A rush of clean air threatened to douse the candle’s flame and called her forward. She slipped into the opening and sidestepped through, noting that anyone larger than Duff wouldn’t fit. Before she stepped fully outside, she crouched and placed the stone wedge into place at the foot of the doorway to ensure she could return to her room and her need for air remained undiscovered.
Mairi straightened and turned into the night. Darkness proved the lateness of the hour, the half-moon and hundreds of twinkling stars lent light to the black. Still standing just within the protection of the false wall, she closed her eyes and breathed in a breath more deep because of its need, and then she slowly exhaled.
She lifted her lashes and, knowing her time here was short, peeked about the stonework to the battlements that ran along the Great Tower’s west wall. A guard stood watch inside each of the four corner towers and all patrolled the walkways in a rotating fashion to take up watch in the next guard’s tower. Her father believed it kept them moving and alert and each man was responsible for the other.
Even though the walkway was ten feet lower than where she stood, Mairi pressed her back to the cold stone behind her and stood still and quiet as a sentry emerged from the tower to her left and headed toward the one on her right. Fear of discovery quickened her heartbeat when the sentry paused at the centre point of the walkway where the small stone ramp joined the Great Tower to the battlements. He scanned the forest to the west and must have been pleased with what he saw, or didn’t see, for the guard continued on and finally disappeared inside the next round tower.
Through rounded lips, Mairi quietly released the breath she’d trapped in her lungs. Her shoulders lowered as she relaxed her stance and peered up into the night.
Fear of making the wrong choice closed about her heart like a tightening fist. But fear was of no help when she’d been given the gift of choice to start with, and she knew all too well that fear caused people to do the wrong thing.
Checking the walkway below was clear, she stepped around the end of the false wall and into the half-moon’s light. Standing still and wrapped in her black cloak, a refreshing yet gentle breeze played with her bound hair and discovery was of no concern. The sentries’ attention would be fixed beyond the castle walls, not on the Great Tower within them.
Mairi stared out into the summer’s night but turned her thoughts inward, to the men vying for her hand. Friendly Angus Hay, a skilled fisherman whose smile never waned. Handsome Ewan Strachan, a skilled hunter who would never give up. And finally, Ranald Barclay, a skilled horseman who brought a measure of comfort into any room he entered.
All three possessed good traits, but also aroused concerns. How did Angus cope with serious situations? Must Ewan win every encounter? Could Ranald make her feel more than comfort?
She wanted to choose the man with the best qualities, for her clan’s sake, but she also wanted more. She wanted what her father and her mother had shared. Mairi wanted love.
Heat fired in her chest. She closed her eyes and the darkness was instantly filled with the image of her protector’s face. As close as when they’d almost kissed. Close enough for her to feel his warm breath on her ear, her cheek, the corner of her mouth.
Mairi wanted Duff.
But she needed to prove to her father that she could fulfil her duty more, and Duff wasn’t one of her—
The soft scraping on stone beside her alerted her that she was no longer alone. She lifted her lashes and turned her head in the direction the noise had come from, but before she could determine who or what it was, something was pulled down over her head.
‘What—’ she cried out, but her words were stifled and cut short by the rough hand that covered her mouth. She grasped the fabric and forced it upward, but a strong arm snaked around her, preventing her from lifting the cloth off her head. Gritting her teeth, she curled her hands into fists and tried to break free. Her arms shook with the effort, but it was no use. Her captor was too strong. Dear God. What was happening? Who would do such a thing? Why?
Questions and confusion mounted, but one thought topped all the others and grew. No one knew she was out here. No one except her captor.
She couldn’t find enough air to breath. Her mind went blank, started to go black. Her limbs started to shake. No one was coming to save her.
No. Please. There must be someone that could help her.
But there was no one and there was no help. She was alone. She was going to die. Her nose stung as tears began to form behind her eyes.
For the second time in her life she believed she was going to die. The first time she’d done nothing. Only cried. She’d lived, but her mother and brother had died.
Because of her tears.
You are weak!
She was no longer a child. She was a woman grown.
You will die! Stop your tears! Do something!
She braced and stilled and willed herself to remember Duff’s instructions on defending herself. His lesson slowly returned, reminding her of what she needed to do.
She could do this. If she wanted to live, she had to.
With the memory of Duff’s commanding voice echoing in her ear, Mairi centred her weight evenly over her feet and let her upper body go limp. The arm about her loosened in surprise, just as Duff’s had when they’d practiced. She took advantage of that moment of freedom to straighten her fisted hand forward, and then drove her elbow back into her captor’s middle as fast and as hard as she could.
A small grunt sounded from behind and her arm and most of her body jarred on impact. But time was precious and her elbow had done little damage. She needed to inflict more to loosen his hold further. Still hoping surprise was on her side, she lifted her knee into a bent position and kicked backward.
Her captor’s deep growl heightened in pitch as she opened her mouth and bit down on the fingers holding her silent through the fabric.
Now!
Mairi wrenched herself totally free of her captor’s hold and ripped whatever it was that had been pulled over her head off. Two steps were all it took for her to reach the false wall’s opening. She wasted no time looking back. She must escape.
