Highland Dragon (The Treasure of Paragon #6) - Genevieve Jack Page 0,27

outside her room at the brothel. The Lachlan who purportedly slew the dragon. She blinked.

The laird was not Xavier but Lachlan. So where was Xavier? Her heart pounded and panic threatened to make her knees give out.

“Who are ye?” the pale man demanded, harsh lines forming around his mouth.

“My name is Avery… Campbell,” she said, thinking quickly. Wasn’t the population of this bubble predominantly Campbells?

“Very weel, Avery, whit can I do for ye?” He strode around the desk to approach her. The man was eerily slender, like something out of a nightmare.

For a moment Avery couldn’t speak. Her brain was so overwhelmed with terror at the turn of events that she had a strong desire to make a run for it. But running wouldn’t do a lick of good in this scenario. The two men in the room could easily overpower her. She had no recourse if they hurt her. All she had was her wits and the weapons God gave her. So she did the only thing she could do given the situation. She coughed into her hand and lied.

“I was told you might need kitchen staff.” She fluttered her eyelashes and stood up taller to make full use of her figure.

Lachlan scowled. “Ya dinna need to be seein’ me for such a thing.” He stepped toward her, his gaze raking down her body. His eyes were so dark as to be almost black, and the look sent a distinct chill through her. It wasn’t the male gaze she expected, so often laden with sexual energy. No, Lachlan looked at her like a pig he’d like to roast over a spit. “I suppose ye are a bonny lass. Were ye hopin’ I’d take an interest?”

“I need work.”

His icy stare bore into her as if he were trying to rip the truth from her gullet. Several tense moments passed.

“I donna recognize ye from around here.”

“Not surprising. I never left my parents farm before now. I’m from… the mountains.”

“Take my hand,” he ordered. “I’ll warn ye—I can tell if ye’re lyin’ if ye do.”

Tentatively, she placed her fingers into his. What choice did she have? Almost immediately, her hand tingled where their palms touched. He was squeezing too hard, cutting off the flow of blood to her fingers. She didn’t pull away though. This was a test, and she was determined to pass.

“Now why’re ye really here?”

The secret to telling a lie, Avery knew, was to tell a half truth. If your brain registered your exact words as true, your body wouldn’t give you away. Only, her palm was drenched with sweat and her body was growing alternately hot and cold as her mind scratched the surface of what kind of trouble she was in. She looked him straight in the eye. “My father is no longer able to provide for me. My mother is gone. I can’t survive on my own. I was told to seek out the laird and throw myself on his mercy.” She sagged her head and lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry I didn’t do this the right way or talk to the right person. I’ve never been away from home before.”

Another moment passed, Lachlan raking her with his dark, probing gaze. “She tells the truth,” he said to the guard. His eyes narrowed as he removed his hand. He seemed as surprised as Avery was that he believed her. “Take her down to Mistress Abernathy. See if she has a place for her.”

“Aye, sir.” The guard bowed, then took Avery’s elbow, meaning to lead her from the room.

“Wait!” Lachlan said, raising his hand again. He approached her again and took her face into his narrow, bony fingers. It was like being touched by a corpse, but Avery held her practiced smile. “You are a lovely wee thing.” His eyes flicked to the guard. “Tell Mistress Abernathy it would please me if she hired this lass.”

“Aye.”

He released her face, and Avery didn’t breathe again until they were in the hall and the guard was leading her into the bowels of the castle. The walk gave her a moment to process what she’d just learned. Xavier was no longer in control of Castle Dunchridhe. A man named Lachlan was. And if the song and the painting were any indication of what had happened to Xavier, Lachlan had killed him.

“Ye all right, lass? Yer trembling like a newborn colt,” the guard said kindly.

All she could do was nod and say, “I’m all right.” Although she was far from it.