Page 76 of The Laird's Masked Passion

Lachlan lifted his head. His eyes were bloodshot, but alert enough. Fear had woken him fully.

Colin stopped before him. “Who sent ye?”

The man swallowed. “Nay one.”

It was a poor beginning.

Colin looked at the burned edge of Lachlan’s sleeve. “Did ye set the fire?”

“Nay.”

“Were ye at the storehouse?”

“I came tae help.”

“With oil on yer sleeve?”

Lachlan’s mouth opened, then shut. Colin waited. Silence was a weapon if a man had patience enough to let another cut himself upon it.

“I found it that way,” Lachlan said at last.

Murdoch gave a short, disgusted sound.

Colin did not move. “Found what?”

“The oil, the fire. I saw smoke and ran. That is all.”

“Ye ran away from the fire. Nae towards it tae help, then.”

“I was afraid.”

“That,” Colin pointed out, “is the first honest word ye have spoken.”

Lachlan’s gaze flickered. There was something there.Nae loyalty,Colin thought,nor courage. Terror, certainly. But terror of whom? Him? Munro? Some other hand hidden behind the first two attacks?

Colin stepped closer.

“If ye ken anything, this is the moment tae decide whether silence will protect ye.”

Lachlan licked his cracked lips. “I dinnae ken anything.”

“Who paid ye?”

“Nay one.”

“Who told ye where the village stores were kept?”

“I said I dinnae?—”

Colin struck the chair with one hand. The sound cracked through the chamber. Lachlan flinched so hard the ropes creaked.

Colin leaned over him, close enough to see the pulse hammering in the man’s throat. “Dinnae insult me with the same lie twice.”

For a moment, he thought the man might break. Lachlan’s face had gone gray and his eyes darted toward the door as if mercy might enter. Then his jaw tightened.

“I have naething tae say.”

Colin straightened. Someone had told Lachlan what to fear. Someone made silence seem safer than speech, even here, in a MacKenzie tower with Colin standing before him.