Chapter Twenty-Eight
With a force nearly two hundred strong, Calum, his clansmen, and Iain’s soldiers had ridden hard throughout the day, arriving on MacRae lands at nightfall. Bordered by the sea to the north and west, the keep held a strong, defensive position atop a steep cliff. Below, a beach ran along the rock wall, permitting Calum and his men shelter, out of the line of sight, to prepare their next move.
’Twas in the shadows of darkness when he, Symon, and a handful of his kinsmen scouted ahead, searching for any points of weakness they might exploit to gain entry inside. From the poor state of the MacRae keep and its crumbling, surrounding walls, it had not taken Calum long to root out a collapsed area in the eastern wall.
Mindful of the night watch, he and his men snuck through the opening, hiding themselves away in the courtyard to observe the movement of foot patrols. Soon, he devised a plan to get into the keep without raising alarms. To his surprise, the English soldiers in his company would work to their advantage.
Before dawn, he assembled half his men, breaking them into small groups of five. One set after another, they advanced on the rocky cliff, using numerous outcroppings of jagged stone as cover. Gathered along the eastern wall, they began to pick off Longford’s men. With a switch of helms and surcoats, Iain’s soldiers assumed their enemies’ roles, one watch at a time, patrolling the grounds as if naught were amiss. In no time, they effectively controlled the bailey without sounding an alarm and fewer men were slain.
Kneeling just outside of the break in the courtyard wall, Calum locked his sights on the keep’s side entrance near the kitchens. Bursts of frigid coastal air stung his face and dried the sweat on his scalp. A constant drone of waves filled his ears, but the shrill cries of gulls pierced the roar of the sea. The incessant noise bore in his brain, amplifying his agitation.
Thought after thought sifted through his mind, trying his sorely waning patience. Despite his eagerness to get inside the keep, he urged himself to withstand just a wee bit longer. One foolish misstep could endanger Arabella and Mairi—a risk he was unwilling to take. He glanced to his left where two score or more of Longford’s soldiers sat, bound and gagged. Despite a swollen eye, one prisoner speared him with a one-eyed glower.
“Well, that’s hardly gracious of you, is it?” Liam said over Calum’s shoulder. He strolled ahead and squatted in front of the trussed up guard, patting the soldier’s cheek with a hard slap. “We allowed you to live. For now. The least you could do is show a bit of gratitude.”
Heedless of their captive’s harsh glare, Liam rolled his eyes at Calum. “Thankless arse.”
In spite of the thrumming pulse in his neck, Calum grinned at his cousin. Leave it to Liam to find humor in a humorless situation. Shaking his head, he returned his gaze to the side entrance, eagerly awaiting a signal from one of Iain’s men who’d slipped into the keep sometime earlier. When the first light of day began to inch over the horizon, his nervousness increased threefold.
A heavy hand fell on his shoulder as Fraser knelt alongside him.
“What’s taking so blasted long?” the laird grunted with displeasure.
His dour gaze narrowed on the entrance. No doubt he worried for his niece’s welfare, but ’twas naught compared to the painful knot of unease lodged in Calum’s chest. Too many troubling thoughts tumbled round in his head, adding to the weight in the pit of his stomach.
What if he was too late to save his family?
He thrust the unsettling notion away and cast a quick glance at Fraser, who stroked his beard in an absent motion. Taking pity on his ally, he nudged the man’s arm. “Any moment now, old man.”
Any damned moment.
By the Saints, if he had to wait much longer, he’d go mad. Eye twitching, he ground his teeth in irritation. Growling in frustration, he shifted from knee to knee, anxious to rise from his crouch. Then he saw it—a glimmer of flame from the keep’s side entrance. Twice more the flicker gleamed like a beacon across the darkened bailey for an instant before disappearing altogether.
Heart leaping in his chest, Calum straightened and rolled his neck from shoulder to shoulder. Gripping the hilt of his sword, he met Fraser’s keen stare. “’Tis time.”
And not a moment too soon.
*
The marked click and drag of a lock slipping free rang out in the stifling silence. Arabella bolted upright from the small bed and stared at the chamber door. Her heart pounded a swift beat as she waited for Longford to stride through the entrance. When the door remained closed, she frowned in confusion. Had she mistaken the sound?
