“Do you have the coin?” Aisling reached out to trail her fingers down the front of Errol’s shirt.
Errol shook his head as he captured Aisling’s hand with his and pulled her closer to plant a kiss on her lips. “No, but the laird’s wife is deep in mourning and it will be an easy job to skim money off of the top of the estate funds. Trust me, now that the laird is gone, she will be none the wiser.”
Aisling pushed him away and frowned. “You didn’t tell me you planned to kill the laird. I just thought you were going to poison him so he would be incapacitated for a long time.”
Errol shrugged as if it made no difference to him. “Perhaps I used too much poison, but it can’t be helped. The laird is gone and good riddance to him. I never could stand him much, anyway.” An evil grin lit his face. “This might work out even better. That silly little woman of Gerard’s will take the fall for the laird’s death and the lady, deep in mourning for her husband, will turn over the running of the castle to me.”
He laughed. “I can skim money off of the top of the castle funds and it won’t be noticed for a long time, if ever.” Delighted with his plan, he leaned forward and gave Aisling another kiss. “Before long, you and I will have enough money so that we can leave this place and live in luxury for the rest of our days.”
Aisling sniffled. “I’m going to miss the laird,” she whispered. “He was always kind to me.”
“That fool,” Errol scoffed, raking a hand through his greasy hair. “He never should have been laird in the first place. I was the first born son, not him”
Aisling took a step away from him. “You are talking nonsense. You are not a member of the laird’s family.”
The constable’s eyes narrowed. “Aye, but I am. The laird’s father is my father as well. We might have different mothers, but I was first in line to receive the title.” His eyes glittered with hatred. “If the old laird had acknowledged me as his son, my life would have been vastly different.”
He gave a short laugh. “In my eyes, the current laird got exactly what was coming to him.”
Isabella backed out of the bed chamber and ran down the corridor. When she reached the corner, she turned, and ducked out of sight. Behind her, she could hear the bedchamber door opening.
“Did you hear something?” the constable’s voice echoed down the hallway.
“It is just your imagination playing tricks on you,” the governess replied.
Isabella began to run again as the sound of footsteps got steadily closer. She tried door after door along the long corridor, but all of them were locked. With her heart in her throat, she raced toward the end where her bedchamber was located. She reached it and turned, looking back down the long hallway. The constable and the governess had just turned the corner. They stopped, looking shocked to see her.
The constable resumed walking, his pace quickening with every step. Anger flushed his face and there was a gleam in his eyes.
Isabella shut the door behind her and locked it from within. She shrank back against the far wall as a knock sounded on the door.
“Isabella?” the constable called. “I would like to have a word with you.”
Isabella’s only response was to push the bedside table so that it blocked the door.
The constable’s knocks became louder, more insistent. “Open this door right now! If you don’t, I will be forced to tell the Captain of the Guard that I caught you sneaking around.”
“Errol? That is enough!” The governess’s voice drifted through the closed door. “Do you want to draw the attention of the entire household? Who knows how much she heard. What if she tells what we were discussing in the laird’s bedchamber?”
“Aye, you’re right, lass,” the constable answered, his voice muffled. “If I have my way, she will swing from the tallest tree. Before long, she will be out of our hair and we can get on with our plans.”
Isabella knew she needed to leave the castle. If she stayed here, her life would be in danger. Even though Eva and Gerard both believed her to be innocent in Rowan’s death, the majority of the castle’s inhabitants did not, and she knew she needed to get as far away from here as possible.
Chapter
Fifteen
The moon was climbing into the sky when Isabella crossed her bedchamber to look out the window for the last time. Its silvery light sparkled off of the water of the lake and lit the surrounding landscape. Most nights, she would have taken the time to admire its beauty, but tonight there was no time. She needed to flee. Already there were murmurings throughout the castle. A growing unease about the way she had been treated since the laird’s death, more like a guest and less like a prisoner.
A couple of figures walked by the lake. She squinted to make out their identities and was shocked to see the constable and the governess in a heated conversation. Their voices floated up to her on the breeze, but even though she strained to make out their words, they remained muted and garbled.
Isabella gasped as she saw the constable’s hands move upward to wrap around the young woman’s neck. The governess struggled and fought, clawing at his hands in a desperate attempt to make them loosen, to allow her the air she needed to survive.
In a few minutes, it was over. The young woman slumped to the ground and the constable, ever so casually, rolled her body into the lake where it floated face down.
As if he sensed he was being watched, he looked up at Isabella’s window, his gaze zeroing in on her in the dark.
Isabella shrank back from the window, her heart beating wildly in her chest. She quickly gathered what few belongings she had and rushed to the far wall. Drawing back the heavy tapestry that hung there, she felt along the stones until she found the one that moved. She pressed on it and a panel swung inward to reveal a door. Steep steps led down into an inky darkness.
She had found the secret passageway quite by accident. During her time imprisoned in her bedchamber, she had spent hours studying the colorful tapestries that adorned the walls. One afternoon, she had noticed that one of the tapestries on an interior wall was billowing slightly outward as if moved by a draft. She had lifted the tapestry and peered behind it. The stones had been covered in cobwebs, evidence that the tapestry hadn’t been moved in some time.