She turned into the narrow space and darted inside. She needed to close the opening. Turning, she reached into the hole, pushed the lever and … nothing. Dear God! What—
The stone wedge. She’d forgotten to remove it. She lunged forward and, crouching low, grasped the piece of stone stopping the wall from closing back into place. Clutching it in her hand, she stood and rushed back to the lever. Mairi pushed the lever, silently praying she wasn’t too late. Watching the wall slide back into position. Imagining a hand appearing around the edge of the wall and stopping its progress. She begged the wall to hurry.
Only at the sound of a soft kaboom signalling the wall had thudded securely into place, leaving the secret passage in complete darkness, did Mairi cease to pray and beg.
Then she began to shake.
Father. She needed to get to her father. She needed to tell him of the attack. She wanted Duff to hold her. To make her feel safe.
She needed light. But the breeze must have extinguished the candle. Lifting her trembling hands to the wall, she slid her palms over roughened stone in search of the shelf with the flint and candle. She found both and struck the flint, but there was no power in her efforts, no control in her actions. Her fingers shook so violently the flint tumbled from her grasp and was swallowed up by the consuming dark.
Desperation welled up inside her chest like a rising tide. Every breath became a pant and a ball of fear lodged in her throat.
‘Ffffffaaattthherr.’ But her call for her father emerged like the chattering teeth of a child lost in a snowstorm. Her father would never hear her. No one would hear her.
Oh God!
Tears threatened yet again, but using her mounting anger at her helplessness, again she stopped them. No one was coming to aid her. If she wanted to get to her father, she had to get there herself.
S
he lifted one quaking hand to the wall and took a step. But her legs were no longer the solid flesh and bone she’d always depended on. They’d become like water and she suddenly doubted they could hold her upright. But they had to. They must. She forced another step and her other leg threatened to give way. But it held and Mairi forced her mind to focus on each step rather than how unreliable her legs had become.
It was slow going and the surrounding darkness didn’t help. Another step and the ground beneath her shaking foot wasn’t there. She fell to her knees, plunging forward, the chilled and gritty stone floor biting into her palms, her hands the only things saving her from tumbling headlong down into the secret passage.
She’d reached the stairs. Her next destination was the alcove to her father’s chamber. Rising, she brushed off her hands and skinned knees, held her palm open and slowly sidestepped to her right. Legs wobbling, her hand touched solid stone. Relief almost sent her to her knees once more, but her greater goal to reach the alcove gave her legs the strength to hold her and to move on.
Each step felt like she was descending into a ravine instead of stepping down a single sandstone brick, her fingers scraping the stone, hoping, wishing, wanting them to fall into the empty space of the entrance into the alcove that lead into her father’s chamber. Every giant step was bringing her closer. It couldn’t be much further now.
Her hand suddenly discovered open air and her greatest desire turned to pure joy. She’d made it.
Mairi rounded the corner and found the wall once again. One palm scraping over the roughened stone, she held her other out before her, searching for the barrier that shielded the entrance from view. Her hand connected with the heavy tapestry and relief squeezed her heart.
She pushed against the barrier, forcing it inward. Glimpses of faint light from within the room broke through into the passage’s darkness. Voices joined the sound of her rasping breaths and her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Hearing her father’s voice caused a ball of emotion to form and lodge in her throat. She pushed harder against the tapestry, straining with the effort, knowing her father was near.
‘Father,’ she called, but it emerged as more of a mewling sound than a word and the conversation within never faltered. They hadn’t heard her. Shifting to one side, she searched for the tapestry’s edge and found the opening. The barrier gave way much more easily and she was able to push her arms through, then her head and shoulders.
She looked up and found two drawn swords pointing in her direction. One belonged to her father, the other her personal guard. The sight of the blades pointed at her sent the blood draining from her face. White dots like twinkling stars filled her head.
‘Mairi?’ Her father said. ‘What in God’s name are you doing?’
‘Sheath your sword, Laird,’ Duff said.
Hearing their voices doubled the size of the ball in her throat. She’d made it. She wanted to tell them of the attack, but all she said was, ‘help’.
A moment later, the weight of the tapestry against her was gone and her father’s arms were securely around her. Mairi squeezed him tight, to convince herself she was safe, and then for all the years she’d longed to have him hold her.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Duff released the heavy tapestry back into place and turned to where Alastair Gordon stood holding his daughter, his knuckles white, his eyes tightly closed. Since he’d arrived at Gordon Castle, Duff had witnessed only small, stilted signs of affection between the laird and his daughter, be they either physical or spoken. But fear often made people do things they wouldn’t normally do, or things they wanted to do, but were too afraid.
‘Ah, Mairi. You gave Duff and I a fright.’
Duff understood that Alastair’s words were meant to ease Mairi’s obvious fear, but the weathered hand stroking his daughter’s hair shook between every stroke. ‘And something has frightened you.’ Alastair released a long, slow breath. ‘What were you doing in the secret passage?’
Mairi lifted her head but stayed in her father’s arms. ‘I wanted some air and thought … I thought I’d be safe on the battlements alone.’ She paused as if gathering strength. ‘Someone attacked me.’
