The note, his deliverance, was stowed in his jacket pocket just feet from him. He tried to speak but could only grunt in pain. An attempt to reach for it earned him a booted kick to the chest.

Forcing his eyes open, he saw that she was crying hysterically, seeming to believe her own lies. "With you and Brymer gone, I was an easy target."

The cuckold was soothing her, wrapping her in his coat. "I should never have left you—"

"Th-that fiend was in the house with me, withMaddy !" she added significantly. Whoever this Maddy was, the mere mention of her in this context made the old man swing his gaze on Ethan. Seeming dumb with rage, eyes glazed over with it, he assured her they'd take care of this on their own—no one would have to know. Ethan felt true fear rippling through him.

They'd make sure the Scottish bastard never raped another woman as long as he lived.

Castration.Cold sweat broke out over Ethan's body; they were going to take a knife to him.

The old man hesitated, then gave a nod. "Brymer, take him out back. See it done."

This Brymer was the giant with the killing look in his eyes. "It will be a pleasure." He hauled Ethan up, dealing a punishing blow to his jaw. Ethan tried to shake it off, but blackness consumed him….

He woke to the bite of a rope cinched around his wrists. A bone-deep ache radiated from his shoulders up to his clenched fingers. He tried to open his eyes—only one swollen lid would crack enough for him to see—and found himself strung up to the rafter of some type of stable. A blood-soaked gag filled his mouth.

Ethan saw a tall, burly man sitting on the edge of a stool that was about to buckle under his great weight. His meaty leg bounced with nervous energy as he cast Ethan furtive, guilty glances. The man knew. He knew Ethan was being wronged. Of course, the wife would have done things like this before. Ethan yelled behind his gag and grappled against his bonds, frenzied to tell him about the note.