by Mariah Stone
Right?
She opened the door of the eastern tower and peeked inside. Two guards were leaning against the wall, sleeping. Hamish sat with his sword out next to one of them. As he saw the door move, he jumped up, but he lowered his sword when she appeared.
“Come, lass, we dinna have much time.”
Amy closed the door behind her. “What did you do to them?” she hissed.
“Only a sedative. They will wake up soon. Come.”
Hamish had a sedative?
“Where the hell did you get that?” she asked.
Yet another layer of Hamish she didn’t know. She carefully looked him up and down, watching for any signs of aggression or a hidden malice. But she found none. He was calm and matter of fact. The same Hamish she’d known since she’d come here. He’d been the only person who was kind to her back then.
He took two of the torches, handed one to Amy, and hurried downstairs. “I kent herbs from the woman who raised me, the farmer in Skye. Put some in their dinner. They’ll wake up soon after a good sleep, with a little headache ’tis all.”
“You have some interesting hidden skills, Hamish.”
He glanced back. “Dinna fash. I’m on yer side, lass, like I said. Come on.”
“But why do you want to help me?”
“I want to free ye, lass. Isna that what ye want?”
“Well, yes, but aren’t you supposed to serve Craig?”
“I canna stand when an innocent woman suffers.”
He opened the door to the back storeroom.
“Let us search,” he said.
She entered. Search for what? The rock was right there. What was he looking for?
Maybe to travel in time, she needed something in addition to the rock? Maybe it had fallen off or something, or she hadn’t noticed it was there. Or maybe there was some other thing that needed to be triggered before the rock would work.
She moved the torch around. “Do you know what we’re looking for?”
“Nae. We’ll know it once we see it, I suppose.”
Amy looked around. Her whole body tensed, the ceiling pressing in on her. It was as though her lungs had less capacity to breathe down here. She looked near the rock, swiping the wall and stones around it with her hands, then moved farther to the back of the cave.
Hamish was looking on the opposite side.
She searched behind the pile of timber, which looked much smaller now—a lot had been used for the scaffolds. There were more rocks, and the wall seemed to be rougher, less finished. One rock looked flat and resembled the time-traveling rock in some way. Only, it had no carvings. She ran her hand over the surface.
Then she looked closer, under the rock.
There was a gap. It smelled earthy, like mud. And there was a tiny draft of cool air.
Amy laid the torch on the floor and pushed.
It moved, revealing stairs underneath and a pitch-black entrance.
Hamish was already next to her, shining the light into the hole. He looked jubilant.
“What the hell is this?” Amy said.
“The one thing ye and I have been after, lass. Yer freedom.”
Amy shook her head in confusion. “Some sort of a cellar?”
He blinked, his frown deepening. The friendly expression on his face disappeared, and something dark and even threatening passed through his eyes.
Something was wrong.
Amy stood up, slowly, and the desire to flee, to get as far away from him as possible clenched her stomach.
“Aye, lass,” he said, his face softening again. “’Tis a cellar.”
The sense of danger disappeared, but she felt uneasy nonetheless. “So how will it help me get home?”
Hamish had just opened his mouth to say something when a soft thud came from somewhere upstairs, or at least from the storage room.
Hamish froze. “We must leave, lass.”
He grasped her by the arm and led her out of the room. They stopped, listening for any other sounds, but nothing came. Hamish climbed the stairs first, silently. He looked through the slit of the cracked door, then gestured for her to follow him.
On the ground floor, one of the guards had fallen over—that had been the thud. But both were unconscious.
“Go,” he whispered, taking her torch. “They’ll wake up any minute, and no one can see us together. Craig canna find out ye came here again.”
Amy nodded, shaking. She should tell Craig. She should just tell him about Hamish, and the whole truth about her being from another time.
She wouldn’t be going home tonight, and her heart ached with worry for Jenny, still left alone. But she would get to spend more time with Craig.
And that was the sweetest thought of all.
Chapter 27
“Where have ye been?” Craig whispered, pulling Amy closer.
Her skin felt a little chilly under the shift. Wrapped in furs and blankets, by the fire, he’d felt cozy and warm. The only thing missing had been her.
“Couldn’t sleep,” she said.
“Something troubling ye?”
She kept silent, and he rose on one elbow, the last of his sleep gone.
“What is it?” he asked and gently pressed on her shoulder so that she would turn to him.
She did, and he noticed the tears glistening in her eyes.
“What?” Craig said.
“I need to tell you something.” She sighed and bit her upper lip, her face in a mournful grimace. “I’ve just seen—”
He covered her hand with his, his heart beating violently in his chest. She lowered her eyes and shook her head. She let out a deep sigh.
“That can wait,” she said at last. “There’s a more important thing, Craig. I’m afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Of what I feel for you.”
Something melted in his chest.
“What do ye feel for me, lass?” he said.
“I’m afraid to say.”
“Then show me.”
She closed her eyes for a moment. The opening of her shift fell, revealing the inside curve of one round, full breast. He longed to take it into his mouth and play with her nipple. She cupped his face, gently, caressing his jaw. Their eyes locked—hers were deep and dark blue, like the depths of a loch in summer.
