Chapter 17
The body under Drake squirmed, a slender bit of nothing he might easily crush. Drake had knocked into them with enough force to send them both sliding over the damp, earthen floor of the dungeon.
His opponent managed to free an arm and slammed a fist into his jaw. The hit was one of desperation but not nearly strong enough to do much damage. Even still, the person fought with determination, their body wriggling with such vigor, it was nearly impossible for Drake to hold them in place.
It took considerable effort to get his body locked over the person and to grasp their skinny wrists in his hands. A knee came up at that point, jerking into Drake’s crotch. He ground out a low groan and released his hold for a brief moment.
That was all the other person needed. They twisted away from Drake and attempted to dart away once more. Except Drake was too fast. He reached out in a final effort to capture the fleeing person, catching their ankle, and yanking it.
His opponent crashed to the floor and kicked at him, preventing him from holding their foot. Drake threw the full force of his body atop them to keep the person from running away once more.
The “oof” that emerged from the figure beneath him was decidedly feminine.
He froze.
The woman writhed beneath him, trying to free herself.
All at once, he knew exactly who this woman was, whose deft skills would allow her to drift unnoticed through the castle for over a day, who would fight back with such tenacity, who would not reveal her gender upfront in a bid to allow herself to be treated softer for it. What he didn’t know, though, was why.
He folded his hands around hers, recalling how only hours ago, they had learned the shape of the body he now had pinned under him. “Greer.”
The woman stopped moving, and her breath caught with surprise. “Drake?”
His name was a whisper in the darkness, filled with shock and horror.
He eased off her and made his way toward the wall where the outline of a sconce showed against the stonework.
Using a flint from the pouch at his belt, he lit the rush nip, setting a golden light flickering through the cavernous space.
It was as he imagined the dark space in his mind—an open room with a barred door on one end that led down a corridor of cells.
“What are ye doing here?” he demanded.
Greer looked through the barred door to the row of cells. “Please let me go. I’m the only person who can save him.”
Him.
Something dug into Drake’s chest. Was there another man Greer cared for?
Only then did it occur to Drake that he had never asked her if there was anyone else.
This could be like Anice and James all over again, leaving his heart to crumple under the burden of unrequited love. Except this time would be far, far worse, as the extent of his emotions for Greer ran much deeper than those that he’d had for Anice.
Shouting was discernible from beyond the other side of the bars.
Greer grabbed Drake’s arm, her grip like a vice. “We canna be here.”
“Of course, we can,” he protested. “I’m with the guards.”
“No’ with this prisoner. He’s different.”
“The light is coming from beyond the gate,” someone shouted amid the thunder of footsteps.
In a huff, Greer blew out the light and tugged Drake toward the stairs.
“Ye always wanted my trust,” she hissed. “I’m prepared to give it to ye fully, but I am asking for ye to do the same in return. We have to leave now.”
Keys rattled in the barred door. The guards were coming.
Logic told Drake he ought to stay where he was, but something else entirely pulled at his heart and dragged his feet up the stairs. Greer continued to pull at him, not only up the stairs but into the dimly lit hall that she navigated with surprising ease as if she’d done it before.
At last, they stopped before a set of doors she pushed through. The harsh scent of lye soap clung in the air, and large, empty barrels filled the open space, highlighted by a sliver of moonlight. The laundry.
Before he could ask any questions, she hauled him to the back of the room and ducked behind a barrel blanketed by shadows, indicating he should do likewise. The slam of heavy feet sounded just outside the door. Drake ducked low, and the door flew open, bathing the room in light.
“No’ in here,” a gruff voice called out.
The door slammed closed, and darkness fell over everything once more. Ire rose in Drake, not only for the guards’ ineffective search—for he and Greer should have been caught—but also the risk he had put himself in for her.
In that one moment, he might have sacrificed everything to help her. To help her lover if that was who this “him” was.
The thought made his insides clench.
He ought to have known better than to trust her, than to want this, than to have opened his heart again to the possibility of love, a future.
He frowned at her. “What is the meaning of all this?”
She looked over the barrel once more, confirming no one was in the room with them before putting her back to the curved wooden slats.
Moonlight trickled in around the outline of shutters against the far wall and filtered into the room. It was in that bit of silver-white light that her expression took on a look of chagrin. “I havena been entirely honest with ye.”
Drake’s stomach churned with dread, and his heart beat so loud, even the lackluster guards would surely hear it thrumming from behind the door. “What havena ye been honest about?” he asked through numb lips.
“What I needed the coin for,” she said. “Why I left ye the other night, why I couldna reply to yer marriage proposal.” The last part was delivered so softly, it was nearly inaudible.
“Ye love him.” Drake left it as a statement, not wanting her to answer for fear that it might forever wound his heart in a way that it would never recover.
Regardless of wishing she wouldn’t answer, she did. “Aye, of course I do.”
