“I heard shouts behind me,” Alex said, looking over his shoulder.
Finn and Lachlan pulled him off the beach and onto a trail that cut across the headland to the inlet on the other side, where the boat was hidden.
“I see ye kept the dog,” Alex said as they ran along the trail.
“I’m giving him to Ella,” Finn said. “A bairn should have a dog.”
“She’ll like him,” Alex said. “He’s as raggedy as her doll.”
The first half of the trail was uphill. When they reached the top and Finn had a good view of the shoreline on both sides of the headland, he stopped.
“Lachlan will take ye to Dornoch,” he told Alex. “I’ll keep watch and divert the Sinclairs if need be while ye get away.”
Finn lifted Alex’s cap off his head and put in on, covering his hair as best he could. Though he was considerably taller than his cousin, people generally saw what they expected to see. The Sinclairs did not know yet that Alex had friends meeting him and were likely to follow a lone man running away from them.
“You’re not coming with me?” Alex said.
“Lachlan will see ye safe.” Finn gripped his cousin’s shoulders and gave him a wink. “Remember, I’ve got a bonny bride waiting for me to come home.”
She was waiting to leave him, but Alex did not need to know that.
“Ye ought to get rid of that dog,” Lachlan said, “or he’ll give ye away.”
“Ach, no, he’ll be quiet as a mouse, won’t ye?” Finn said.
The dog barked in response—not a good sign.
“Hurry now!” Finn said.
He watched Alex and Lachlan scurry down the backside of the hill toward the cove where the boat was hidden. Luckily, the sky was growing dark with the coming storm, so they should be able to slip down the coast to Dornoch without being seen.
When Finn looked back the other way, he cursed. A line of men was on the shore coming from Dunrobin. He picked up the wee dog and put him in the bag he had slung over his shoulder and waited for the Sinclair men to spot him.
It did not take long. When he ran inland along the ridge, the Sinclairs started up the hill toward him. He could see Alex and Lachlan still scrambling down the hillside to the boat. Run faster, dammit! If the Sinclairs reached the top of the hill and saw them, Alex and Lachlan could not get to the boat and sail away before the Sinclairs raced down the hill and shot their arrows into the boat.
Finn had to keep the Sinclair warriors from cresting the hill, so he dropped down to their side. He shifted direction from side to side, but always making sure they could see him.
He glanced over his shoulder and grinned when he saw that every one of them was following him. Ha, George Sinclair was going to be furious when he learned Alex had escaped. Finn might not escape himself, but he would lead these Sinclairs on a good chase.
###
Margaret screamed as she bounced against the rock walls of the crevice. With a final, jarring thump, she landed in a heap at the bottom. She hit so hard it knocked the breath out of her. For one terrifying moment, she could not suck in air, then she gasped as pain hit her like an anvil.
Far above her, she could just make out against the night sky the darker outline of a figure leaning over the opening. Clenching her teeth to keep from moaning, Margaret forced herself to remain still. Though it was too dark at the bottom for Isabel to see her clearly, she could feel Isabel’s cold gaze watching for movement.
How long would the wretched woman wait to be sure?
Finally, the figure disappeared. Isabel must have been satisfied that Margaret was either dead or too badly injured to survive. Or perhaps she was convinced Margaret could not escape and would die a slow death.
When the initial shock of pain subsided, she sat up and ran her hands over her body, checking for injuries. She was bleeding from cuts and scratches, her knee and hip were badly bruised, and her ankle was already swelling. Miraculously, nothing seemed broken, but every part of her body ached and throbbed. When she tried to stand, she could not put weight on the leg with the injured ankle.
The realization hit her that no one would find her here. Una was the only one who knew she’d taken the path to Lachlan’s cottage. And she’d gone off the path, so even Una would not know where to look. If Margaret had any hope of surviving, she had to climb out.
Raindrops hit her face as she looked up at the daunting distance to the jagged edge of her prison. Then thunder cracked, and lightning filled the chasm with a flash of light, briefly revealing the steep wall of rock she had to climb. If she wanted to survive, she had to try.
Feeling her way up the wall for clefts and cracks, she started climbing. Gritting her teeth each time she had to put weight on her injured leg, she made her way up several feet. Reaching up, she grasped a brush growing out of the rock. As she pulled herself up, the brush came loose in her hand. She screamed as she careened down the side.
When she hit the ground, the pain in her ankle shot up her leg and nearly blinded her. Shaken and gasping for breath, she dropped her head onto her knees. She would have to wait until morning when she could see to climb before risking it again.
She clutched her knees, shivering against the cold. Her gown was wet from the rain and clung to her skin.
With a long night ahead of her, she had nothing to do but dwell on her regrets. When Finn returned and could not find her, he would think she had left him. She had told him she would. How could she have been so foolish? Rather than risk pain, she had thrown away happiness for them both.
She could die in this black hole. If she had the chance again, she would not waste another hour that she could have with him. Her only comfort was knowing Finn would take care of Ella. She had no doubt he would. If only she could be with them…
She felt a prick against her skin and looked down to find the brooch Finn had made for her with the broken bits of onyx hanging by a thread from her torn bodice. Bursting into tears, she clutched it in her hand and prayed Finn knew how much she loved him.
