Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Trailing one hand along the rough stone wall to steady her shaking limbs, the other holding the candle aloft, Catriona made her way slowly along the tunnel. Under her breath, she murmured a heartfelt prayer that her little light would not go out.
The unnerving sounds of Sinclair’s men methodically scouring the building for her seemed to intensify, each resounding thud or crash or bellowed command making her heart contract. Imagining seeing Duncan kept her going.
She was making good progress when she stumbled over a large stone. Though she managed to stay upright, in the upset, the candle slipped from her fingers.
The precious little flame winked out, plunging her into utter darkness.
She froze, her breath catching, blood pounding in her ears.
She bit down hard on her bottom lip to suppress the panic threatening to burst out of her, knowing that if she started screaming she would not stop and Sinclair’s men would find her.
“Keep calm, Cat,” she whispered shakily to herself. Reaching out a hand, she breathed a small sigh of relief when it encountered the reassuring solidity of the cold stone wall. “Ye can dae this. Ye’re nearly there. Think of Duncan and Elaina and home.”
It could have been five minutes or five years before the surrounding darkness began to lighten slightly. Catriona could not tell because she had lost all sense of time. All she knew was that there finally was enough blessed light for her to make out an opening up ahead.
I’ve done it, I’ve reached the end of the tunnel!
She sent a silent prayer of thanks heavenward and quickened her pace, almost breathless with excitement to think that Duncan himself could be just a few feet away, waiting to take her home at last.
“Catriona, is that ye?”
The deep baritone whisper echoed off the walls and stopped her in her tracks, head tilted like a bird’s, listening. Up ahead, a large figure, unmistakably masculine, stepped out into the open from the shadows. Her hand flew to her mouth to stifle a gasp.
“Catriona,” the harsh whisper came again. “Are ye there?”
“Aye, Duncan, ’tis me!” With her heart feeling as though it might explode with joy, she picked up her skirts and ran towards him.
Tears came as she threw her arms around his waist and hugged him with all her might, resting her head against the broad, hard expanse of chest, longing to feel her brother’s arms about her.
Reassuring scents of wet leaves, horse, and leather filled her nostrils as she pressed her face into him, expecting him to return the embrace with equal enthusiasm.
Instead, a pair of large palms gripped her upper arms and moved her firmly backwards a few steps before releasing her.
“Braither?” she queried tremulously, peering up at the man in front of her in confusion. Something was off. In the dim light, she slowly made out his features. They were familiar all right, but they were not Duncan’s.
Her heart sank. “Malcolm? Malcolm Gordon. Is that ye?” she asked, unable to keep the naked disappointment from her voice.
“Christ, woman, keep yer voice down, will ye? Ye’ll have Sinclair’s men down on top of us in nae time,” he hissed. “Aye, ’tis me.”
“B-but what are ye daein’ here? Where’s Duncan? I thought?—”
“Duncan couldnae get here in time himsel’, he’s too far away,” Malcolm replied tersely, his voice low.
“So he asked me tae come and get ye in his place. There were rumors of Sinclair’s men sniffing around the area, so as soon as yer braither heard them he asked me tae come.
Looks like I got here just in time! Now, hurry and give me yer hand.
His men are all over the place. We need tae move fast before they find ye. ” He held out a large hand towards her.
She eyed it with suspicion, unsure whether to trust him or not. The Malcolm Gordon she recalled from younger days was rather reckless and unreliable.
His brow creased with annoyance, as if reading her thoughts, but he did not withdraw his hand.
“I’m actin’ on Duncan’s orders,” he ground out. “Ye have a clear choice, come with me or go with Sinclair. Take yer pick.”
Catriona wavered for a moment before relenting. “I suppose I have nay choice but tae trust ye,” she murmured, reluctantly placing her hand in his. It was immediately lost within his long, strong fingers warmly closing firmly around it.
A loud crash suddenly sounded somewhere behind them, echoing through the tunnels. Catriona almost jumped out of her skin.
“Och, what was that?!” she exclaimed, heart pounding.
Malcolm’s hand squeezed hers, an attempt at reassurance she supposed.
“Shhh,” he whispered softly, still as a rock next to her. In the dim light, their eyes met, and he pressed a finger to his lips, listening intently for a few moments.