Stone scraped over stone, jarring her into action. Despite the painful ache in her head and wrist, she sprung to her feet and spun to face the sound from the wall behind her. She gaped as a section of wall beneath a molding tapestry slid open, kicking up dust in the chamber. A flush of cool, brackish air pushed into the musty room and brushed over her warm face.
Quiet footfalls shuffled from the other side of the wall, and every sore muscle in her body stiffened. She held her breath, fearful of who, or what, might enter. She barely contained her surprise when a tall, gangly youth pushed aside the tapestry and ducked to enter through the low-hung opening in the wall.
Arabella cleared her parched throat. “W-who are you?”
His dark, solemn gaze met hers and he held a finger to his lips. “Connor MacRae, my lady.” He pointed the chamber door. “We must speak softly.”
Shaggy, brown hair fell over his eyes, which he brushed aside with a sweep of his dirty hand. Cuts and bruises littered his pale face and neck. Blood stained the collar of his threadbare tunic.
After Longford locked her in the chamber, she promptly discovered any thought of escape was futile. With no window opening and the chamber door barred, she was stuck in the chamber until Longford came for her.
Thoroughly at a loss, she stared at the disheveled youth, unsure who he was or where he’d come from. She mumbled, “How did you…?”
“’Tis my home, my lady. I’m privy to its secrets.” Glancing away, he hesitated a moment before adding, “’Twas my brother who took you and your companion.”
His mumbled words sifted through her weary mind and a surge of anger replaced her confusion. Her mouth dropped open to curse his fiend of a brother.
“Wait. Please.” Moving closer, Connor lifted his hand as if to touch her, but paused and dropped his arm to his side. “Allow me to explain, please. I beg you.”
Arabella blinked at the note of desperation in his voice. His soulful eyes reflected a wealth of intelligence, understanding, and pain at odds with his young age. The longer she considered Connor’s request, the more compassion tugged at her heart. ’Twas far too simple to see her husband in the young man—thrust into circumstances not of his own doing.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “All right. Explain.”
His shouldered slumped in relief. “An Englishman came to our hall, offering a heavy purse for my clan’s aid.” His gaze moved over the chamber rather than meet hers. “I’m sure you can guess for what.”
Arabella gritted her teeth. Aye, she could.
“My brother, Aaron, did not wish to help, but my father is…was a greedy man.” Connor balled his hands into fists at his sides. “’Twas his greed that allowed Longford to murder him and seize control of our keep. Longford forced Aaron to do his bidding by holding my life over his head. My brother had no wish to harm you or your companion. In truth, Aaron has no plans to leave you here with Longford. He merely brought you here to free me from Longford’s grasp.”
The air pushed from Arabella’s lungs. By the Saints, was their no limit to Longford’s evil and deceit? What a wretched cur.
“Aaron has horses waiting for us. You and I are to meet him along the north side of the beach.”
She frowned. “But what of Longford?”
Connor forced a tight-lipped smile. “Do not fear. My brother will see to him.”
The resigned acceptance in his solemn gaze broke Arabella’s heart in two. She opened her mouth to speak, but he waved at the opening in the wall.
“We should leave now, my lady.”
Blinking away the burn of tears, she nodded and stepped forward to follow Connor into the passageway. She lingered near the wall and brushed her fingers over the break in the wall. She’d failed to notice the barely perceptible fissure in the stone in her earlier search.
“I’d no notion this was here.”
Connor snorted faintly. “’Tis the point.”
Wary of the looming darkness, she paused just inside the passageway. “Where does this lead?”
“To a cave above the beach.” His cold hand grasped hers. “Just hold on to me, my lady. I will not let any harm come to you.”
He tugged toward the darkness but she resisted. “Wait. What of Mairi?”
“Aaron’s bringing her to the beach.”
“But—”
Connor lifted his brows. “My brother would no more harm her than your husband would you.”
Her lips parted. “Oh.”
What exactly did that mean?
“Come along, my lady,” Connor urged. “We need to move before Longford arrives.”
’Twas all he had to say to get her moving.
She rushed inside the passageway and he moved behind her to pull the secret opening closed, throwing the two of them in near darkness. Undeterred, he nudged her deeper into the eerie, stone passageway. Sounds of dripping water and gusts of wind carried along the narrowed tunnel. She shivered against the chill in the briny air.
“Trust me.” Connor squeezed her hand. “All will be well, my lady. Just follow my lead, and you shall soon be free of this mess.”
She desperately hoped Connor’s words would ring true.