Exhausted, she rested her head against the cold wall of rock. She awoke some time later to the sensation of ice-cold water on her feet. Scooting away from the puddle of rain that had collected there, she felt around her for a drier spot.
Water was all around her.
Fearing the worst, she tasted her wet fingers. They were salty. She tried to remember how close the trail had been to the sea. Too close.
Panic closed her throat. Her rocky prison was filling with the incoming tide, and she had no way out.
CHAPTER 30
Finn walked the last few miles back to Helmsdale with rain and wind pelting his face like accusations. Now that Alex was safely away and Finn had lost the Sinclair men following him, he could no longer avoid thinking about his mistakes with Margaret.
With time and distance, he recognized that he could have responded better to the revelation that she was able to conceive a child. And he definitely should not have shouted at her and told her she had to marry him. That was not at all how he planned his marriage proposal to go.
He’d forgotten all about the wee dog until he whimpered.
“What do you have to complain about?” he said as he reached in to pat the dog. “You’re warm and dry in there.”
After another mile, he thought about the miscarriage she suffered during the Battle of the Causeway. It can’t have been easy for her to share her pain from that day, and all he could hear at the time was that she was not barren. He thought she’d lied to him.
For the first time, it occurred to him that perhaps she had not rejected him because he was not good enough or because she did not care, but because she was afraid. Afraid of being under a man’s authority again. Afraid of being mistreated and taken advantage of. Afraid of losing a child again. Afraid of being abandoned.
After what she’d been through, he should have known, but he’d been blinded by his own past. Though he pretended his family’s rejection and Curstag’s betrayal did not affect him, t
hey made him believe he was unworthy of love and could never truly belong.
What if Margaret was with child now? His child. Surely many women who had miscarriages also had healthy children.
God knew he never expected to be a father, and Gilbert had set a poor example. But Finn would try his best. He wanted to be the kind of father he did not have. The kind who saw the good in his children, who laughed with them, and who was always there for them when troubles came.
But if Margaret lost the child, he could not bear for her to suffer alone. He needed to be with her, no matter what happened.
He leaned into the wind. The storm had not let up, and it was full dark now. He could not explain it, but an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. A warrior learned to trust his instincts, and his instincts told him Margaret was in danger.
He started to run. He did not stop until he reached Helmsdale. He was out of breath as he passed through the gate.
“Finn—” The guard tried to speak to him, but Finn ignored him and continued across the yard without pausing.
Though he tried to tell himself he had no cause to fear for Margaret’s safety, his pulse pounded, find her, find her, FIND HER! He burst into the hall, but she was not there. He took the stairs at a dead run.
When he opened the door to their chamber, it was empty. His stomach dropped to the floor when he saw that all her belongings were gone. He opened the door to Una’s chamber and found it empty too. He sat down on the bed he’d shared with Margaret and held his head in his hands.
She had left him.
He was overwhelmed with regret. Regret that he had not told her he loved her. Regret that he had not made the most of every moment he had with her. Regret that they would not live to old age together and watch Ella and the other children they might have grow up.
The dog poked his head out of the bag and nudged Finn with his paw, as if prodding him to get up and do something. Here he was wallowing in remorse when Margaret could be in danger.
Even if she still wanted to leave him, she promised not to go before he returned. Something must have happened to make her decide she could not wait for him. Margaret would not break her word lightly, so that something must have been serious and unexpected.
And how did she leave? A beautiful woman like Margaret could always persuade some man to take her where she wanted to go. But would the man she chose keep her safe? Would he be a danger to her? Margaret was altogether too trusting.
Finn needed to find her and make sure she was safe. If she did not want to come back with him, he would see her safely to the MacKenzies himself. He started for the door, but something on the floor just under the edge of the bed caught his eye.
His hand shook as he picked up Ella’s rag doll. The wee bairn had carried it across half of Scotland and could not sleep without it. They must have been in a terrible hurry to leave without it. He examined the room more closely now, looking for clues, and found Margaret’s cloak wedged between the bed and wall. O shluagh, she had gone out on this cold and stormy night without it.
He was more certain than ever that something terrible had happened. Moving quickly, he tucked his axe in his belt, gathered her cloak and the other things he might need, and ran down the stairs to the hall.
“Has anyone seen my wife?” he shouted at the group gathered around the hearth.
Everyone, except for Isabel and Curstag, shifted their gazes to the floor or the ceiling, anywhere but at him. Curstag gave him a pitying smile and drew him aside.
“How well do ye really know this Maggie?” she asked.
“Why would ye ask that now?”
“I want ye to hear this from a friend who cares about ye,” she said. “I’m afraid there’s speculation about her since she disappeared tonight.”
“Speculation of what?” he demanded, though he could guess that they all thought she’d run off with another man.
“I’m not saying I believe it,” Curstag said in a hushed voice, as if everyone in the hall did not already know what she was about to tell him. “I like to see the best in people, but her sneaking away does appear to prove it.”