There was another bang, and a loud male voice yelled, “Search below in the tunnels!”
Malcolm suddenly pressed his lips to her ear, which sent a strange shiver running up her spine.
“They’re gettin’ too close. We need tae move fast,” he whispered harshly.
The warmth vanished. Before Catriona could react, he snatched his dirk from his belt with his free hand and tightened his hold on hers with the other. “Come on, this way.”
Catriona followed with the effort of running to keep up with his long strides as he pulled her along the tunnel for several more yards.
She noticed it was growing progressively lighter as they moved forward and guessed they were nearing the exit.
Fearfully, she wondered who or what would be waiting for her there.
Freedom? Or Sinclair’s soldiers and lifetime of horror as Torcall Sinclair’s captive wife?
The growing clamor behind them indicated that Sinclair’s men were hot on their heels, but they had not so far encountered anyone.
Malcolm suddenly swerved to the right, yanking her after him down another tunnel.
Catriona looked down its length as she ran, relieved to see it was deserted as well. Luck seemed to be on their side so far.
Or perhaps the nuns’ prayers fer me are workin’.
They had not gone far down the new tunnel when men’s voices and the clang of steel echoed from the darkness ahead. Malcolm halted instantly, causing Catriona to run into his back. The leather-clad expanse was as hard and unforgiving as a barn door, leaving her winded.
“This way is clear, but that could change at any moment,” he murmured, dragging her along as if she were a rag doll, her feet barely touching the floor. “Ye must dae exactly what I tell ye if I’m tae get ye out of here in one piece as yer braither wishes, all right?” he added.
Not waiting for a response, he continued moving them with rapid stealth along the tunnel, clearly alert to the men behind them searching for her.
It grew lighter still, and Catriona could see a little more clearly. She could tell from the cold, smoke-tainted air blowing over them that they were fast approaching the exit. But loud voices and the trampling of booted feet close behind pressed on her.
Malcolm whispered, “They havenae seen us yet. With a bit more luck, we’ll get away clean.”
“God’s willing,” Catriona murmured, not reassured at all. Her doubts about his reliability as a protector had not gone away.
The neared the opening, which looked like it emerged into some bushes at the rear of the laundry. She knew the layout of the grounds well and considered breaking away from him once they were outside.
Duncan sent him tae fetch me and might be angry with me if I run. Ach, I’ve nae choice but tae trust him!
A few feet from the exit, Malcolm slowed their pace and crouched close to the wall, pulling her after him.
To her relief, he loosened her wrist from his iron grip, but the next moment, she found herself pressed back against the wall, pinned in place by a disturbingly muscular arm that stretched across her belly like a belt.
She could feel its heat penetrating her cloak, making her skin tingle.
In those tense moments of impropriety, she was more afraid of it than Sinclair’s soldiers.
Afraid to breathe, she tried to shrink away from the arm, but there was no room.
Her instinct was to shove it away, but she could not seem to move.
It felt like God had intervened when sounds of her pursuers grew louder, spurring Malcolm to action.
He removed his arm, and she let out the breath she had been holding.
He turned to her, his eyes dark pools, and whispered, “Jaysus, we need tae get out of here fast.” He grabbed her hand again. “We’ll be vulnerable outside so keep low and stick close by me. Come on!”
Malcolm pulled Catriona after him towards the opening leading outside.
At the point where some light appeared against shadow, he halted them, keeping her behind him.
He listened for a moment but heard nothing.
So, he hesitantly stuck his head out and scanned the area around the thicket of bushes where he had entered earlier.
He saw no soldiers, but the air was heavy with smoke and ash. Plumes of smoke curled into the sky. The priory was on fire. He hoped the signs of destruction would not send Catriona into hysterics. If she screamed or ran amok, the soldiers would come running.
Best tae keep her movin’.
“’Tis clear. If we get separated head tae the orchard and wait fer me. Let’s go,” he whispered over his shoulder. Without waiting for an answer, he ducked down and crept cautiously forward through the bushes, pulling her after him.
The bushes formed the border to a narrow pathway, part of a network that traversed the neatly kept priory gardens. They needed to go right and then follow the pathways, weaving through the herb beds and outbuildings until they made the perimeter.