"Duncan," she whispered in his ear. "Stay here and be quiet. I will be right back."
"Wh-Where are you going?"
"To crawl over to one of the secret doors and see if I can open
it."
"It is too risky."
This was so like him. Stubborn to the point of unreasonable. "And you are thinking with your wounded arm and a fever you could be doing better?"
He wiped the sweat from his brow. "I promised to keep you
safe."
"And you have." She gentled her voice, aware he was persecuting himself for their situation, when in fact, this was all her fault. Why did he have to be so noble? "This once you will do it my way. After I have the door open, I will wave you over."
He reached over and clasped his hand over hers, his hold a pittance of his strong grip in the dungeon. "I..." He hesitated. "Be safe."
"I will." Isabel withdrew her hand from his and immediately missed his touch. Even after three years, he still felt so much a part of her. A part she could never again have. Her body ached with the
need to have him hold her, want her as he once did. She longed to tell him the truth. That she still loved him. A fact she never could.
"What is wrong?" Duncan asked, tearing her from her musings.
"Naught." She inched to the edge of the bed. Holding her breath, Isabel rolled from beneath and then lay still.
Above her, a cool breeze sifted into the room, spinning up fragments of dust to shimmer within the moonlight like a fairy’s trail. The occasional shout from a guard outside blended with the blustery wind and Frasyer's occasional snore.
After peeking over the edge of the bedding to ensure Frasyer still slept, Isabel crawled across the floor. Each placement of her hand seemed to form another drip of terrified sweat upon her brow. Each second a dark promise that Frasyer would awaken and catch her.
At the bottom of the tapestry, she ran her hands over the cold, rough stone. A finger's width from the floor, her nail slipped into a crevice.
She'd found it!
Taking a deep breath, she ran her finger along the outline. Halfway up the side of the door, her nail dipped into a smooth, half-moon crevice carved into the stone.
Cloth rustled on the bed.
She froze. Expecting to find Frasyer sitting up on the bed glaring at her in outrage, Isabel turned.
Instead, she found Duncan inching his way over.
What was he doing? She'd told him to wait until she had the door open! Isabel waved him back, but Duncan continued forward. Was he addled? Aye, his fever was causing him to make poor decisions.
She glanced toward the second secret chamber where her mother's Bible might be within. Once Duncan was a safe distance and she'd tended to him, she would backtrack to search the hidden room.
A sleepy grumble sounded from the bed. In the moonlight, Frasyer's face turned toward her. "Isabel?"
Chapter 6
A saint's curse, Frasyer had seen her! Panic tightened Isabel's throat. She couldn't have answered him if she wanted to.
She motioned Duncan to halt.
He continued inching toward her. No! He had to go back and hide under the bed before Frasyer saw him!
Mumbling, Frasyer shifted.
Isabel froze.
Duncan stiffened.
Grumbling, Frasyer turned his head toward the opposite wall, his limbs tangled in the sheets. After a moment, he lay back and his breathing slowed. Quiet snores began filling the chamber.
Isabel's entire body sagged with relief. Heart still pounding, she glanced at Duncan as he reached her side.
"You lackwit!" she whispered.
He ignored her. "Hurry!"
As much as she wanted to rage at him, they had to go. Her fingers trembled as she wedged them into the carved indent and pulled. Stone scrapped with a soft hiss as the door inched open. Air, musty and damp, poured into the room. She glanced toward Frasyer.
He hadn't moved.
She pulled harder.
Finally, the door swung open enough to allow both her and Duncan entry.
His hand flattened against the door frame. In the moonlight, his determined gaze underscored his intent to leave by his own means, but the paleness of his face as he struggled to stand exposed the cost.
She hurried over and wrapped her arm under his right shoulder. He tried to shrug her off, but the slight tremble in his body made her stay close. His weakness before her wouldn't sit well with him, but right now, he needed her. However much he loathed her, she'd be there for him.
