The Rose Red Bride JK2 by Claire Delacroix Page A

smallest coin imaginable. These are dark times, lad, upon that you may rely, and I rue that we are compelled to endure them.”
    Ruari stretched out a hand in greeting, which the younger man pointedly ignored. He shrugged then and hooked his thumb into some increment of space behind his belt, squinting at the younger man as he surveyed him. “I cannot say that I would blame you for holding a small grudge against me.”
    “Any grudge I hold is far from small.”
    Ruari squinted into the shadows of that drawn hood. “You have grown harsher since last we met.”
    “Perhaps I have grown wiser.”
    Vivienne leaned against the stone wall and watched her captor walk away from his guest. He shoved his sword back into its scabbard, that gesture and his pose showing that he trusted the new arrival, despite his harsh words.
    Vivienne was intrigued and eavesdropped shamelessly.
    “Wiser? Is that your word for your circumstance?” Ruari demanded, skepticism in his tone.
    “My circumstance is not my fault alone.”
    “What of the price upon your head in Kinfairlie village? Is that due to the deed of another?”
    The younger man glanced over his shoulder at this, but said nothing. Vivienne’s heart thrilled at these tidings. Her family had not abandoned her fully! Even if Alexander had agreed to some wager, their departure this morn had not been part of it.
    Ha! She had known that Alexander had her welfare at heart.
    Ruari shook a finger at the younger man, as if scolding him, though Vivienne could not imagine a man less likely to be scolded. “Four gold sovereigns is the sum named by the Laird of Kinfairlie himself for your sorry hide.”
    Vivienne bit her lip. Could Alexander afford such a reward?
    Her captor scoffed. “Did you seek me that you might collect your due?”
    Ruari snorted with disdain. “You should know better than that, lad, though I will not be the last to follow you here.” He raised a meaty finger like a preacher delivering the moral of his sermon. “Dead or alive were the words of the laird. Dead or alive! Any man of sense knows that dead is easier. You tempt fate in lingering so close at hand. Had you the wits your father granted to you, you would be half the way to Ireland by now instead of pacing by the sea.”
    Vivienne’s captor turned to confront the sea once more, the hem of his cloak flicking in the wind. “I thank you for your counsel, Ruari. Godspeed to you.”
    Ruari continued, undeterred by this dismissal. “And four sovereigns more for the return of the laird’s sister,” Ruari added quietly. “Eight, if she is returned without injury. What do you know of the disappearance of this lass, Vivienne?”
    “Nothing you need know.”
    “Vivienne Lammergeier is her name, Vivienne Lammergeier of Kinfairlie. I cannot be the only one of we two who has heard that name before.”
    Vivienne’s ears pricked at this. How could either of them have heard her name before? She knew nothing of either of these men.
    “Your recollections are of no import here, Ruari.”
    “Are they not? No good comes of using an innocent maiden as a tool for vengeance. You should know the truth of that!”
    “She is innocent no longer, Ruari.”
    The older man swore. He pivoted and paced a distance, then turned to confront the younger man once more. “And what do you mean to do about that? Have you wed the lass?”
    “Nay and I will not.”
    Vivienne’s heart sank to her toes at his conviction. So she was to be no better than a courtesan.
    “Is this the root of the laird’s claim?” Ruari demanded. “He will have your prick for this crime, upon that you may rely! Some cunning man will drag you back there for the price upon your head, upon that you can rely, and the tool you used to do this deed will be the first sacrifice demanded of you.”
    “Then I had best not be captured.” The younger man turned his back upon Ruari once again.
    For the first time, the older man looked on the brink of losing his temper. He