by Cathie Dunn
Sharing the little space they had, the apprentice grinned at him, brandishing a set of what looked like sharp hooks. “We’re not just mendin’ shoes, sir.” He turned to the door and tried a few sets, twisting them back and forth in the lock. Finally, they heard a loud click.
“Thank you, lad.”
The boy stepped back. Turning the handle, Rory shoved the door open.
His heart froze. A dark bundle lay on the floor in the middle of the room. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light, and he heard her whimper.
“Cat,” he whispered and rushed to her side. She kept her eyes closed and struggled when he tried to lift her into his arms.
“No! Leave me be.” Her voice barely audible, she drove her shoulder into his side, all the while struggling to be free.
“Catriona,” he said louder. “It’s me, Rory. Shhh.” Her eyes flew open, blinking against the daylight streaming through the open door. As recognition dawned, he gathered her into his arms and rocked her gently as she cried.
“Rory! You’re alive.”
“Hush now, my love. I’ll get you out of here.” He turned to see the apprentice hovering in the doorframe. “Can you get my horse to the bottom of the stairs, lad?”
“Aye, sir.” The boy disappeared from sight, loud steps pounding down the steps.
“Now here,” Rory murmured. “Let’s see to this.” He pulled his dirk from his boot and cut loose her hands. Catriona sat back, rubbing her chafed wrists. The blade sliced through the cords at her feet and with a sigh, she stretched her leg. He took her hands and massaged her wrists. Her eyes large, they held his gaze for what seemed like an eternity.
“I’m so sorry.” He swallowed hard. It tore his heart out seeing her in this state. Her arms were raw, and a purple bruise covered her elbow. She shook like a leaf. He drew her into his arms and rested her head on his shoulder. Only then did he smell the blood, felt the stickiness on her hair.
Rory withdrew a few inches, his hand exploring the wound above her temple. She flinched but held still.
“Sorry, lass. This needs mending. Can you stand?” She nodded, and he pulled her up with him. As her legs gave way, he scooped her into his arms. Her lips were tantalizingly close to his and need proved too strong. Pulling her closer still, his mouth brushed hers. A shudder went through him. Nothing had ever felt so right.
Slowly, he lifted his head. “Hold on tight, Cat. We have a steep climb down ahead of us.” A wave of emotions raked through him when she draped her arms tight around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder.
He’d take care of her.
Chapter Nineteen
Catriona woke to the sound of birdsong drifting through the open window. Sunlight beamed around the edges of the curtains swaying in the morning breeze, bathing the room in a golden glow. No noisy crowds, no carts rushing up and down the streets. Simple, pure bliss.
A knock on her door pulled her from her dreams. “Come in.” She sat up, pulling the covers to cover her chest. Mairi entered, bearing a tray of porridge and tea, and set it on the bed.
“There you go, lass. You’ll be in fine fettle in no time.”
Catriona laughed as she balanced the tray on her knees. “Mairi, I’ve been back a full week and might end up as fat as a goose if I keep eating at this rate. I’m fine now. Honestly,” she added, seeing the look of worry on the girl’s face. Mairi was so much more than a maid. She was like the sister Catriona never had.
“You can never be certain. Will you go riding again today? Rory doesn’t like it when you go off on your own, and he’s gone out for the morning.”
Catriona shrugged. “Well, I can’t wait for him all day. Yes, I’d like to go for a ride after breaking my fast. I don’t want to waste such a beautiful day.”
“It certainly is that,” Mairi said, pulling the curtains open. Catriona squinted in the glare of the morning sun.
“I can’t be stuck indoors just because Rory worries. He always worries.” Blowing on a spoonful of steaming porridge to cool it, she blushed. It seemed like the whole community suspected something was afoot between Rory and her, even though he’d kept his distance the last few days. Catriona guessed it was due to her ongoing recovery. “Where did he go?”
Mairi shrugged. “Rory goes where he has to go. This time I think it’s something to do with that horrible man, Henderson. He’s still on the run, and I know Major Campbell’s keen to catch him.”