Duncan's grip was heavy on her shoulders as she glanced at Frasyer still snoring in his bed. If he hadn't heard the scrape of
stone, he was indeed a heavy sleeper. A grim smile touched her mouth. At least that answered Duncan's earlier question of how soundly Frasyer slept.
Isabel lifted the tapestry, helped Duncan inside and secured the door. Blackness engulfed them. "Stay here," she whispered, as she helped him lean against the wall. She pulled her hand away, shaken at how after three years she could be so aware of him and want him with her every breath. "Do not move. I will check your injury as soon as we are safe."
"It is fine," he gritted out.
She didn't dignify that with a response.
Cold stone ran beneath her hand as her fingers moved over the uneven surface, searching for a candle that should be stowed nearby.
At least with Frasyer never having allowed her into his bedchamber, the earl would believe her ignorant of the tunnels and dismiss them as a choice to make her escape.
Still, that wouldn't stop his search for her.
Or recover the travel time she'd lost to deliver the Bible to Lord Monceaux.
Duncan's boots scraped the dirt as he waited on shaky legs.
She caught his shoulder and steadied him. "I said do not move."
"I am—" He drew in an hard breath. "I am looking for the candle."
"I will find it. You need to rest."
"I will help." It wasn't a request.
Her protest died. If he was strong enough to argue, she'd be thankful for that.
She renewed her search. Their fingers touched, the warmth luring her to lean against Duncan. She pulled away and returned to her task. With him injured and growing weaker with each passing moment, his survival was up to her.
The steady drip of water played cadence with Duncan's raspy breathing as she continued her search. The cool air of the passageway and the musty smell made her wish for a fire to warm by and dispel an unsettling feeling enshrouding her.
"Over.. .Over here," Duncan said, his voice too faint for her liking.
She moved to his side, the heat pouring from his body reaching her. "Pass it to me and I will light it." She tried to keep the worry from her voice. How much longer before he collapsed? Please let them escape from the Castle before he did so.
Clothing rippled.
"Duncan?"
Silence.
Isabel reached out. Her fingers brushed his robe. "Do you need to sit?"
"I am...I am fine."
Far from it, oh dear Lord, help them. She followed the stiffness of his arm to where his hand clenched upon the stone.
His fingers shifted to brush against hers. Despite the completely ill-timed response, warmth stormed her body. Her pulse raced, desperately searching for a sliver of the bond that had existed between them. A fragment of trust, however fragile.
Duncan muttered a curse and shoved the candle and flint into her hands. "Light the blasted candle."
Why was she torturing herself wishing for what never could be? Isabel busied herself stacking dry tinder wedged in the crevice, left for such a desperate purpose.
Kneeling, she struck the knife to flint. Sparks raced through the darkness and then faded to black. She scraped the flint again. Sparks rained on the slivers of wood like stars of hope streaking
through the midnight sky. Several fragments flared within the tinder. A tinge of wood glowed for several moments, then ignited.
The waver of candlelight illuminated the narrow corridor. Near the edge of darkness, steps carved of stone faded downward. An escape route?
Isabel raised the candle chest high. The pale, yellowed light framed the fever burning in Duncan's eyes. By the strain on his face, he was struggling to stay on his feet.
She moved to his side. "Lean against me." When he stiffened, she lifted his arm over her shoulders. "If not for me, then for my father's sake."
A muscle worked in his jaw as he clung to a wedge of rock. Duncan grunted his assent, then he leaned his full weight against her. She steadied herself and started forward, slower than she would have liked. At this pace, how long would it take them to reach the safety of the forest? An hour? Two? One step at a time. She'd focus on that. They would make it.
She refused to believe otherwise.
With care, they worked their way down the hidden passage. Each step an achievement, each floor a miracle. Several times she tried to stop to allow Duncan time to rest, but when she began to slow, he pressed on.
"Be damned, move!" he growled.
"I am moving for both of us," she snapped irritably and continued on.