And they shone, with something he had rarely seen in his life.
Love.
She leaned down and planted a kiss on his lips, so soft and gentle, he thought he was sinking into a cloud. He pulled her closer to him, the need for her body spinning and urgent.
She withdrew a little and regarded him. “You’re so handsome, Craig. I can’t get over how handsome you are.”
“That’s because yer beauty is shining on me, lass.”
She kissed him, hungrier this time, and yet still slowly. He moaned from the sweet intensity of her, from the need he felt in her that resonated in him as well. His cock hardened for her, hot and ready. She rolled to sit atop him, straddling his hips. His erection jerked as he felt her hot cleft pressed against him.
She caressed his naked chest, then she traced her lips over his chin, down his neck and down his chest. She stopped at one nipple and licked it, sending the shudder of pleasure through him. No one has ever done that before, and it felt new and wanton and forbidden.
Intimate.
She moved to the second nipple and teased it with her tongue, too, softly nipping at it with her teeth. A jolt of pleasure shot through him, and he sucked in the air, absorbing the sensation.
“Ye wanton lass,” he murmured.
“You have no idea,” she whispered, glancing up at him.
Then she continued her exploration, trailing hot, burning kisses down his stomach. Her intention became clear when she didn’t stop at the dark curls around his erection.
“Oh, lass,” he moaned when her mouth was on him, wrapped around him and teasing him.
He tilted his head back, his hands in her silky hair. Her tongue swept up and down an
d around, turning his muscles into warm, flowing honey that she couldn’t seem to get enough of.
And soon he couldn’t, either. His flesh sensitive, he was swelling, and growing, and almost bursting.
“Lass.” He sat up, pulling her with him, and had her straddle him again. “My turn.”
“Oh.”
“Let me show ye how much I love ye.”
Her eyelashes fluttered. “You love me?”
Nae. He didn’t say that out loud—did he? He couldn’t take his words back now. The truth was out there. “Aye, Amy. I fell in love with ye. My enemy. My wife. My captive.”
Tears glistened in her eyes. She pulled him to her, desperately. “Take me, Craig. I need to feel you. I need you inside. Take me, please.”
He understood because the same need burned in him. To be together, body to body, soul to soul, heart to heart.
Without breaking eye contact, he entered her, her sleek, soft, silky insides grasped him like a plush fist. He loved to see the moment she became his, again and again, the pleasure he brought her, the connection of their bodies that made them one in soul, too.
He began moving, in the same rhythm as her, plunging into her. He knew now that she liked it slowly at first and then quick and rough, without holding back. She wrapped her legs around his hips, and her arms around his torso, her fingernails digging into his back. He watched the bliss on her face as he drove into her, again and again, melting, evaporating in the heaven he could stay in forever.
His pleasure was building along with hers, and soon she couldn’t withhold her moans.
“Look at me,” he said. “I want ye to look at me as ye find yer release.”
Because he’d be looking at her, too.
She opened her eyes, dark blue and shining in the night, reflecting the light of the fire.
He sped up, feeling her depths quivering, and she tensed, her mouth opening, gasping.
“Oh, Craig!” she moaned. “Oh, Craig.”
And then, she tumbled over the edge, her body pulsing in waves under him, her fingers digging in, holding on. He was lost, too. With one final plunge, he reached his own release, bursting, shaking, lost in her eyes, seeing the depths of her soul.
He collapsed on top of her, heavy and hot. Tremors were still coursing through her body and they breathed together.
She turned and let him lie on his side, pressing into him with her back and her delicious behind.
“I love ye, lass,” he whispered into her hair, his arm wrapping around her and pulling her closer.
She whispered, “I love you, too.”
He smiled and sighed, releasing any remnants of worry and suspicion. Because really, he had nothing to worry about with her.
But as he was drifting into sleep, mayhap, he thought she said, “And I’m sorry.”
But he’d probably dreamed it.
Chapter 28
The next day…
The farm was quiet this early. The main house, the shed, and the stables were plunged into fog as thick as whipped cream. Hamish inhaled the humid air and kept it in his lungs, enjoying the feeling of expansion in his chest.
He could use a good cup of uisge today.
He’d almost won. This heavy, humid air, rich with the aroma of rotting leaves and manure, was the scent of freedom.
Hamish had all the information he needed to send the message.
He walked to the house and knocked on the door. Inside, feet rustled against the floor, and Amhladh, the farmer, opened the door. He frowned as he saw Hamish.
“I need the birds,” Hamish said.
Amhladh’s lower jaw went to the left and to the right as if he didn’t have any teeth left.
His eyes shone as he looked Hamish up and down. “I need another shilling for that.”
What Hamish hated was greed. It was why his foster parents had worked Fiona to death. It was what moved powerful men like John MacDougall to hire people like Hamish to kill their enemies.
Fast as a lightning strike, Hamish retrieved his dagger from his belt and pointed it at Amhladh’s throat. The man’s eyes widened in fear.