Catriona shivered and put the spoon down. “I wish they would. Actually, I wish he were dead. That way he’d never threaten another woman again.” She put the tray to the side, her appetite lost.
The maid went to the clothes peg, picking up Catriona’s simple, grey riding gown and jacket. “They’ll catch him, no worries. Henderson’s not liked anywhere in the Highlands so wherever he’s hiding, someone will betray him. Sooner or later. Even Jamie’s joined the hunt, although he keeps at a wise distance from the Redcoats. He’s speaking to folk around Stirling where Henderson was last spotted. Sometimes folk rather speak to one of their own than a Redcoat. He’s already provided Major Campbell with important information.”
The sound of pride in Mairi’s voice made Catriona’s smile. The pair had become inseparable. No doubt, Jamie would find the courage soon to speak to Rory about their plans.
“Yes, he’s doing very well, Rory told me. My brother hasn’t seen John either. He said so in the letter I received yesterday. In fact, Angus sounded quite subdued.” Catriona pushed the covers away and went to the washbasin, to dip her hands in the cool water. She splashed her face, and then dried it with a linen towel. “I think the debt collectors are back at his door and nobody’s around to help him. This time he’ll have to sort out his own mess.” Satisfied with her brother’s troubles, she slid out of her night clothes and held up her arms for Mairi to help her dress.
***
The breeze played with loose strands of her hair as she rode at a canter up the lochside path. Warmed by the sun, she watched as seagulls landed on the glistening water, the gentle waves mirroring deep blue against the cloudless sky. The atmosphere was peaceful, the landscape covered with colorful little dots, heathers and wildflowers swaying in the breeze. It was paradise.
Realization hit her just as she approached the boathouse. Yes, this was her home now for the rest of her life. At least she hoped. Rory had not yet asked for her hand, nor had he uttered those little three little words she was so desperate to hear. Every time they were together he was attentive, charming, holding her hand, touching her neck, and stroking her face. Yet, he always refrained from kissing her and slid away from any embrace she sought. Perhaps she was wrong, and he did not love her after all. Perhaps he just agreed to her being here, to share his home because he felt sorry for her? Tears welled up, and she stifled a sob.
Catriona brought her mount to a halt outside the boathouse. Did Rory ever return to the cave? This was most dangerous, with the military boats now patrolling the loch both day and night.
She tied the reins to a branch and went to the door. The rusty hinges creaked when she pulled it open, and she stood still, her eyes adjusting to the dimness inside. She saw the boat, tied to a stake, swaying against the floorboards. Relief flooded her, and she balled her hands into fists to keep them from shaking. Rory had not ventured out on the water. Perhaps he was already back at the house looking for her? She should return.
As Catriona turned away from the darkness, a movement to her side caught her by surprise. Her hand on the latch, she gasped when someone pulled her by the hair from behind. Rough hands shoved her to the floor on her belly, taking her breath away. She tried to push herself off the ground but a knee in the small of her back held her in place. The dirk hidden in the folds of her dress was out of reach.
“Good morning, Catriona. It’s so good to see you up and about.”
“John!” Her body shuddered, and she closed her eyes momentarily. Rory and Mairi were right. She’d been foolish to go out alone. “What are you doing here
?”
His hand at the base of her neck made her skin crawl. “We have unfinished business. I’m here for payment. This time I’m going to make sure I get it.” He lifted his weight off her and flipped her over. Catriona kicked out with her legs but her riding dress, with the petticoats underneath, hampered her. John hit her with his fist. She wheezed, clawing at her cheek.
He pushed up her skirts, one hand pressing onto her middle to pin her down.
Catriona screamed, her vision spinning from the impact, and blood pounded in her ears.
“Oh yes, lie back, dear. You’ll enjoy it just as much as I will.” He ripped her skirts apart and, fending off her kicking legs, squeezed himself between them. His hand raked up her thighs, nails scratching her skin.
She hissed in pain as his fingers dug into her flesh. “Stop,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with pain.
