Lost

Chapter 11

It was one of those rare moments when Duncan could almost forget who he was and actually enjoy himself. He was trying to teach Louisa how to play chess, but Louisa had decided the game was far too serious and was in the process of making some of the most outrageous comments about the various pieces and their “relationship” to one another. Duncan was enjoying himself far too much to be frustrated with Louisa’s feigned indifference to the rules of the game.

There were startled by a loud shout demanded to know where Sarah was. Andre burst into the room a moment later. Both Duncan and Louisa jumped to their feet. Face set in a furious scowl, Andre turned to Louisa and told her to get out, leave for the day. She quickly complied.

As soon as he saw Andre’s face a streak of pure panic shot through Duncan. He wrapped his arms around himself wanting to run yet glued to where he stood. As the library door shut behind Louisa Andre turned and took a step towards Duncan. Duncan’s face was a frozen mask of fear. What had happened?!

“You and Pierson were lovers...” Duncan wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement, but the truth was obvious on his face without his saying a word. With a savage cry Andre backhanded Duncan, knocking him to the ground. The blows began raining down as Duncan tried to cover his head. Fighting back never occurred to him. Hands grabbed him around his hips as he tried desperately to crawl away, he heard grunted words punctuating the blows “...no other men...nothing in your chronicles...kill the incompetent bastards watching you...”

Too shocked to cry out, Duncan tried to ward off the blows but they came both fast and furiously. At some point Andre had picked up the poker from the fireplace and broke both of Duncan’s forearms as he tried to protect his head. Clothing torn, Duncan was bleeding from innumerable cuts, lips swollen and his eyes swelling shut as he tried to curl up to protect ribs that were already broken. The hardness in his abdomen warned him that he was bleeding internally. He could barely feel the toe of Andre’s shoe as he was kicked in the back and knew he would be dead soon. His last thought was that he hoped Andre would either take his head or at least calm down while he was dead.

A deep gasp brought Duncan back but it was quickly followed by an equally deep groan as pain radiated throughout his body, his healing still incomplete. It had been some time since he’d been beaten to death and it was never fun. He opened his eyes to find that he was still in the library, lying in a pool of cold, congealed blood on an extremely expensive carpet. Take that, Andre, next time you want to beat me to death.

He laid still for a moment to catch his breath, but eventually rolled over and got to his knees. Looking up he saw Andre sprawled in a chair, sipping a tumbler of whiskey. He’d loosened his tie while he waited, but judging from his expression he hadn’t calmed down that much.

Despite the fear in his belly he felt a surge of his old bravado. “I don’t suppose I could have one of those, too...” No change to the expression. “I didn’t think so.” Tightening his belly to force down the surge of bile, he made himself ask. “What did I do, Andre?”

Andre watched as Sarah came back, still a fascinating process. Despite his expression, he had actually calmed somewhat. Of course, the man he’d had watching MacLeod the night of the auction was no longer an issue, but he still hadn’t decided what to do about his little pet. He was actually a bit surprised at his own reaction to the thought that another man may have had Sarah before him. How much did that really change things? Not much in reality...but he had to know. He’d been watching this immortal man nearly his entire life and knew that there had been only women before Pierson came along. Meeting Pierson didn’t answer anything...but he knew that if Sarah had fucked Pierson rather than the other way around, it was still alright. Why that was he didn’t know...it just was.

“Is Pierson the only man you’ve ever fucked?” Duncan was wary about the line of questioning. He wasn’t quite sure where Andre was going with this, or even how he found out. Oh, God...has he done something to Methos? A sharp pain clenched his chest...he had to find out.

“Yes, Andre...he’s the only one...” Truth, no matter what he asks stay as close to the truth as possible. Methos always said he couldn’t lie worth a shit.

“Your chronicles don’t mention any men...who besides Pierson have you been to bed with?” Andre could feel the acid boiling in his stomach at the thought of another man’s hands on his pet. He shoved it down...he had to stay clear so that he would know if Sarah tried to lie.

“I’ve never been to bed, really...hands only...battle camps...Andre, please...what is this about?” He had to try...had to know if Methos was alright.

“Did you enjoy Pierson’s cock up your ass?”

So that’s it! “He hasn’t...we didn’t...Andre, you’re the only one...I swear it.” The truth...fortunately.

Andre prided himself on being able to read other people. His honest and noble Highlander wasn’t known for telling lies...and he saw no deception now. The knot in his gut eased leaving a desperate need to reaffirm his ownership in its wake. Tossing aside the tumbler he quickly stood, appreciating the flinch his little pet gave at his quick movement. Grabbing her by the hand, he literally dragged her to the bedroom. She was his and his alone! There may not be any marks left on her skin by morning, but by God she’ll know it deep inside...

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The guard watched from his position near the rear of the stairs as his employer dragged a very bloodied Mademoiselle up the stairs. His stomach churned. Dear God! What did he do to her? He didn’t understand the level of cruelty his employer showed this poor man/woman he kept. Guilt niggled at the back of his brain for his part in kidnapping the man in the first place. Guilt kept him trying to understand his employer’s actions. Monsieur Lacasse was normally a fair and generous employer who treated his employees and their families well. He definitely had their loyalty. But they all knew he was a driven man…and now they knew why. All that intense training on a daily basis was apparently for the purpose of subduing this man. That strange doctor and all the time spent in the basement had resulted in changing the man into this ‘woman’. He wondered if all the guards on duty throughout the estate, and there were many more than he would have thought necessary, were because of the Mademoiselle and possibly her friends. He didn’t know. And then there were the others the Monsieur had hired…those that watch. They were common thugs and murderers being paid quite a bit to do the Monsieur’s bidding. He wasn’t sure what their orders were, but he was glad they didn’t come onto the estate. All in all, it was very puzzling. But in the end, the Mademoiselle didn’t seem worse for the wear no matter how extreme her time spent with the Monsieur was. And despite how much her situation bothered him, despite the regard he held for her, it really wasn’t his place to question these events. He had to let it go.