At long last, after both of them were gasping for breath and her muscles straining under Duncan's weight, the passageway levelled out. Her head pounded as she tried to remember what level they were on.
"What is wrong?
At Duncan's ragged voice, her fear of leading him from the castle escalated. "Nothing." And prayed they hadn't taken a wrong turn.
Hot wax dripped on her left hand. Isabel flinched. The candle flickered and then the flame steadied. She would have to pay closer attention. If the candle burned out before they reached the exit, they might become lost in the catacomb of tunnels.
"We need to move." With Duncan shuffling at her side, she started forward. Instead of solid ground, her foot dipped into a crevice. She yelped as she lost her balance and fell forward, her momentum dragging Duncan with her. She landed hard, and the candle flew from her hands.
Duncan cursed as he landed beside her.
"No!" She lunged for the candle that was rolling away. As she caught the base, the flame flickered. Then died.
Blackness engulfed them.
The ripe scent of candle smoke filled the darkness. Sounds magnified around them. Water dripping in the distance. Their breaths rushing out. Duncan's heart beating inches from her own.
With a groan, Isabel sat up. Pain sliced through her right knee. Holding her leg, she slowly bent it back and forth.
"Are you all right?" Duncan's voice pierced through the darkness.
"I am fine." Thank, Mary, it wasn't broken.
If only they could find the correct tunnel that led outside. As they'd descended, the catacomb of tunnels branching off to various parts of the castle had stunned her. She'd never imagined such an intricate web of secret passages existed within Frasyer's home.
Hot sweat greeted her palm as she touched Duncan's brow.
With a grumble, he swatted her hand away.
"Can you get up?" she asked.
"Aye."
By the weakness of his voice, she wasn't convinced. Without giving him an option, she caught his arm and helped him sit. "We need to relight the candle."
Cloth scraped against stone as Duncan leaned against the wall next to her. "Did you bring the flint?"
"I.. .1 did not think we would be needing it."
He sighed. "No use regretting it now. We will have to find the exit in the dark."
Isabel ignored the stabbing pain up her right leg and stood. Bracing herself against the wall, she reached down to help Duncan and then paused.
Like a faerie hill to wish upon, a shaft of light cut through the darkness. "Duncan, look up ahead."
"An exit."
"But to where?" she asked. "The bailey? An entry behind the gatehouse?"
"Wherever it leads," he rasped, "it is better than rotting in the dark."
Mayhap, but at least here, however temporary, they were safe. Isabel half pulled, half dragged Duncan to his feet. She braced herself for his weight as he leaned against her.
"Take it slow." Uneven rocks jabbed into her slippers as they inched forward. Near the exit, he stumbled. "No!" She caught him. Barely.
"I am fine," he panted out.
He wasn't. If he didn't rest soon, he'd pass out from exhaustion. If fever didn't overwhelm him first. "We will stop here for a short rest."
"There is no time."
Isabel wet her lips. His brother Seathan, Earl of Gray, lived but a day's travel from here. "I have an idea. You stay here, and I will go for help."
"And who would you be seeking aid from?"
"Seathan."
He snorted in disbelief.
His suspicion of her good intent hurt, but why would he be believing her after she'd hurt him three years ago?
"What if you are caught?"
"Unless Frasyer's guards have extended their search beyond the Castle, I should be safe."
"It is too far."
She didn't argue. For now it was pointless. As long as Duncan could travel, it was safer than leaving him here.
Duncan staggered forward.
She followed in silence.
The purple-gray streaks of dawn cut through the sky as they exited the tunnel. She scanned the field woven with winter-torn heather and took a deep breath, welcoming the fresh scent after the stale, tunnel air. At any other time, she would have enjoyed the beauty before her. Now, the clearing was another obstacle to overcome.
Across the lush expanse, a thick stand of trees outlined the edge of the forest. A short distance within lay the entrance to a hidden cave. One in which she'd secredy met with Symon many times before.
