Well, she’d enjoyed it a bit, Evina supposed. Certainly, she’d at least experienced the pleasure he gave her with his mouth and hands, and yes, even his cock. While that first time in the clearing she had definitely not been a fan of what his manhood could do, she had since learned it was really quite wonderful. It was also apparently quite sizable, she’d learned while talking with the other women at the table this afternoon before Conran had returned. And had that not been an amusing discussion?
Aye, she definitely must be dying, Evina decided. There was no other explanation for why she was standing there rhapsodizing over Conran’s cock when she had a murderous villain at her back, and a knife to her throat.
“Do ye want something fer it?” Gavin asked suddenly, rushing the words out and moving another step closer. She suspected by his anxious expression that it was an effort to get his father to stop sawing through her neck.
“Nay, o’ course no’. ’Tis all fer you,” the MacLeod said at once, but then added in a wheedling tone, “O’ course, with ye having two fine keeps, surely ye can find a little room in one of them fer me, eh? A room o’ me own to live out me dying days in warmth and comfort, with whiskey to warm me belly and a young maid in me bed. That’d be grand after so many years sleeping in the cold and going without. And it seems a fair enough payment fer giving ye so much.”
Evina had been watching Gavin as the man spoke, and twice he’d glanced slowly down to her side and back. The third time he did it was as the MacLeod fell silent and awaited his response. That was when she finally realized he was trying to send her a message. She couldn’t see what her cousin was looking at, but her hands were free. Reaching cautiously down with her left hand. she moved it around and then blinked in surprise when her fingers brushed up against cold metal. The MacLeod had stepped back and to the side each time Gavin had moved forward, and he’d dragged her with him. It seemed they were now standing right next to the fireplace, because Evina was quite sure what her hand had encountered was the poker that hung from a hook to the side of the fireplace.
Moving cautiously, she slipped it off the hook and grasped it firmly and then tried to decide the best way to use it. Jab it into his leg? Swing it over her head and hopefully hit his? Bend her arm, and jam it back into his stomach? She really wasn’t quite sure which was least likely to get her throat slit. All of them seemed rather risky. On the other hand, not doing anything would definitely see her throat slit. There was no way Gavin could prevent it, and sooner or later the MacLeod was just going to do it.
“Well?” the MacLeod snapped impatiently, and took the knife away from her throat to point it at Gavin angrily. “Ye’re a damned fool if ye do no’ listen to me. Now answer me, dammit!” he barked, and started to bring the knife back, only to howl in pain when Evina quickly shifted her hold on the poker, bent her arm and jammed the pointed tip back into his stomach.
The MacLeod released her at once to grab his stomach, and Evina leapt away toward her cousin, who promptly pulled her behind him and faced his father. Hurrying to her chest, Evina grabbed her sword and then whirled to rush back to Gavin, noting that there was blood slipping from between the MacLeod’s fingers. She’d used more force than she’d realized, and actually done some damage with the poker, it seemed. Good.
“Nay.” That word from Gavin made both of them glance toward him with surprise as he continued. “I’ll give ye nothing. Ye killed me mother. I’ll no’ let ye kill me uncle, and the woman who was both mother and sister to me all me days. And I’ll be damned if I ever let ye live in the same castle as me. Unless ye’re in the dungeon.”
The MacLeod’s mouth dropped open briefly at the words, and then snapped shut and he straightened grimly and raised his sword. “Why ye ungrateful, sniveling little bastard. After all the trouble I’ve gone to, ye think to treat me like this? I’ll teach ye to mind yer betters, ye—” His words died abruptly when Conran slid from the dark passage behind him and pressed his sword into his back.
“Ye’ll be teaching him naught,” Conran said coldly as Aulay slipped out of the passage behind him. “Evina’s already taught Gavin all he needs to ken.”
“Aye, she has,” Gavin said with a smile, his stance relaxing.
Conran smiled at him, and then raised his eyebrows and asked, “What do ye want to do with him?”
“Do?” Gavin asked, looking suddenly uncertain.
“Well, we have to lock him in the dungeon for now so we can hold the wedding,” Conran pointed out. “But what we do with him after the ceremony is up to you. We can deliver him to the king to have him strung up for murder, or just keep him locked up in the dungeon for the rest o’ his days.”
“Neither,” Garrick said at once. “Let me go, son. I’m yer father. And ye need me to get MacLeod back. I can tell everyone that Tearlach forced me to sign the will.”
“Or we could ride to MacLeod, ask to see the will and point out that the name on it is Gavin MacLeod, no’ Garrick as Tearlach claimed it to be,” Conran pointed out as Aulay moved around the two men and walked to the door to open it and let Geordie and Alick in. “‘Twould either be deemed a fake, or a will ye had drafted and signed for Gavin as a boy. Either way, Gavin would get MacLeod back without needing to suffer yer presence further.”
“Aye,” Gavin breathed, and glanced to Evina to grin. “Ye’ll help me settle in at MacLeod will ye no’?”
“O’ course,” she agreed with a smile, squeezing his arm.
“Well?” Conran asked gently, and then grimaced and added, “The priest is waiting on us, Gavin.”
“Oh, aye, sorry,” he muttered, and then frowned at the MacLeod and shook his head. “I ken I said that about the dungeon, but I don’t really want him here. The truth is, I don’t even want to think on him again. I suppose we should let the king deal with him.”
“Good enough,” Conran said as the MacLeod sagged in defeat. “We’ll put him in the dungeon for now, and then have Donnan arrange to see he’s transported to the king.”
“We’ll take him down to the dungeon fer ye,” Geordie offered, moving from his position by the door to stand next to Conran. “And then join ye at the church.”
“Thank ye,” Conran murmured, taking the MacLeod’s knife and sword and stepping back as Geordie and Alick stepped up. “Make sure ye check to be sure he does no’ have other weapons.”
As Geordie nodded and started to search the man, Conran moved around them to set the weapons on the table next to Evina and then turned toward her. He was just reaching for her when a grunt made her glance around. She was just in time to see Geordie falling backward, clutching his arm, and then the MacLeod was rushing toward her.
Before either Evina or Conran could move, Gavin had stepped in front of them, his broadsword pointed at a spot between his father’s throat and chest. He didn’t raise and bring it down. There wasn’t time. Gavin merely lowered the tip slightly and lunged forward, stabbing him through the heart.
The MacLeod looked surprised, and then the light went out of his eyes. Gavin stepped back, withdrawing his sword, and they all watched his father drop to the ground.