Duff’s stomach clenched and his gaze collided with Alastair’s. Guilt burned in the pit of his gut. Duff was her protector and he’d failed.
Alastair drew another slow breath. ‘Do you know who it was?’ he asked through clenched teeth.
‘Nae,’ Mairi said with a small shake of her head. ‘They put something over my head and covered my mouth. I couldn’t see anything or call for help.’ She paused and Duff’s hands curled into fists. ‘When I did break free I didn’t look back. I was too … I didn’t look back.’
‘Christ!’ Anger reverberated about the single word. ‘You did well to escape, Mairi.’
‘I … I worry I didn’t close the false wall opening correctly. I—’
‘You likely did, but Duff will make certain,’ Alastair said, giving Duff a single nod. ‘Take one of the lit candles. You’ll need it.’
Duff lifted a glowing taper from the table. Though nothing could forgive his failure, it felt good to be doing something. He checked the sword he’d sheathed at his back and the dagger at his waist before lifting the tapestry to reveal the secret passage behind. With a last glance and a brisk nod for the Gordon laird, Duff stepped through and let the cover drop back into place.
Immediate darkness took hold until Duff held aloft the candle and the small flickering flame settled and washed the inner stonework in weak light. Chill air swirled about in the shadows and every movement, every small noise, doubled.
Hand on dagger, Duff peered to where the stone steps disappeared downward into the black void. He turned, looked upward and started up the stairs. Gritty dust from crumbling sandstone scraped beneath his booted feet and echoed off the walls. Naught moved, and Duff’s senses told him he was alone.
He reached a landing above and searched the area. A candle, an iron holder, a piece of flint and a wedge of stone all lay on the stone floor, all dropped and abandoned by Mairi in her haste, her fear.
The muscles across his shoulders drew taught, his stomach clenched. He hoped to find the man who’d attacked Mairi, for then he could punish him and assuage his own guilt for not keeping her safe.
Duff left the items where they were for now and searched the dusty floor for footprints. There was only one small set that appeared to disappear in one direction through the wall and reappear heading back the opposite way.
He placed the candle he held onto the shelf. He felt no change in the air, which there would be if air was coming in from outside, and after searching for the false wall Mairi had mentioned, he was relieved to find no obvious opening. Nor could he tell exactly which part of the wall opened out onto the battlements.
Admiration for Mairi swelled inside his chest. Even in her haste and fear, she had managed to securely seal the opening, ensuring the attacker hadn’t penetrated Gordon walls. At least not via the secret passage.
But there were other ways into the castle and, without knowing who her attacker was, how was he to keep her safe? How was he to protect her when he was leaving in the morning?
Duff gathered the fallen items and returned them to the shelf. He couldn’t leave. He’d just have to tell Alastair he’d stay until they found and caught the man who dared to attack his daughter. Then she’d be free to choose the man she wanted to wed and her safety would be her husband’s responsibility.
He retrieved his candle and descended the stairway. But how would he keep her safe until then? Would Alastair ask him to continue protecting her when he’d already failed once?
‘Laird, it is I, Duff,’ he said, in warning to the laird and his daughter as he pushed the tapestry inward and stepped into the chamber.
Alastair stopped placing items into a leather satchel at the large table, looked up and said, ‘What did you find?’
Mairi sat in one of the two chairs that seemed to swallow her whole. She was nursin
g a goblet between her hands. She looked up at Duff expectantly.
‘The wall was sealed into place,’ he said looking directly at Mairi. She closed her eyes and lowered her head momentarily, before meeting his gaze once more. Her relief was as obvious as her beauty. ‘And I found nae footprints aside from Mairi’s.’
‘You did well, lass,’ Alastair said.
‘Aye.’ Duff agreed.
‘I did not.’ She peered down into her cup and shook her head. ‘I put myself and others in danger.’
‘This is my castle, your home, Mairi, and you should be free to go wherever you want to go.’ Alastair put one last item into the bag and strode toward her. ‘Yet someone has made you fearful within these walls and I will not rest until the one responsible is caught. And punished.’
Alastair placed the bag beside Mairi’s chair and looked at Duff. ‘But to succeed, I must ask for your help, Duff.’
‘I have failed you once, Laird Gordon.’ The words burned Duff’s throat. ‘Are you certain you still want my help now?’
‘How were you to defend me when I wasn’t where I was supposed to be?’ Mairi’s defence surprised him.
‘It is a protector’s duty to know where their charge is at all times.’ Duff didn’t need to be defended, especially not by the one he’d failed to protect.
‘I dragged you away from your post, so I am also at fault,’ Alastair interrupted. ‘You can both make up for your failings by doing what I ask of you now.’
Duff looked at the laird. ‘What would you have me do?’
‘I have nae doubt in your ability to keep Mairi safe, but I want more.’ Alastair’s anger was obvious in his tone. ‘I want to catch whoever attacked my daughter, and the only way I see this happening is to have the bastard responsible believe he will have another chance.’
Duff’s fingers curled into his palms and his gut churned at the thought of the culprit being in the same castle as Mairi, let alone near enough to attack her again.
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