“I have paid ye enough for yer trouble,” Hamish said. “I wilna be manipulated or blackmailed. Take me to the birds. Now.”
“Aye.” Amhladh stepped out and closed the door behind him. With a sheepish look, he led Hamish to the cowshed. Inside, the cage with half a dozen pigeons stood in the corner. The scent of cow manure and bird shite hung heavily in the air. Hamish walked to the cage and took one pigeon out.
He looked at Amhladh. “Ye can go.”
The man nodded and walked out with relief on his face.
Hamish waited until he heard the door of the big house closing and left the shed as well. The farm was on the outskirts of the village, where the woods started. He walked into the woods and stopped when he thought he was far enough away.
He propped one leg on a rock and took out a small piece of parchment, then a thin stick of charcoal. “Secret tunnel found. Meet me in a sennight in the village.”
He didn’t trust the exact location of the tunnel to the bird. There was always the danger someone else would catch it. He attached the parchment to the pigeon’s foot. The birds from Dunollie have been delivered to Amhladh a couple of days ago, and this one would have no problem finding its way home.
He let the bird fly, and it quickly disappeared into the mist. He was lucky it was foggy, and the bird probably wouldn’t be noticed. And even if it was, no one would be able to shoot it down in this weather.
Last night, he’d poured more sedative into the guards’ mouths to buy himself more time to see where the tunnel led to and if it was safe to use. He’d had to walk and then crawl in the complete darkness, but had eventually come out on the other side of the moat.
He would finally be successful in his mission. Even his mistake with Lachlan hadn’t changed his plan much. Yes, he’d had to pay the red-haired woman almost all of his savings to keep her mouth shut. He’d smuggled her out while the debauchery was ongoing and the guards were distracted, then told her to go to France. With the money he’d given her, she could make a decent start. And he’d put the fear into her that if she ever told anyone anything, he’d come for her.
He'd known that threat would likely keep her quiet until he’d found the tunnel, at least—she didn’t know he’d never harm her. Soon he’d get the MacDougall reward and be gone, and no one would find him.
He wouldn’t harm the MacDougall lass, either. She hadn’t done anything wrong, and she wasn’t on Craig’s side. Hamish needed more information, but his hunch told him she wasn’t a threat. If anything, she could be useful to distract Craig if needed. It was clear to him now that the man had fallen in love with her.
In any case, she’d helped Hamish find the tunnel. Now he just needed to make it out of the castle alive when the MacDougalls came and Craig found out that Hamish had been to blame all along.
Chapter 29
One week later…
“I want ye to ken, Amy,” Craig said one morning at breakfast. “I decided to allow ye to go to the storeroom in the Eastern tower alone. The guards will let ye pass.”
Amy stilled with her spoon of oats in her hand. “What?”
“I said I love ye, but I didna behave like I did.” He cleared his throat, his eyes soft and light, the color of grass toasted under the summer sun.
The past week had been the happiest time of her life. She felt drunk with love and happiness, although the guilt of keeping something important from Craig weighed on her every second of the day.
But she couldn’t bring herself to tell him the truth. How could she deliberately break his heart? That’s why she hadn’t yet tried to leave again.
And now, he’d taken the last of his defenses down.
He would let her go there alone.
He trusted her completely.
And she was going to destroy him.
Her throat clenched, her airways closing. She fisted the material of her dress.
Breathe.
Breathe.
She sucked in the air.
Her own lies were trapping her.
“And ye said ye love me, too. So I trust ye to stay. I trust ye to be on my side. Even though all my instincts scream at me not to. But I will.”
Amy had to close her mouth to stop herself from saying, “You shouldn’t.”
Because she was still leaving. For Jenny. And because sooner or later, Craig and everyone else would find out about her true identity. And about time travel.
And, most importantly, how could she bear seeing the hurt in his eyes when he learned she’d lied?
So it was better to go now. Today. Now that the way was clear, she only needed to figure out how to activate the portal. She wondered why Hamish hadn’t suggested trying again.
“Thank you, Craig,” she mumbled.
He covered her hand with his and squeezed it. It was warm and dry and so familiar. Even just the simple touch sent a wave of comfort and joy through her.
She was a traitor. Her father had been right—she was a coward. She was able to find and rescue people. She was able to search for others in confined spaces without letting a panic attack get to her.
But this. Telling Craig the truth. Hurting him.
She just couldn’t.
And she could feel the disaster at her fingertips.
When the breakfast was done and the great hall cleaned, she hurried to the eastern tower. Like Craig had said, the guards let her pass.
She would just take a peek. She wouldn’t go yet. She just needed to figure out if the stone worked at all. Maybe it didn’t. Then the problem would be solved. She’d stay with Craig. The idea sent a thrill of relief and joy through her, but she pushed it aside.
On shaky legs, she took a torch, opened the door, and descended the stairs.
From outside, she heard shouts and cries. Feet pounded across the courtyard. Weird. Maybe, Craig was starting a new military training routine. Even better cover for her. She opened the door to the underground storeroom. There was another source of light already there, in the furthest corner of the room. Amy walked in.