She lashed out at him but regretted it the same moment when his fist came crashing into her stomach. The punch knocked the wind from her. Refusing to let him see her tears and her pain, Catriona closed her eyes, pretending to faint.
“Oh no, Catriona! I won’t let you go. I’m not finished with you yet.” His voice shuddering with excitement, John began to loosen his breeches.
“I think you are, Henderson. Finished, that is. Make one more move and you’ll be dead. Please, give me an excuse.”
“Rory!” Catriona opened her eyes to see Rory pointing a pistol at John’s head. John turned sharply, his hand aiming to knock the pistol from Rory’s grasp but this time Rory was prepared, moving just out of reach.
“Let her go,” Rory growled, and the unleashed fury in his gaze made Catriona shiver. He made a dangerous enemy.
John turned to her, a wolfish grin on his face. He forced her up and ducked behind her, the sharp blade of a dirk at her throat. “Look who’s got the upper hand now, Cameron. You don’t want anything to happen to your little darling, do you?” He pulled Catriona up and dragged her with him toward the boat. When she tried to twist from his grasp, a searing pain stung her. He’d nicked her neck. A slow trickle of blood dripped down her dress. Her eyes met Rory’s, reading the cold determination in them.
Rory would find a way. She trusted him.
Untying the rope holding the boat, John stepped into it, always holding her in front of him. The small vessel rocked on the soft waves as he tried to keep the balance. Rory could not get a clear shot unless she moved but John did not give her a chance. He sat on a plank, dragging her down with him.
“Take the oars and push us off,” he hissed into her ear, the blade scratching her throat. Catriona reached for the oars and pushed the boat off the walkway, letting it float out into open water. Panic welled in her chest. What if John made her row to the other side of the loch? Rory could never get across in time.
“Faster!” A slap on the back of her head made her tumble, but he jerked her right back. “Not so fast, dearie.”
Oh, how she hated the patronizing sound of his voice. Turning, Catriona saw him watching her, eyes squinting against the bright sunlight. She looked back at the shore, watching Rory stand by the water’s edge, pistol aimed at them. Her chances were draining away. Once out of reach, she was entirely at John’s mercy.
Sensing John peeking over her shoulder at the shore, she rammed an elbow into his face. A crunching sound told her she’d broken his nose. He fell backwards with a scream, the dirk flying into the water.
Catriona scrambled out of his reach causing the boat to tilt. Arms flailing in the air, she barely kept her balance. The oars went overboard as the rocking grew more violent. Blood spurted from John’s nose. His gaze, full of hatred, never left her. When he rose, she moved further away from him, but the hem of her gown caught on a rusty nail. John inched toward her. Eyes bulging, he snarled at her as he stretched out a hand to grab her dress. Catriona kicked her feet, and he straightened again.
A shot rang out across the water, echoing off the hills around them. John’s gaze turn dull, as blood gushed from a scarlet hole in his forehead. Another shot hit him in the chest, sending him backwards into the water. Gripping the edge of the boat, she stared after him as his body sank into the depths. Was he really gone? Unable to wrench her gaze from the spot where he vanished, her body began to shiver.
A shout drifted through her daze.
Rory!
With her hands clinging to the planks, Catriona turned and watched him throw his pistol and a musket to the ground, remove his shirt, and tug off his boots. In two strides he was in the water, swimming steadily toward the boat. Terrified John might hide under the surface and attack him, Catriona peeked over the edge, but his body had disappeared without a trace.
Moments later, Rory reached the boat, having collected the loose oars. She took them, and the boat rocked when he heaved himself in. The look in his eyes, full of fear and love, told her all she needed to know. He balanced the boat with his knees and drew her close. Cradling her in his arms, he whispered to her soothing words in Gaelic, his breath hot on her chilled skin, until her breathing calmed.
Catriona nestled her head against his chest, her ear against his heart, and her heartbeat slowed in unison with his.
“He’s gone,” he croaked in English, his voice ragged. “He’s gone.” He held her at a hand’s breadth, raking his gaze over her before slowly releasing her. “Let’s go home.”
