Highland Jewel (Highland Heroes #1)

Chapter 28

Evil! Rose felt it! Tasted it! So near. Coming closer, suffocating her! She tried to run, to escape, but darkness held her immobile.

"No!" she whimpered, lifting an arm to ward off death, and suddenly the blackness of sleep was swept away.

It was a dream! She sat bolt upright, breathing hard and staring frantically past the here and now to the shadowed world still visible in her mind.

Danger! It was still there, still approaching, but suddenly the focus had shifted so that she seemed to look down at the scene from above. There was a velvet-draped bed with a still figure in its center, but it was not she.

"Father." She said the word aloud as goose bumps coursed over her. She was shaken by the intensity of the premonition as she yet gazed at the still form on the bed. It was Ian, deep in sleep, and danger was very near.

She must go to him! Save him!

Her hands trembled as she pulled a gown over her head. Pain echoed through her chest, but she laced up the garment and grabbed a plaid from the bed. Glancing momentarily at the door, Rose shifted her gaze to the window.

Silken was there, standing on the wide stone ledge, watching and waiting. Of course. She could not go through the door for Ranald slept on the far side and was sure to waken if she passed that way. He would call Leith, and then all would be lost, for Leith would not allow her departure. Nay. He would not allow her to leave the castle, much less go to MacAulay Hold, and she must go.

The stone window ledge felt cool against her bare feet. Some five yards below, two soldiers stood together, speaking Gaelic and laughing.

Her toes fit easily into the niches between the stones. Her fingers found ready holds. It was not a simple task to scale the wall directly behind the soldiers' backs, but neither was it impossible, for she had practiced much the same thing at St. Mary's Abbey.

Silken waited until Rose squatted against the moon-shadowed wall, and then he too descended, jumping from window ledge to a lower window ledge until he stood some forty feet off to the guards' left.

Rose held her breath as the wildcat turned. Moonlight glistened in his golden eyes. Their gazes caught, transferring thoughts, and then he shifted his attention to the soldiers. The sound that issued from his throat was low and menacing, but loud enough to startle the men from their talk.

Yanking out their claymores, the two pivoted toward Silken.

Quiet as the night, Rose slipped through the shadows toward the stable, knowing Silken would easily leave the two men behind.

No soldiers slept inside the barn tonight for it was more comfortable out in the gentle breeze. Maise nickered from her stall, and Rose shushed her, lifting a hand to stroke her velvety neck. A bridle hung from a peg nearby. Rose slipped the bit between the mare's teeth and swung the door wide.

In a moment Maise was in the aisle, her hoofbeats muffled on the straw-strewn floor.

Outside, the breeze was fresh. The mare pricked her ears, watching as Silken approached, but at a word from Rose, she relaxed.

They were at Glen Creag's stone wall in a matter of minutes. It loomed dark and tall.

A movement! Shadowed and silent! Fear stabbed Rose with sharp spurs. The shadow shifted, swelled.

"Me lady!" Hannah gasped, barely visible in the lee of the towering wall. "Ye shouldna be out of bed. What be ye doing here so late at night?"

Rose swallowed a lump of fear and tried to soothe her nerves. "I might ask the same of you," she said quietly, noticing another shifting shadow behind the woman.

"I... " Hannah moved a nervous step backward. "I meant na harm, me lady."

Rose tightened her grip on the reins, glancing furtively about her. She was delaying too long, risking discovery with the sound of their voices. “I too mean no harm," she whispered. "Please, Hannah, let this be our secret. Just between us two."

"But Lady Fiona." Hannah came closer, and a frail moonbeam fell across her worried features and chestnut hair. "Where do ye go?"

"Please do not ask," begged Rose "For I must not say."

"Me lady, ye canna leave these grounds alone. “'Twould be unsafe,” Hannah said but Rose turned the mare away, praying for divine intervention. Leith must not awaken, for even if he trusted her instincts, he would not allow her to go. And if he sent an army, or went himself to MacAulay land ... She shivered, seeing blood. No. She must go. And she must go alone.