She had felt along the wall in search of the source of the draft. Her fingers had stopped on one stone that had appeared different than the others. It had wobbled slightly, as if it was not securely in place and then, much to her surprise, a section of the wall had moved inward to reveal an opening.
Unsure of where the stairs might lead, but knowing she couldn’t remain in her bedchamber waiting for someone to arrive to take her to her doom, Isabella grabbed a lit candle off of the bedside table and stepped onto the first step leading down into the darkness.
She hesitated, looking behind her, but the heavy tapestry had fallen back in place, obscuring the opening. If someone were to step inside the bedchamber, they would have to look closely to detect the hidden passageway.
Isabella hesitated as she thought about Gerard. He would be hurt, of that she was certain, but she prayed that he would understand. She couldn’t stay here. Not when she was being accused of killing the laird. A crime that was punishable by death.
She placed her hand on her stomach and the growing child within. Gerard would never know he was to be a father. Would never see their child take its first steps.
Isabella sighed as she wiped away a tear. Perhaps someday, she and Gerard would meet again, but she quickly dismissed the thought. Theirs was a love that was never meant to be. It had survived for a brief time, but it had been doomed from the start. She and the child would manage just fine without him.
The dim light from the candle flickered on the narrow steps and walls of the passageway, leading down into a darkness that had no end. Her slipper shod feet hesitated on the first step.
Isabella took a deep breath and plunged into the darkness, following the steps down as they led to the first floor of the castle, then
lower. The stones on the walls grew damp to the touch and she had to be careful of her footing on the slick steps. She could hear water dripping far off in the distance and knew that the passage must end somewhere near the lake. She just hoped that the constable wouldn’t be waiting for her.
Several minutes ticked by before she reached the end and she stopped in front of a door. Silvery moonlight could be seen through cracks and she reached to open it, but was stopped by a hand on her arm.
Heart pounding, Isabella turned, expecting to see the constable and his leering face, but instead found Gerard frowning down at her.
“Where do you think you are going, lass?” he growled.
“I have to leave,” she said, her heart beat wildly as she tugged on her arm, but he only tightened his grip. “Please, Gerard,” she pleaded. “I can’t stay here.”
“Aye,” he agreed, “they have discovered that you are missing and are searching the castle for you. It won’t be long before they find the passage.” He pulled her to the right, down a dark passageway that she hadn’t noticed.
“Where are we going?” Isabella whispered, as they left the doorway and freedom behind.
“There is more than one way out,” he replied. “But we need to be quick. This escape route may have been long forgotten, but someone is bound to remember of its existence. Rowan and I played here as children, but we weren’t the only ones.”
“Gerard?”
“Aye,” he said, as he pulled her along.
“The constable and the governess are the ones who killed the laird.”
He stopped then and stared down at her. “How do you know this?”
“I overheard them speaking.”
Gerard arched a brow. “They were talking about killing the laird outside your bedchamber?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “The guards forgot to lock the bedroom door when they brought me back from the funeral. I overheard the constable and the governess speaking in the laird’s bedchamber.”
Gerard’s brow furrowed. “That doesn’t make sense. The constable was Rowan’s right hand man. He trusted him and considered him a friend. Why would the constable wish to do Rowan harm?”
“Because he wasn’t just the constable,” Isabella said evenly, but the laird’s half-brother. The constable felt the money and the title should have been his.”
Gerard’s expression darkened. “That bloody bastard,” he growled. “If he had only come to Rowan and explained, I’m certain Rowan would have given him money. Family was important to Rowan and he always took care of his own.”
“He was important to you, wasn’t he?”
“Aye, lass.” Gerard sighed. “He was. Rowan was like a brother to me.”
A noise from above drew their attention and Gerard began to run, dragging her behind him. Fear snaked down Isabella’s spine. She could hear noises in the passage behind them and knew that the stairs had been discovered.
“Gerard, they’re coming,” she whispered, as panic welled up inside of her. She could practically feel the weight of the hangman’s noosed as it rested on her shoulders and knew if they were discovered, she wouldn’t live to see the sun rise.
As a response, he increased his pace. “We need to hurry, lass,” he growled. “I shudder to think what will happen if they find you.”
“But you are the Captain of the Guard,” she huffed, desperately trying to catch her breath as they stopped in front of another door.
“Aye,” Gerard said, as he stared down at her, his expression unreadable. “But I am only one man. I will defend you until my dying breath, but I can’t hold off a mob single handedly. These people lust for blood. Your blood. That is why,” he said, as he opened the door, revealing the shadowed landscape beyond, “we need to flee.”
Isabella followed him out of the passage and breathed in the cold night air. The passage had opened up on the side of the castle away from the lake. A line of trees stood a short distance away, but they would have to be quick to reach the safety they offered without being detected.
