Tempted by a Highland Moon Page 12

  "How the devil did you manage to get that?"

  "I slipped into your bedchamber and found it. There's food inside, as well."

  He chuckled. "You're amazing, Kila." He squeezed her tight. She felt so good in his arms."Douse the candle, before someone sees it."

  She quickly blew out the flame and placed the candleholder on the floor.

  "What of Connor and Eadan?"

  "Colin ordered them to their bedchamber, and placed a guard outside the door."

  He sighed with relief. "I was afraid they'd put up a fight, even though they were unarmed, and end up badly injured."

  He led her from the cell, then stopped. "From which way did you come, lass?" he whispered.

  "Left, but the door is guarded. He had fallen asleep, and I slipped past."

  "Good lass." Then we'll go this way. He kissed her on the forehead, and turned right, down a second corridor.

  "I'm certain there's more than one way out of here, as there are most dungeons."

  "Seen the inside of many dungeons, have you?" she teased.

  He grinned. At least the lass hadn't lost her sense of humor. "Aye, my share, I suppose."

  As they passed the long row of cells, he noticed that only a few of them appeared to be occupied. Even so, the smell was horrendous. Moaning and snoring reached their ears as they moved further along. He prayed none of the prisoners would wake and give them away.

  When they finally found the way outside, Duncan removed the heavy wooden bar bracing the door closed. But when he tried to pull it open, he found its massive hinges had rusted shut from lack of use. He cursed beneath his breath. If he had his dirks, he could have used them to scrape away the rust, and perhaps, pry open the door.

  "What is it, Duncan?"

  "It willnae budge." He had to find a way through that door, before anyone missed them.

  "What will we do?" He could hear the panic in her voice.

  "Look around for something to scrape the rust away. I need to loosen those hinges."

  Thankfully, the small window above them allowed in enough moonlight to see by, and after a few moments of searching, Kila found a broken hinge from one of the empty cells. "Will this work?"

  He took it from her. "Aye." Ignoring the pain in his fingers, he ran it around the hinges, scrapping and prying, until they were wet with his own blood, and after a time, the door started to give way. Wedging the hinge at the front edge, he pushed with all his might, until it finally came loose. He opened it only wide enough for the two of them to slip through, then quietly closed it behind them.

  He took a deep breath of the fresh, clean air, and heard Kila do the same. The pinking of the horizon said dawn would be breaking soon, and they needed to put some distance between themselves and Whitestag Castle before it did.

  As they moved past the stables, a horse whinnied, and he knew it was Tearlach. The stallion had picked up Duncan's scent. Traveling would most certainly be easier on the back of a horse, and he'd not relished leaving him behind. He was more than just a horse, he was a friend.

  Duncan gently shoved Kila into the byre. "Stay put."

  Keeping to the shadows, he made his way into the stables. Thankfully, Tearlach was in the first stall. He quietly opened the gate, led the horse out, then grabbed his saddle from the top railing and placed it across the horse's back. He covered the horse's nose to keep him quiet, then led him around back to the byre, where Kila waited.

  "We'll have to leave here by the postern gate." After Duncan secured the saddle, he led Tearlach, and they kept to the shadows to avoid being seen by the guards. Once the gate was in sight, he stopped. "There's but a single guard. I need you to walk toward him. Once his attention is on you, I'll come up behind him and knock him out, then get the gate key."

  Kila nodded, but her face showed pale in the dim light. The guard spotted her the minute she stepped out of the shadows.

  He grinned. "Well, well. Trying to escape, are ye, m'lady? The laird will be most pleased that I kept ye from it."

  With the guard's attention on Kila, Duncan circled around behind him, but the guard saw him and jumped back. After a short scuffle, he punched the guard in the jaw and he lay still. Hopefully, he'd be out for a while. After finding the key, Duncan took the man's dirks, targe and broadsword. He unlocked the gate and they hurried through. After lifting Kila onto the horse, he swung up behind her, and slipped his arm around her waist. He kept to the edge of the wood, hidden by a thick mist, until he felt it was safe to pick up their pace.

  Even though she'd worn her cloak, Kila shivered against his chest. "The sun will be up before long and warm your wee bones." He bent his head and pressed his lips against her cold cheek.