She leaned back against the wood, reaching for his hand and holding it tight. Rory was here. All was good.
***
As Rory sat by her bedside later that night, he looked her over, concern mingling with the anger still boiling within him. The scrapes at her neck and face were a faint hue of purple, and the cut at her throat, sure to turn into a scar, a constant reminder. He swore.
Never again.
“You’re mine now,” he whispered. His heart skipped a beat as a smile spread across her peaceful face, lost in sleep. He leaned back, contentment slowly overcoming his rage. Henderson was dead. Angus was in disgrace. And Catriona was all his.
A sense of guilt mingled with the love bursting from his heart as he sat, watching her.
The hour was late when Rory returned to his chamber. He had sat by Catriona’s bedside for most of the night, and had come to a decision, having spent the hours in serious thought.
Uncaring, he dropped his clothes on the floor by the bed. Tiredness washed over him as he blew out the candle. The itching of the scars on his back more irritating than painful now, he leaned into the soft pillows. At last, he closed his eyes and exhaled on a sigh.
A hesitant knock on the door made him open them again. The door slid open, and he watched as a slim, female form sneaked in and locked it behind her. Rory smiled when Catriona stepped tentatively across the dim room, slivers of moonlight guiding her way. The gleam illuminated soft curves underneath her thin shift. He licked his suddenly dry lips.
“Catriona,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. Heat shot through him. He threw the covers back and stretched out his hand for her. “Are you well?”
“I didn’t want to be alone.” She put her hand in his, her eyes wide. Her gaze traveled along his body, his need for her plain to see. She stopped short by his side, as if unsure what to do next.
Rory kneeled on the bed in front of her, stroking her face. “You’re not alone, Catriona. Never again will you be alone. Never again will I fail you.”
Soft fingers touched his cheek. “You didn’t fail me, Rory. You saved me.”
When she spoke, she tilted her head to see his face and now was so close her breath kissed his lips. He could not seem to stop touching her. “I want you to love me,” Catriona said. “I want you to make me yours.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “After all you’ve suffered? You still need rest and may recon—”
“Sshhh.” Her fingers brushed over his lips. “I’m certain, Rory. You can help me forget. Make love to me.”
She smiled, a shy smile that started a fire raging within him. His hands slid down her ne
ck, along the rim of her shift. She shivered under his touch. In one smooth move, he pulled the shift over her head, exposing her to him. How long had he waited for this moment!
Rory’s breath faltered. “You are beautiful.” Pulling her toward him, hands gliding down her back, his lips explored the slender line of her neck, nibbled the soft spot under her earlobe. A soft moan escaped her lips, and she leaned closer, her hands roaming his chest with the lightest of touches.
“Come to me,” he said as he pulled her down with him, cradling her head in the crook of his arm. He sealed her lips with a searing kiss.
Epilogue
Catriona’s hand shook as she tried to keep the candle steady, scattering droplets of wax onto the stone floor. Rory crouched next to her, releasing the sliding rock to reveal the entrance to the cave with the shimmering ceiling. It was his idea to come here, following the trail of the mysterious seal which she insisted saved her from the soldiers.
“Have you ever seen any seals here?” she asked. Taking his offered hand, she slid in behind him before he pulled the trigger to seal the entrance.
Rory shook his head. “No, but I’ve heard them often enough.” Seeing the surprise in her eyes, he laughed. “Dozens of seals come to the loch each year. It’s perfectly possible one or two found this cave for shelter.”
“Ahh,” she whispered as she held the candle aloft, bringing the ceiling to sparkle. Hues of green and blue, red and yellow, vied for supremacy in the shimmering light.
They rounded several stalagmites and found a flat spot, with a straight wall behind them. Rory pulled a blanket from his bag and, shaking it out, laid it onto the ground. A couple of cushions followed.
“It’s not much, but it’ll do. Please sit, Cat.”
The solemn sound of his voice made her search his face. Fear gripped her heart for a moment, but the love in his eyes soothed her. She sat and leaned against the wall, adjusting her skirts as she stretched her legs in front of her.