Greer’s mind worked so fast that she could scarcely keep up. Part of it was due to how very nearly they’d been caught. Another part was the crippling fear of what would happen to Mac if she couldn’t get to him. And then there was the fierce expression on Drake’s face…
“I need yer help,” she said gently. “My brother has seen two summers less than Bean. If I dinna get him out of the dungeon tonight, tomorrow, he…” Her words trailed off, unable to finish the grim reality little Mac would soon face.
A confused crinkle across Drake’s brow smoothed. “Yer brother?”
“Aye, ’tis why I needed the fifty marks.” She pulled the purse from her pocket and handed it back to him. “Less one for a bribe that dinna do anything more than give me dire news.”
Drake slowly accepted the purse. The coins clinked against one another inside and echoed off the stone walls around them. “I need to know everything.”
Everything…did they even have that kind of time?
With her gaze constantly flicking toward the closed doors, she explained as quickly as she could how she’d found the dead noblewoman and Mac missing, as well as how the guard had offered to help get him free for fifty marks and how she’d gone first to the king for help, but how she’d been refused an audience.
She even admitted to her plan to steal on the journey back to pay off the guard.
“I found the guard again,” Greer said. “But he told me there were too many others around Mac, and it would be impossible to free him before morning when…when they…” Her throat closed around what she meant to say.
“When they?” Drake lifted his brows.
Greer dragged in a shuddering breath. “They’re going to hang him, Drake.” All at once, the terror at what her younger brother faced swept over her, as well as how overwhelmingly helpless she was to save him. Hot tears streamed down her face.
In an instant, Drake was there, drawing her into the comfort of his strong, warm arms. She sagged against him, and the tears flowed before she could stop them.
It was an indulgence she couldn’t spare time for, and within several seconds, she pushed away and wiped at her eyes.
“Why dinna ye tell me any of this before?” Drake asked.
She shook her head. “I was worried ye’d get me to confess who was accepting the bribe, and I would lose the opportunity to rescue Mac. That man was my only hope.”
Drake ran his hand down her cheek, his gaze so tender it made fresh tears well in her eyes. “I’m going to help ye. Put yer hope in me, aye?”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Ye are?”
“I am.” Drake hesitated. “He knows who killed the noblewoman, Lady Eileen.”
It was a statement, not a question, and additional information she hadn’t known before—a name.
Greer nodded. “Aye, I believe that’s why he’s been placed in the dungeon. The guard I spoke to said that the earl had finally made a decision on what to do with Mac this afternoon.”
The corners of Drake’s mouth flinched.
Unease prickled down her back. “What is it?”
“Ye’ve been honest with me. Now I need to do the same with ye.
” Several heavy steps passed by the door, and they both ducked into the shadows.
When nothing came of it, he continued in a whisper, “The real reason I’ve been sent here, and what hinges on me becoming a knight, is discovering how she died.
Lady Eileen’s da, Lord Androll, doesna believe her death was an accident and suspects foul play.
I’ve been ordered to uncover who wanted her dead. ”
“And ye’ve been asking questions today,” Greer surmised.
“I thought I was subtle.” Drake lifted a shoulder casually. “I’ve no’ ever had to find a killer before. I’m a warrior, no’ a constable.”
“Lord Calver must know ye’re looking for him.
” The tension that had bled from Greer’s shoulders knotted back up once more.
“If he does and ye go down to the dungeon right now, they’re no’ going to be honest with ye, Drake.
Lord Calver wants Mac dead so his secrets are buried along with Lady Eileen and my brother. ”
A muscle worked in Drake’s jaw. “Ye’re right. Give me a moment to think. We need a plan.”
“We do,” she agreed. “But no’ an honest one.”
Drake cocked his head, his immediate distaste for her suggestion apparent before she could even divulge her idea.
“Arrest me.” She put her wrists out in supplication. “Take me to the dungeon with a dagger hidden in my skirts.”
“And how will ye escape with only a dagger?”
“Tell the guards they can do what they want with me.”
He balked in horror.
“As soon as they open the cell door, I’ll attack them, but so will ye,” she continued.
“Then we can free Mac and make our way through the castle with ye leading the way to ensure the path is clear. We travel to the king with Mac and have him bear witness as to what happened that day. By the time Lord Calver can dream of catching us, he will be the one in the snare, no’ us. ”
“I dinna like it,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Do ye have a better idea that is more honorable?” She folded her arms over her chest.
His gaze focused on the back wall for a moment, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Nay.”
“Can ye lie?” she asked.
He smirked. “No’ convincingly.”
“Ye’ll need to.” She stretched a hand toward him. “For me.”
He enveloped her in his arms once more, tender in a way that made her want to sigh and rest her head against his powerful chest. “I dinna want ye to get hurt.”
“I willna get hurt,” she promised. “This is the only chance for us to save him. Otherwise, tomorrow morning…”
Drake nodded in solemn understanding.
Tomorrow morning would be too late. They had only this one night to succeed, or Mac would be put to death.