  She snuggled back against him, sending a wave of desire through Duncan. He clenched his teeth to keep from moaning, and tightened his grip on the reins. What the lass did to him, no woman ever had, and it made him daft.

  "Tell me, lass, how did you manage to get past the guard at your bedchamber door?"

  "Wyn and I switched clothing."

  He nodded. "I can see that."

  "I pretended to be Wyn, and told him m'lady was in need of the healer. At first, I was afraid he'd no' allow me to go, but Wyn, pretending to be me, acted as though she was violently ill by retching over the side of the bed, and since the guard wasnae about to go inside to check on her, he allowed me to go after the healer."

  Duncan chuckled. "Kila, you're brilliant."

  She smiled. "I wouldnae say that, but as you can see, my ploy worked."

  He grinned. "Aye, it did indeed."

  "Duncan?"

  "Aye?"

  "Where are we going?"

  "I've been thinking about that. Kade and Ravenskull Castle are too far away, and in the opposite direction. We cannae get to the isles—too dangerous—where Galen and Cin, as well as my own clan would give us aid. Nay, our only option is Blackstone Castle. The MacPherson laird, Alex, is a fine man and brother to my good friend Galen's wife, Sorcha. He's a friend, as well, and will do what he can to help."

  "I trust you, Duncan," she said, and before long, was relaxed against him in sleep.

  She trusted him. He swallowed hard. He'd not let her down. He'd keep her safe, or else die trying.

  VERONA GRITTED HER teeth and held onto the bed post, while her lady's maid, tightened the laces on her bodice. "Tighter, did you no' hear me?"

  "But m'lady. Ye'll no' be able to breathe," she said, which gained her a hard slap across the face.

  "Do as I say, you insolent creature," she snapped, noting with satisfaction the hand print she'd left. It served the disobedient wench right for questioning her orders.

  "Aye, m'lady."

  Verona smiled as the bodice tightened, shoving her breasts up even more. She wanted to look her best when she broke her fast with Colin. He'd not be able to keep her eyes off of her. Her attempts to rid herself once and for all of Kila had failed miserably. But she'd seen the anger in Colin's eyes when she'd told him of their deceit. She felt certain he'd now break his marriage contract with Kila and send her back to Windmere Castle.

  Once he figured out it was she he wanted and not that slip of a girl, her worries would be over. She had to make certain that if he did indeed still decide to marry Kila, her demise would soon be forthcoming. There was more than one way to snare a man, and she knew them all.

  She picked up the mirror of polished silver and admired her appearance, noting how youthful she still looked. Tucking a stray hair behind her ear, she left the bedchamber and made her way downstairs and to the great hall.

  Colin was already seated, conversing with Balfour. As she came across the room toward the high table, he saw her, and his gaze traveled over her approvingly, and he smiled.

  "Good morn, Lady Murray."

  She smiled. "Good morn, my laird. Please, call me Verona," she said, as she purposely seated herself directly across the table from him.

  His gaze immediately dropped to her chest, and lingered there. "I must s
ay, you look lovely this morn."

  She smiled. "Much thanks. Where is my stepdaughter? Has she no' yet risen?"

  Colin frowned. "I just sent the housekeeper to fetch her for a second time. She's more than likely still angry at me for tossing MacDonell in the dungeon, but she'll get over it, once we're wed."

  Fury swept over Verona. So he did still plan to marry Kila. Balfour appeared as shocked at the news as she was. She leaned across the table. "Are you certain? The two are quite fond of one another. What if she is carrying his bairn?"

  He shrugged. "I'll wait a few months before wedding her, just to be certain. If she has no' been compromised—as she says—I'll indeed marry her. Once MacDonell is out of the way, all will be well."

  "What do you intend to do with him?"

  He narrowed his eyes. "I haven't yet decided. Possibly call him out for a duel."

  The elderly housekeeper came to a stop beside the table and curtsied. "M'laird. I'm afraid the lass is no' in her bedchamber."

  His green eyes flashed with rage, and his face reddened. "Then where the devil is she?"

