breath and stared into Keegan’s concerned eyes. “My father ordered me to slip into Laird Rebbinglen’s bedchamber tonight. He wants to force us to marry. We have to do something to stop him.”

“Saints,” Keegan hissed.

“God’s wounds. That conniving bastard,” Rebbie blurted. “Begging your pardon, m’lady.”

“Nay, you are right,” Seona said.

Rebbie’s dark brows quirked. “Well, I believe ’tis time for me to move to the barracks with the MacKay guards.”

“Aye. Good idea,” Keegan said.

Seona nodded. “I like it, but Father will suspect I’ve told you both.”

“I shall come up with a story about how I was gambling and drinking with the MacKay men and I passed out for the night in the barracks.” Rebbie shrugged.

“Very well,” Seona said. “That should work.” Still, her father was likely to assume she’d gotten word to him about it. But ’twas the only solution she could think of. If Rebbie stayed in the keep, her father might even drag her to the man’s chamber in the middle of the night and toss her into the bed with him. When her father was desperate to get what he wanted, he might do anything.

“I’ll wait out here and guard the door.” Rebbie exited and pushed the door closed.

“I cannot believe how vicious and manipulative your father is,” Keegan said, drawing her into the most concealed corner.

“Aye, he takes the prize on that. I have missed you,” she rushed to say, trying to absorb several of the things she loved about him at once—his entrancing blue eyes, his warm and charming smile, his commanding height and broad shoulders.

“I’m certain I’ve missed you more.” Keegan leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.

She slid her arms around his neck, burying her hands in his damp hair, and hung on for dear life, while his hands at her waist drew her closer. She relished each of the heated kisses he indulged her with and the way his tongue teased hers. His masculine taste and scent made her crave more of him instantly. She yearned to rip the wool and linen from his body, wanting him as bare as he’d been that evening he’d bathed in the loch.

Instead of divesting him of his clothes, she pressed her body as close to his as possible, delighting in each hard plane and ridge of muscle.

“Mmm. Seona.” He ran his hands beneath her hips and lifted her.

Lightheadedness near overcame her as he consumed her mouth with his wicked kisses. She was shocked to realize she’d immediately wrapped her legs around his hips. Leaning into her, he pressed her against the stone wall. Through their clothing, his hard shaft rubbed against an especially sensitive spot, stimulating her even more.

“Oh, Keegan,” she breathed, longing for the feel of his hot skin against hers. How she ached deep inside for him to complete their union and make her his woman. “Please.” Oh, saints! She could just imagine how wondrous he would feel.

He lavished her mouth with more sinful and beguiling kisses, making her delirious. Feverish need near overpowered her.

“I shouldn’t have brought you back here,” he said against her lips, breathing hard, his tone passionate. “I’m going to steal you away.”

“What? Nay,” she whispered, shaking her head. Icy fear sliced through her desire. “My father would send his men to hunt us down and…” Nay, she did not want to say the horrible words.

“And what?” Keegan set her to her feet, ire glinting in his eyes.

She grasped the plaid that crossed his chest. “He will order his men to kill you, Keegan. You’ve seen how vile and cruel he is.”

The muscle of his jaw flexed. “So, what are you going to do? Marry that Wentworth codpiece?”

“Nay.” The very thought sickened her. “I know not. I am trapped.”

Keegan stepped away and paced, his actions agitated. “I asked your father for your hand in marriage and he refused.”

“He told me.” Her heart ached for him, and for herself. “I’m sorry if he was rude to you.”

Keegan shrugged. “His words mean naught to me. All I care about is you.” The intensity of his eyes was like blue fire. “What if he were to force us to get married because he found us in a compromising situation?”

She shook her head. “He would not. He already suspects we’ve had a tryst. But if he thought it were really true… or if he caught me here… he would marry me off to someone else. Wentworth or someone with a title.”

“He is a weak dandy. Hell, he’s practically English.”

A pang of nausea struck her, as it did anytime she thought of Wentworth. “Aye, and I sense a vile streak in him.”

“I don’t care what I have to do,” Keegan said. “You’re not marrying him.”

Voices from outside the stall reached them. “Wentworth,” Rebbie said in a loud tone. “I was hoping you would show me your horse.”

“’Slud,” Keegan muttered, wanting to burst out the door and take his sword to Wentworth.

“Shh,” Seona hissed, her eyes wide.

He didn’t want to be caught either, but if they were, it might solve a lot of his problems—Wentworth would probably hightail it back to the Lowlands. But being discovered in a stall with Seona would also create new, deadly problems. Her father would no doubt try to kill him. Not that he would succeed.

Rebbie and Wentworth moved away from the door, their voices fading.

Keegan wanted to spend more time with Seona, but ’twas unsafe for her. Besides that, someone was likely to bring a horse back and lead it into this stall.