She soon found out she’d woefully underestimated how bad “the worst” would be.
Drustan raked a hand through his hair and fumbled in the dark for the door. When it didn’t budge, a part of him was unsurprised. Yet another part of him met the fact with a kind of glad resignation.
She wanted battle? Battle she would get. It would be a pleasure to have it out with her finally. Once he’d ripped the door from the framing, he would exact vengeance upon her wee body with gleeful abandon. No more honorable I-won’t-touch-you-because-I’m-betrothed.
Nay—he’d touch her. Any damn place and any damn way he wanted to. As many times as he wanted to.
Until she begged and whimpered beneath him.
She’d been trying to drive him mad? Well, he was giving in to it. He would act like the animal she made him feel like being. The hell with Anya, the hell with duty and honor, the hell with discipline.
He needed to tup. Her. Now.
He slammed his body against the door.
It scarce shuddered.
Howling, he flung himself at it again. And again, and again.
It didn’t give a hairbreadth. Furious, he slammed his fists on the door above his head. Another shudder, but nothing significant.
He stepped back, eyeing it warily, telling himself he did not feel a bud of respect blossoming. Might the canny wench have wedged braces between the wall and the door, all the way up? Christ, he’d never get out! He knew how sturdy the door was, it had been hewn extra thick for privacy.
“Open up!” he roared, pounding it with his fist.
Nothing.
“Lass, if you open up now, I’ll leave you in one piece, but I swear to you, if you keep me in here one more moment I will tear you limb from wee limb,” he threatened.
Silence.
“Lass! Wench! Gwen-do-lynnnnnn!”
Outside the door, Gwen eyed the five lances lodged at varying angles between the door and the stone wall. Nope. No way. He was never getting out of there. Not until she was good and ready.
But it was pretty darned impressive how much the door shuddered each time his body hit it.
“You might have to let him yell himself hoarse, m’dear,” Silvan said, leaning over the balustrade.
Gwen tipped her head back. “I’m sorry, Silvan. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
He grinned, and Gwen realized where Drustan had gotten his mischievous grin. “I wouldn’t have missed seeing my son getting barricaded in the privy by a wee lass for anything. Bonny fortune with your plan, m’dear,” he said with a smile, then ambled off.
Gwen eyed the shuddering door, then clamped her hands over her ears and sat down to wait him out.
“I brought ye coffee, lass,” Nell shouted.
“Thanks, Nell,” Gwen shouted back.
They both jumped at the next enraged roar from behind the garderobe door.
“Is that you, Nell?” Drustan thundered.
Nell shrugged. “Aye, ’tis me. Bringin’ coffee to the lass.”
“You’re dismissed. Fired. The end. Hie you from my castle. Begone.”
Nell rolled her eyes and smiled at Gwen. “Be ye wantin’ breakfast, lass?” she said sweetly, loud enough that Drustan could hear it.
Another roar.
By ten o’clock she thought he might soon be ready to talk. He’d threatened, blustered, even tried to sweet-talk her. Then the bribery had begun. He’d let her live if she let him out immediately. He’d give her three horses, two sheep, and a cow. He’d give her a pouch of coin, three horses, two sheep, not just a cow but a milking cow, and set her up anywhere in England, if she would just leave his castle and not bother him again for the rest of his life. The only offer/threat that had perked her momentary interest was when he’d shouted that he was going to “toop her ’til her bonny legs fell off.”
She should be so lucky.
But he’d been silent for fifteen minutes now.
Gwen eyed the door, knowing that she shouldn’t instigate their little discussion. It would undermine her position as the one in control. No, he had to address her in a reasonable tone first.
And it wasn’t long before he said, “ ‘Tisna verra pleasant in here, lass.” He sounded pouty. She smothered a laugh.
“ ‘Tisna verra pleasant”—she imitated his accent—“out here either. Do you realize I’ve stayed up for the past three nights waiting for you to go to the bathroom? I was beginning to think you never did.”
Growl.
She sighed and pressed her hand against the door, as if to soothe him. Or be closer to him. This was the closest they’d been in days, with only a door between them. “I know it’s not very pleasant, but it was the only way I could think of to get you to listen. You escaped your chamber; where else could I trap you?”