  "No one appears to ken. Seems she took ill last night and the guard allowed her maid to fetch the healer. He says the maid never returned, but the maid is the only one in the room this morn."

  He slammed his fist against the oak table, overturning his goblet of ale. "She tricked him!" He turned to the two bodyguards behind him. "Find her."

  The men nodded, then hurried away.

  Another guard raced toward them. "MacDonell isnae in the dungeon, m'laird."

  Colin turned to Verona. "Surely my intended wife wasnae bold enough to free the bastard?"

  She raised a brow. "As I've said before, my laird, she's quite fond of him." Verona covered her mouth to hide her smile. Perhaps fate had decided to look kindly upon her. Surely he'd not want to wed Kila after this little feat of hers? But there, of course, was still the matter of the dowry.

  After nearly an hour, the two guards returned.

  Colin frowned. "Well, have you any news?"

  "We found the candle holder from Lady Kila's bedchamber in MacDonell's cell. The housekeeper verified it came from there. It does appear she freed him, laird," the smaller of the two men said hesitantly.

  The laird looked near to bursting into flames. "Do you know in which direction they've gone?"

  The other guard nodded. "Aye, m'laird. They escaped through the postern gate. Willy was out cold when we found him, and his weapons missing. MacDonell managed to take his own horse, which, of course, has given them a considerable head start."

  "Damn," Colin snarled through clenched teeth. "Take twenty men and go after them. Bring Lady Kila back unharmed, and MacDonell alive, for I plan to kill him myself."

  "Aye, m'laird." Both men hurried away to do his bidding.

  Verona rose from the table after having but a few bites of her porridge, for she was too excited to eat. "Please excuse me, my laird." She nodded to her brother.

  Without looking at her, Colin dismissed her with a wave of his hand. He was clearly distraught over the matter.

  She returned to her bedchamber, and a few minutes later there came a knock at her door. She opened it and Balfour hurried into the room.

  He raised a brow. "You've something up your sleeve, sister. What is it?"

  She grinned. "You ken me too well, brother. Offer Colin your service and go with the guards. When the opportunity offers itself, kill them both." She paced the room for a moment, then stopped. "Better yet, kill her, then blame it on MacDonell."

  Balfour smiled. "You're devious. I'd no' wish you for an enemy."

  "You'll do well to remember that, wee brother."

  "I will," he replied, then left the bedchamber.

  Verona sat down on the window seat, and looked out toward the stables. She watched her brother mount his stallion, and ride away with the others. He'd not let her down this time. Kila would be dead, Verona would have Colin, and MacDonell would die at the laird's own hands. What more could she ask?

  CHAPTER TEN

  Kila came wide awake as Duncan slipped off the horse, pulling her down with him, and quickly led Tearlach into a thicket. "Is something amiss?" she whispered, her heart pounding against her ribs.

  "Shhh." He pointed to a ridge above them. "Riders, perhaps highwaymen," he whispered against her ear.

  A tree branch ripped at her hair, and a gorse bush tore at her skirts and legs, as she moved closer to Duncan, whose hand rested on the hilt of his sheathed broadsword. Kila knew he'd not yet drawn his weapon for fear the sunlight glinting off the steel would give away their location.

  Terrified they'd be found, Kila whispered a prayer for their safety. She'd heard many stories of what happened to people—especially women—who were set upon by highwayman, and trembled at the thought.

  Nigh on an hour passed, before Duncan took his hand away from his weapon. "They've gone upstream and away from us."

  "Are you certain?"

  "Aye. I've excellent hearing, lass. We're alone, of that, you can be sure."

  She breathed a sigh of relief. They'd been traveling all day, stopping only briefly to rest the horse, as Duncan wanted to put as much distance between them and Whitestag as possible, before stopping for the night. In fact they'd broken their fast and eaten their midday meal on Tearlach's back. Now, gloaming had settled around them and a cool wind rustled the leaves and tree branches. She shivered and drew her cloak tighter.

  Apparently her action had not gone unnoticed by Duncan. "There's a small cave a mile or so up ahead. Cin and I have sought shelter there on more than one occasion when traveling in this direction. We can build a fire without fear of it being seen." He led Tearlach into the open and lifted Kila into the saddle, before swinging up behind her.