“Prove what?” Goddammit, would the woman not get to the point?
“That your mysterious bride is the one who did it, of course,” she said.
“I’ve no time for your games.” Finn resisted the urge to shake her. “Speak plainly.”
“They’re saying Maggie is the murderer,” Curstag said. “She used ye, and now that the black deed is done, she’s gone and left ye.”
“She is no murderer.” He turned and shouted at the others, “I need men to help me search for my wife!”
He waited for someone to come forward. None did.
“There’s no sense in looking for her till daylight,” one of the men ventured. “Even if she’s out there, we won’t find her tonight in this storm.”
Between the darkness and the storm, the odds were against finding her. But what these men were really thinking was that, whether Margaret was the murderer of no, she had left him and did not want to be found.
Belatedly, it occurred to Finn that someone in this room could be the reason she left in a rush without her cloak and Ella’s doll. He could not take any of them with him, even if they offered. He needed to do this alone.
When he reached the gate, the guard was there.
“I was here when your wife left,” he said. “She didn’t seem right to me.”
“What do ye mean, not right?”
“At first, I thought she’d had a few too many nips of whisky, but I don’t believe that was it,” the guard said, drawing his brows together. “Usually she greets everyone with a smile and a few words, but she was real quiet-like and acted as if she did not really see me.”
“Did she say anything?”
“Just one thing,” he said, after pausing to think. “After I told her the weather was turning bad, she said, ‘I must hurry.’”
Was Margaret in a hurry because of the weather or some other reason?
“I was surprised to see her without that wee lassie of hers,” the guard said.
“Ella wasn’t with her?” Finn asked, alarm coursing through his body. “You’re sure?”
“Aye,” the guard said. “I saw Una take the bairn out in the afternoon, but I assumed they’d come back long since.”
Questions swirled in Finn’s head as he saddled Ceò. Was Margaret worried because Una and Ella were late returning with a storm brewing? If so, why had she not alerted the men and asked them to help her look for them? Instead, she had slipped out quietly on her own as it was growing dark without mentioning to the guard that they were still out and she was going to fetch them.
The guard said she acted strangely. Was she ill? Afraid?
Finn wondered again if she was trying to evade someone, to leave without that someone realizing she did not intend to return. If anyone saw her leave without Ella, they would assume she was going out for a short time, not departing. The same was true if they saw Una and Ella go out.
Why the subterfuge? As Finn was away at the time, it could not be him Margaret was attempting to evade. Who was she afraid of? And in this storm, where would she go?
He had to think. If Una was helping Margaret and Ella escape, he thought he knew where the old nursemaid would take them. He hoped to God he was right and that they were not out in this storm without shelter.
“We’ll see if you’re a hunter,” he said, holding Margaret’s cloak to the dog’s nose. “Help me find her.”
He tucked the dog inside the fold of his plaid with Ella’s ragdoll then led Ceò out into the driving rain. Holding the lantern in front of him, he followed the path that led to Lachlan’s cottage. It was four miles, a fair distance for an old woman with a young bairn, but Una knew every inch from walking it for sixty-odd years. And unlike Margaret, Una and Ella had left in daylight and before the storm.
Every few yards he called Margaret’s name and paused, hoping to hear a response over the sound
of the rough sea pounding against the cliffs.
Ruff! Ruff! Ruff! The wee dog stuck his head out of Finn’s cloak and barked.
“What is it, laddie?”
The dog leaped down and sniffed frantically around Finn’s feet. Before Finn could grab him, he darted off the path into the darkness. Where in the hell was he going?
“Get back here,” Finn shouted.
Ruff! Ruff!
Ice lodged in Finn’s heart. Surely, Margaret knew better than to wander off the path in the dark. But she was not from Sutherland. Had he warned her about the danger of the bogs here in the flow country? He could not remember.
Ruff! Ruff!
Finn went after the dog, stepping through thick gorse and slipping on moss-covered rocks. If the dog was chasing a damned rabbit, Finn was losing precious time—not to mention risking falling into a bog himself—but he had to take the chance that the dog had picked up Margaret or Ella’s scent.
Surely, Margaret could not have gone more than a few feet before realizing she’d gone off the trail. He raised the lantern and peered through the rain but saw nothing that could give her shelter and entice her to come this way with darkness falling and the storm growing worse.
Annoyed with himself for letting the dog divert him, he turned around.
###
The sea had reached Margaret’s perch on the highest part of the rocky floor and lapped around her as she lay curled on her side. But Margaret felt at peace. She was not cold anymore. She had ceased to feel her body some time ago.
As she felt herself drifting away, she saw Finn holding her sweet Ella on his lap. That made her heart glad—until she saw that Ella was weeping and Finn’s face was etched with grief. When she tried to reach for them, she floated farther and farther away…
Maggie! Maggie! In her dream, she heard Finn calling to her. His voice was far away. She wanted to get up and look for him, but her body was so very heavy…
And she could not hear him anymore.
CHAPTER 31
Kidnapped by a Rogue, kindle Page 27