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mean?"
    His grin grew nasty and his lewd gaze traveled down her body. "Although your voice is lovely, 'tis not the part of you I'm interested in at the moment."
    Her heart vaulted into her throat. Dear God, help me.
    Spurred by her instincts, she threw the bowl at him and darted toward the shed's exit. He snatched her arm and jerked her around hard. Pain shot through her shoulder. "Ow!"
    "Where are you going? We're about to have some fun, lassie."

Chapter Three
     
    Anna shoved at Farquar's massive, armor-covered chest. "Unhand me! Now!" Panic slashed through her. She tried to yank her arm free of the guard, but his tight grip proved vicelike.
    "You're awfully demanding for a mere servant." He laughed and turned her to face away from him.
    "I'm no servant!" She elbowed him in the stomach.
    He grunted, gave her hair a painful yank and spoke against her ear. "I'll tell you what you are. You're my whore and you're going to service my needs anytime I want." He ground himself against her derriere.
    Nausea welling inside her, she yelled, "Help!" Then she let out a piercing scream, hoping even those in the great hall would hear her. But with the loud music, she had little hope.
    Dear God… help me…
    The beast covered her mouth with his hand, picked her up and carried her into the dark back corner of the shed, behind a pile of hay. Oh, saints! What was she going to do? Terror rampaged through her like a runaway team of horses.
    My knife! Aye, if only she could reach the knife on her calf.
    She sank her teeth into his hand, but his palms were so calloused, he barely seemed to notice. She kicked her heels against his legs, elbowed him.
    He lay her face down and sat straddling her, pinioning her beneath him. He shoved her face into the rough and scratchy straw and removed his hand. She turned her face aside and screamed as loud as her voice would allow.
    "Shut your mouth, bitch," he hissed.
    He quickly tied some sort of cloth through her mouth and around her head. She continued to shout but the sounds were so muffled no one would hear them.
    Moving to one side, Farquar yanked at her skirts.
    If she didn't hurry, he would see her small dagger and take it from her. He might even kill her with her own blade.
    She turned, kicking at his head. Her heel smashed against his jaw. He flung his full weight on top of her, near crushing her.
    "You whore!" he growled low and placed his hand tight around her throat, cutting off her air.
    Saints! She gasped for breath but could get none. Panicked, she clawed at his fingers.
    "Do that again and I'll choke you," he said. "If you want to live, you'll give me what I want and you'll tell no one."
    Suffocating, she struggled against his overwhelming strength, trying to draw her knee up toward her chest so she might reach her weapon. It was her last hope.
    "Do you understand?" He shook her.
    Mindless and desperate for air, Anna nodded, tears blurring her vision. He released some of the pressure from her throat and she inhaled deeply.
    Slowly, she eased her hand downward. First, she had to pull up her skirts past her calf without him noticing. Unlikely.
    "I've wanted you since the first time I saw you, wee songbird," Farquar whispered against her ear. "You're as lovely as a wild rose."
    Nausea welled up inside her. She tried to kick him off, but he was massive, his hard strength immovable.
    Please, God, help me!
    ***
    From the battlements, Neacal observed the moonlight reflecting off the rippling loch below. The wind blew through his hair and he drew the fresh salt air deep into his chest. Anna's songs this eve had again twisted through him. He could not grasp the profound effect it had on him. Disturbing and soothing at the same time. After she finished singing, he'd simply wanted to get away from the crowd and listen to the silence for a while, let the memory of the music wash over him again. Or talk to her, but she'd disappeared. He wanted to go searching for her but everyone would notice. The servants