  Duncan was tall, even for a Highlander, and his large frame was covered with naught but solid muscle. Kila knew it to be so, for she'd felt them move beneath her hands, and the sensation had simply taken her breath away.

  He slipped his arm around her waist, and pulled her back against his chest. "Dinnae fash yourself, lass, all will be well; I'll see that it is."

  And she believed him.

  It didn't take long for them to reach the cave, where a small, still loch lay several yards left of the entrance.

  Duncan dismounted, then lifted Kila down. "We'll stay here for the night. 'Twould be dangerous to try and continue. Too many cliffs about." He looked up at the darkening sky and led the horse to the loch.

  Kila knelt a few feet away and quenched her thirst, before washing her face in the cold water and rising to her feet.

  Duncan tethered the stallion to a shrub, allowing him to pick the lush green grass growing along the water's edge, then removed his doublet and shirt.

  She couldn't pull her gaze away from his muscled chest and arms, nor the line of dark hair that ran down the center of his flat stomach, before disappearing into the waist of his belted plaid. She'd already seen him unclothed and knew perfectly well what lay beneath it. She shivered at the memory. "What are you doing?"

  "I smell like that blasted dungeon." He pulled off his boots, then began to unbuckle his belt. "You might wish to look the other way, lass, but I'd no' be minding if you didnae," he said, a slow crooked grin spreading across his handsome face.

  She let out a squeal and spun around, just in time to hear him hit the water. Her heart was pounding, her palms wet with perspiration, she could hardly breathe—and she yearned for him to take her into his arms. She peered over her shoulder.

  He was an excellent swimmer, and swam a good distance down the loch, before returning. He strode out of the water, and stood a few feet away, looking out over the loch. The finely chiseled muscles of his back, buttocks, and legs glistened in the fading light, as he shook the water from his long hair. He was perfection itself.

  Look away before he catches you watching him! She really should, and yet she wanted naught more at that moment than to see all of him again, but when he started to turn
, she looked away, her earlier boldness nowhere to be found.

  He chuckled. "You can turn around, lass, if you'd like."

  Aye, she'd like, but instead, she hurried toward the cave entrance.

  Once he was dressed, Duncan led Tearlach to the rear of the cave to keep him from being seen. Kila helped him gather a good supply of firewood, and he soon had a fire burning. "I'm going to find us a bit of meat to go with the rest of that bread you brought along." He handed her one of the dirks. "Just in case."

  She nodded and slipped the weapon beneath her cloak. As Duncan disappeared into the growing darkness, Kila kept a tight grip on the dirk handle and waited for his return.

  After what seemed like an hour, but in truth only minutes, he reappeared with a large hare skinned, skewered on a stick and ready to roast. Shoving a forked twig into the ground on either side of the fire, he hung his catch over the flames, then got to his feet.

  "Keep turning it, lass, or else 'twill burn before 'tis cooked." He left the cave, but soon returned with an armload of sweet grass, which he piled in one corner.

  This was to be their bed for the night. Heat rose in her cheeks, as she tried to keep her focus on their supper.

  Once the hare was roasted brown, he sliced off a piece and handed it to her, before doing the same for himself.

  It was hot, and burned her fingers. She blew on it, before taking a bite, then moaned. "'Tis delicious, Duncan, I was so hungry."

  He grinned, then leaned back against a rock and watched her while he ate. "You're beautiful," he said matter-of-factly.

  "Surely you jest. I'm certain I look a mess."

  Duncan shook his head. "Nay. I like your hair loose and hanging over your shoulders, like the mane of a wild mare."

  His features blurred. Men had praised her beauty before, compared her to this or that flower, but none had touched her like Duncan's simple comparison.

  "Tell me about your family," he said, cutting off another slice of meat and handing it to her.

  She thought for a moment while she chewed. "Well, of course, you already ken Verona. She's always treated me appallingly, and I believe, if no' for my father, she would have married me off to anyone, just to get me out of the castle. Once she moved into Windmere, she thought of it as her own, and I was just in the way. She was often unkind to Father, but he always gave her whatever she wished.