Highlander Most Wanted by Maya Banks Page B

painted her in a positive light. I would know if I’ve formed the wrong impression of her.”
    Anger tightened Taliesan’s features.
    “I can assure you that whatever impression you may have formed of Genevieve is indeed very wrong.”
    “Then correct my assumption,” Bowen said patiently.
    Taliesan sucked in a deep breath, grief once more swamping her eyes.
    “I know of no other woman who has suffered as Genevieve has suffered,” she said quietly. “Her clan name is McInnis and she hails from the Lowlands, close to the English border.”
    Brodie’s eyes widened and he arched one eyebrow in Bowen’s direction.
    Bowen shook his head. “Wait a moment. She is a McInnis?”
    Taliesan nodded. “Aye, she is—or rather, she was.”
    “The McInnis clan has strong ties to the Crown,” Brodie murmured. “The laird is a longtime friend, and the McInnis clan wields much influence and power. The king is oft in residence as a guest of the McInnis laird.”
    “She is the laird’s daughter,” Taliesan softly interjected.
    “That makes no sense!” Bowen exclaimed. “The daughter of the McInnis laird no more than Ian McHugh’s whore?”
    Taliesan flinched at the insult and her eyes blazed with fury.
    “ ’Twas not of her doing!”
    Taliesan yelled the words, startling Bowen with her vehemence.
    “Tell us all, Taliesan,” Brodie urged.
    “I don’t know all,” she said in frustration. “Genevieve has never confided in me. ’Tis not something she would do, for she is intensely private and she has so little pride left that she maintains what she can.”
    “What
do
you know?” Bowen asked. “Was she truly Ian’s whore?”
    Taliesan flinched again, the color high in her cheeks. Brodie shot him a reprimanding look for offending the lass yet another time, but Bowen was only growing more impatient.
    “Ian brought her here. She did not come willingly. This I know. I saw firsthand the manner in which he treated her. It was worse for her because she resisted—or she tried to.”
    “Jesu,” Bowen muttered. “And yet naught surprises me when it comes to Ian.”
    “He was like a petulant child denied his favorite toy,” Taliesan said. “He brought Genevieve here and vowed that no man would ever look upon her with desire again. He … he cut her face,” Taliesan choked out. “Apurpose. He scarred her so she would not gain the attention of other men. He vowed that no one save him would ever possess her.”
    “He did that to her face?” Bowen asked hoarsely.
    Taliesan nodded. “Aye, but that wasn’t the worst of it.”
    “Not the worst?” Brodie asked incredulously.
    “Nay,” Taliesan whispered. “He made her his whore. His unwilling whore. He was obsessed with her and jealously possessive. No one could touch her or so much as look her way or she was punished severely. He
broke
her, Laird. Her family thinks her dead, and in a way sheis, for she is no longer the Genevieve McInnis she once was.”
    Disgust swirled like sour ale in Bowen’s belly. The conversation in her chamber replayed over and over in his mind, and he was gutted by his own disdain for the lass. He’d judged her and found her lacking. He’d acted as though she were beneath him, and he’d ignored her plea for help.
    “Sweet mother of God,” he muttered.
    “You have no idea the depths of his depravity,” Taliesan finished in a whisper.
    Bowen was speechless as he took in all she had to say. Brodie wore a dark scowl and his eyes gleamed with a murderous light.
    “His death was too quick,” Brodie snarled. “Graeme had far too much mercy. He should have been made to suffer for all he has inflicted on innocent women.”
    “How long?” Bowen asked hoarsely. “How long has Genevieve been his captive?”
    “An entire year, Laird,” Taliesan said quietly. “If you think Genevieve is being dramatic or that she seeks to manipulate you or others by taking out on foot, you’re
wrong
. She has no expectation that anyone will come after