"Please, me lady. Wait. Don't leave us," pleaded the maid. 'There is danger. Harlow!" She turned abruptly, desperation making her voice wispy. "Harlow, do not let her go."

Rose stopped and stiffened. So she had been right. It was Harlow who was hidden in the shadows with the lovely Hannah. Harlow with the hard past and the flinty eyes. Harlow who had accosted her by the river and been present at the rocky knoll where she'd felt the evil. And yet, was it his evil or was he simply a young man with too few prospects and a great love for a woman denied to him?

"If you stop me," Rose said firmly, "you will need to explain your presence here." Her gaze shifted to the shadow she knew to be Harlow and her tone softened. "Do not worry. There is but something I must do." She lifted the reins. "Keep silent, Hannah," she whispered, "and when I return on the morrow, I will ask our laird if there is not some way that you and Harlow might wed."

"Me lady," said Hannah, "how could ye ken me fondest desire?"

"Be silent, now," Rose begged, and turned away again.

"I canna let ye go into danger to better me own life," Hannah whispered. "For I owe ye much already."

"You owe me nothing," countered Rose, hurrying toward the drawbridge.

" Tis na true."

From the darkness Silken called softly, startling a gasp from Hannah, but she grabbed Harlow's hand, dragging him along as she ran after the black mare. "I owe ye for wee Somerled's life. For sweet Roman's well-being. For Eve's happiness. I owe ye much already. Dunnaa go," she pleaded.

"I must. Please understand. I—"

"Auld William guards the drawbridge," said Harlow suddenly. "I will send him away and lower the bridge."

"No! Harlow!" Hannah gasped, but he was already striding off. "Please," pleaded the woman again, but Rose took her hand, shushing her softly. They stood together silently then, waiting until Harlow returned.

"I told him I'd keep his watch," he explained. He caught Rose's gaze with his own. "Ye have only a few minutes."

He turned away and she followed.

The crank complained softly as Harlow turned it. The drawbridge settled onto the land beyond the rushing river.

"Thank you," Rose whispered. "I shall not forget this."

She was across the bridge in a moment, and though it was not easy to mount bareback, she managed it somehow, and, leaning over the mare's neck, headed west, toward MacAulay Hold.

"Harlow," Hannah whispered, gripping her lover's sleeve with trembling hands, "what have we done?"

Most probably he had caused his own execution, Harlow reasoned grimly. "We have done nothing," he said, pulling her hands from his sleeve to take them in his own. "It is I and I alone who has aided her escape. Ye will claim na knowledge of it. Do ye hear me?"

"Nay, Harlow!" Hannah cried. "Why do ye do this?"

For a moment his eyes closed and when he turned his gaze to the west, there was no sight of the Lady Fiona, no sound of the black mare's hoofbeats in the darkness. "She could have seen me dead, Hannah," he answered. "She could have caused me death long since. For the laird thinks it is I who wounded her."

"Nay!" Hannah denied, her fingers tightening in his. "Nay. Tis na true."

"Aye, me love," he said softly. "And he has reasons to think I wish her harm. And for that I am sorry. But I canna be sorry for granting her wish. She has saved me more than once from the Forbes' fury. I fear he thinks I stalk her, when in truth I only wish to be near ye. He thinks me lust for her so deep that I deny all good sense in me quest for her. He thinks me the greatest of fools."

Harlow's voice was filled with deep, quiet sorrow, an aching longing for respect.

"Harlow," Hannah whispered, "I dunna understand yer words, but I ken this. If the Lady Fiona should be harmed, the guilt shall be upon our heads, whether or na others know of our deeds. Please. If ye love me, go after her. Dunna let harm befall her."

In the darkness Harlow blanched. If he followed her, Leith would see his actions as proof of his guilt and would surely kill him. But if he did not... "I do love ye, lass. Dunna forget that," he implored, and, loosing her hands, hurried toward the stable and a swift mount.

Dermid chuckled to himself. So the lass had flown Glen Creag and now headed west toward MacAulay Hold.

Turning his horse, he followed her. He could kill her quickly and soon, but how much better to wait until they reached MacAulay land and take his time with her!

Yes. He would follow her, anticipating the killing to come.