Gerard stopped, listening for any sign of movement. He leaned close to Isabella, so close she could feel his breath fanning her cheek. “When I say run,” he whispered. “Run for the trees and don’t look back.” He grasped her chin in a large hand and tilted her face up to his. “Promise me, Bella, no matter what you hear, you won’t look back.”
“I promise,” she whispered, even though she knew she couldn’t leave him. Wouldn’t leave him, even if it meant she had to give up her life, at least she would die next to him.
But, one stern look from Gerard, and her shoulders sagged. She knew she had no choice, but to obey him. “Aye, I will flee.”
Gerard’s eyes glittered with an emotion she couldn’t identify. “You, lass, are like a storm cloud,” he growled. “Entirely unpredictable.” He leaned down and placed a quick kiss on her lips before pulling away.
“Run, Bella,” he whispered fiercely, giving her a shove toward the trees and darkness beyond. “Run as if your very life depends upon it.”
He didn’t have to tell her twice. Isabella hiked up her skirts and ran. Behind her, she could hear shouts from the guards atop the wall and could have sworn she heard the whine of an arrow as it zinged passed her, but true to her word, she did not stop.
She reached the grove of trees, shaking and out of breath and turned to find herself very much alone. The expanse of land stretched out before her, bathed in moonlight, but there was no figure running to meet her.
With a heavy heart and tears in her eyes, Isabella turned and melted into the darkness.
Chapter
Sixteen
All night she walked, trying to put as much distance as she could between herself and the castle. The sounds of the forest were all around her and even though she had grown up in the dense woodland, she knew that it could be dangerous at nighttime when wild animals came out to hunt their prey.
Isabella listened for sounds of men pursuing her, but other than the animals, she was very much alone. She had heard the soldiers in the garrison talk about fairies and witches that lived in the forest. Beings who only came out at night to harm travelers who dared to enter their territory after dark.
Even though these men were strong and most had seen battle, not a one of them wished to encounter the mystical beings. Isabella knew that they would not step foot into the forest while it was dark, but once the sun crested over the hill, the hunt would be on and it would be best if she were far away.
She stopped to rest beside a large oak tree and jumped when a footstep crunched in the fallen leaves behind her. She picked up her skirts and prepared to flee again, but a hand closed around her arm.
“Bella,” Gerard rasped.
Isabella turned and sagged against him in relief, but stepped back when he grunted in pain. He stood, clutching his right shoulder. The broken shaft of an arrow could be seen through his fingers and blood oozed from the wound, dampening his shirt.
“You’re hurt.” Isabella blinked back tears. Now was not the time to get upset. Gerard needed her help before he lost too much blood. “We need to get the arrowhead out of your shoulder before infection sets in.”
Gerard swayed slightly on his feet. “There is no time. Daylight is only hours away and soon they will be searching for you.” His feverish gaze met hers. “They won’t stop until they find you, Bella. Rowan was too well loved for them to let the person they believe to be his killer go unpunished.”
“Eva won’t let them hurt me.” But even as she said the words, an image of the lady of the castle rose up in front of her and she knew that the laird’s wife would be too consumed with grief to be much help.
“Eva won’t have a say in it if they catch us, lass,” Gerard said, as he resumed walking and motioned for her to follow him. “They won’t take you back to the castle, but string you up from the nearest tree. I’m sure they won’t hesitate to hang me next to you for helping you escape.”
Isabella gasped as she hurrie
d to keep up with his long strides. “But these are your men! Surely they must be loyal to you.”
“They are the laird’s men,” he corrected with a sigh. “And as such, they are loyal to the core. I will be viewed as a traitor.”
They lapsed into silence as they walked, skirting fallen logs and large rocks. Soon, weak sunshine filtered through the bare branches of the trees and an unspoken message passed between them. They picked up their pace, knowing without a doubt, the soldiers would be hot on their heels.
It was midday when they stopped again next to a brook, its water cold and swiftly flowing. It had been snowing all morning. Soft flakes drifted down around them to cover the ground. Gerard bent on one knee in the freshly fallen snow. Leaning forward, he cupped his hands and brought the water to his mouth for a drink.
He gestured for her to do the same. “Drink now, lass. Our journey is a long one and I don’t know when we will have the opportunity again.”
Isabella wished for a container in which to carry water with them, but her trip hadn’t been well thought out and she had nothing with her that would serve the purpose. She crouched down to do Gerard’s bidding and moaned as the cold water soothed her parched throat.
The snow was tapering off now, but a strong wind had taken its place. It whipped through the forest, snaking around tree trunks and causing the bare branches to clatter over their heads.
Isabella turned to Rowan and noticed he was pale. He clutched his wounded shoulder as he stayed on bended knee. His head bent toward the ground. She reached for him. “We need to tend to that shoulder before it gets any worse.
Gerard protested feebly, but didn’t stop her when she eased his shirt aside to a get a closer look at the wound. Her breath caught when she saw the broken arrow shaft imbedded in his skin. The skin was puckered and an angry red and she knew infection had already set in.
“We need to get the arrow out,” she said calmly, even though her heart raced. Men had died from lesser wounds and she worked quickly to make sure Gerard didn’t join them.
Loving A Highlander Page 13