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  “Aye, he is,” she said fiercely.

  “Is he worth your daughter’s life?” Despenser interjected softly.

  The breath left her. She froze in abject horror. She turned on William. “You would do this? You would harm your brother’s daughter to capture one man?”

  “He isn’t just one man,” Despenser snapped. “He can lead us to many others. Men the king will be extremely grateful to know the identities of.”

  She should have known it would be Despenser’s political ambitions at work. She pretended not to know what he was talking about and continued to stare accusingly at William.

  “Of course I don’t want to see the lass harmed,” he assured her. “But you leave us no other choice.”

  “Where is she?” she demanded. “Where is my daughter?”

  “She’s safe. For now,” Despenser said ominously.

  But she could see from William’s face there was more. “She’s in the guard room at Berwick Castle.”

  No. Bella felt the ground begin to move. Her stomach knifed.

  “I believe there’s a cage free for her, if you refuse,” Sir Hugh added.

  Oh God, no! Horror rushed to smother her. Then everything went black.

  * * *

  It was a few hours before Lachlan could make his way back to her. He led his pursuers south for miles. After ditching both his horse and his borrowed, too-small armor near the sea—hoping they’d think he’d escaped by ship—he’d circled back on foot.

  It seemed to take forever. His heart was pounding in his throat the entire time. If anything happened to her …

  He tried not to think about it, tried to concentrate on his surroundings, but fear had wormed its way into his consciousness and no amount of force and determination would root it out.

  Although there were still a few search parties concentrated in the area around the convent, the forest approaching the hunting lodge was ominously silent. His senses honed even sharper. Occasionally, he would hear a shout or the sound of dogs barking in the distance behind him, but it seemed the English had yet to extend their search this far out in his direction.

  It was almost too quiet. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. The dark feeling of foreboding weighed heavier with each step.

  Though his heart urged him to race back to Bella as quickly as he could, he forced himself to proceed cautiously and be on the watch for any signs of danger. He couldn’t afford to make any mistakes. He wouldn’t let his emotions distract him—not this time.

  Please, let her be safe. Lachlan repeated the prayer over and over in his mind. Though after so many years of disuse, he didn’t expect anyone to be listening.

  He kept to the shadows, darting through the trees and shrubs, pausing occasionally to listen and scout for any signs of a trap.

  Nothing. Winter had deadened even the sounds of nature.

  When at last the clearing and the old forester’s cottage came into view, he could barely breathe. It seemed as if he’d been holding his breath for hours.

  He scanned the moonlit landscape. Water on the right; horses tied to a tree exactly where he’d left them; wooden cottage a little farther away in the distance, slightly obscured by the trees, and dark but for the faint flicker of the oil lamp streaming through the cracks in the shutters.

  He moved slower now, every nerve ending set on edge. Though his senses told him nothing was wrong, his instincts urged otherwise.

  Suddenly, he froze at a cracking sound from above. A few moments later, he heard the sound of leaves rustling and realized it was an animal moving along the branches.

  With a long exhale, he continued. Finally, he stood a few feet away from the lodge. Lifting his hand to his mouth, he hooted like an owl to let her know he approached and waited—heart hammering and blood pounding—for her response.

  It came. The melodious call of the nightingale. The sweetest damned sound he’d ever heard. Thank God. All was well.

  He bounded up the last few feet and pushed open the door, half-expecting her to be there to greet him.

  He was surprised instead to see her seated on a stool before the fire with her back to him.

  But it was she, and his heart sighed with relief to see her sitting there. “Bella?”

  She turned only enough for him to see her profile, as if she couldn’t bear to meet his eyes. Her face was as still and as pale as carved alabaster, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

  A chill slid down his back. He lurched forward, taking her hand. It was as cold as ice. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  Before the words were out of his mouth, he had his answer. His head jerked around at the sounds coming from outside as a swarm of soldiers descended around them like vultures.

  No. His mind warred with his heart. He raced back to the open door, not wanting to believe what was happening.

  But when he saw Despenser and Comyn emerge from the trees, he knew the inescapable truth: Bella had led him right into a trap.

  Shock permeated every fiber of his being. But the pain of betrayal that followed cut like a knife through his heart.

  Not again. He couldn’t have made the same mistake again. She loved him; she would never betray him. There had to be an explanation.

  As the men came forward to take him, he turned to look at her. “Why?”

  If he hoped for a denial, he was to be disappointed.

  “I’m sorry,” she cried, her face crumpling in despair. “Oh God, Lachlan, I’m so sorry.” The men grabbed him from behind. He let them drag him away. It was true. “They have Joan. They have my daughter!”

  Twenty-one

  They’d lied to her.

  Bella thought the moment they dragged Lachlan away, seeing the shock of betrayal written on his face, was the worst moment of this hideous nightmare. But being brought back to Berwick Castle, tossed in the guard room, and told she would not be reunited with her daughter after all—that her daughter didn’t even know she was here, and that it had all been a lie to trick her into betraying Lachlan—made it so much worse.

  Her daughter had never been in danger. According to William, she rejected any connection with her mother and enjoyed her position in England. Bella was relieved to know her daughter was safe but refused to believe the rest.

  She was ashamed by how easily she’d been duped. How once again they’d used her fear for her daughter to control her, this time inducing her to betray the man she loved.

  The look on his face when he’d realized what was happening would haunt her for the rest of her life. She sank back against the stone wall. However short that life might be.

  Despair flooded through her. To have found happiness after all these years and have it wrenched away so cruelly was a crushing blow. Lachlan would never forgive her. Just like his wife and mother, she was just another woman who’d betrayed him.

  Even knowing she hadn’t had a choice didn’t make it any easier. He had a chance in prison; her daughter didn’t.

  He was right. Everyone was capable of betrayal because everyone had a weak spot. And they’d found hers.

  She bowed her head on her knees, her heart twisted with anguish. Where was he? What was happening to him? Were they hurting him? Was he cursing her name right now for what she’d done to him?

  She couldn’t bear to think about it.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks, burning like acid. God, how miserably she’d failed! Not only Lachlan but her daughter as well. Now they were all at the mercy of Edward and his men.

  Dear God, what would become of them?

  The English were taking no chances of his escape.

  The last thing Lachlan remembered before being doused with cold water was Bella’s anguished face as he was being dragged away. They’d manacled his hands, and then he’d felt an explosion of pain behind his ear. From the violence of his headache, he gathered a war hammer or the hilt of a sword had struck him from behind.

  The ice-cold water brought him harshly back to consciousnes