Symon.
Her chest tightened as she thought of her brother.
"What is wrong?"
Duncan's slurred voice had her glancing toward him, his ashen face causing her further worry. "Naught." She set aside the memories of her brother that threatened to rise. "The field is clear."
Far from the clutter of emotions wrapped around her heart that threatened to weaken her in a moment when she needed to be strong.
For them both.
A third of the way across the field, the sun peeked over the mountains. At this rate, 'twould be midday before they reached the forest. She scanned the horizon. With them framed within the field in broad daylight, if someone rode by, they would be easily seen.
"There is no sign of Frasyer's men," Duncan said as if sensing her concern.
"No, but by now Frasyer has widened his men's search to extend beyond the castle's boundaries."
"Aye."
As if beckoned by their words, the cadence of hooves pounded in the distance. Through the blades of grass, a small contingent of Frasyer's knights rode into view.
She caught Duncan's shoulder and tried to turn him back.
He resisted.
"We have to hide in the tunnel!"
"Isabel, I..." Instead of starting to turn, he collapsed. The chalky whiteness of his face in contrast to the blood staining through the cloth she'd bound over his wound.
"No!" Her arms shuddered beneath his full weight. He couldn't pass out on her now. They'd be caught! "Duncan?"
On his knees, he tried to push her away. "Go." He drew in a ragged breath. "Hide while you can."
"I will not leave you."
"It is not a debate!"
Tears scraped in her throat as she glanced toward the tunnel. No way could she carry him back.
"Lass—"
"You risked your life to free me. Do not ask me to leave you now. I will not."
His mouth thinned into a stubborn line. "There is nowhere to hide."
She nodded toward where several small boulders jutted from the earth. "We will lay behind them." Half stumbling, she helped him hide behind the rocks. Though only waist high, they provided a degree of cover. As long as the me
n passed at a distance, they would remain unseen.
The earth trembled as the riders closed.
A man shouted.
Isabel tensed as she lay beside Duncan. "Do you think Frasyer's knights spotted us?"
"They are too far away."
She started to rise.
Duncan caught her arm. "What are you doing?"
"I am going to look."
He hesitated, his breathing harsh. "Be careful, lass."
Kneeling against the stone, Isabel peeked above the boulder. She dropped beside Duncan. "They are headed straight toward us!"
"Be damned!"
When Frasyer's knights discovered them, how was she going to explain Duncan's presence? Numerous reasons came to mind. She discarded each and every one. However untrue, Frasyer would believe Duncan's releasing her from the dungeon was driven by amorous intent. Frasyer knew of her love for Duncan, of how it'd remained steadfast over time. He'd savoured every moment of Duncan's belief that she'd broken their vows for Frasyer's wealth.
After uncovering her clandestine meeting with Symon and her father only days ago, Frasyer would believe she'd been meeting with Duncan all along. Once he'd questioned his guards and learned no priest had taken a lad to penance, Frasyer would deduct how Duncan had slipped through his castle's defences.
"Here." Duncan pressed a dagger into her hands. "In case you need it."
Fear threatened to freeze her, she squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them. "I am sorry to have drawn you into this."
He shot her a hard stare. "Aye, with me you have made many a mistake." He shifted into a crouch, visibly weak. Yet, his weapon was readied. "Get ready, lass."
The cold rock pressed against her back as the steady thrum of hooves increased. Yes, she had made many mistakes when it came to Duncan, but now she wondered if her biggest one was not turning to him for help when Frasyer had first pressed her father for Isabel to become his mistress.
Too late to worry about choices made in the past. Now, nothing good would come from the revelation.
Still, she couldn't stand here and do nothing. Duncan's face was covered with sweat. His hand trembled around the hilt of his sword. Though he believed himself able, he was too weak to fight.
"Listen to me," she whispered. "I am going to crawl a distance from here, then I will give myself up. They will not know you were involved in my escape. Once they take me away, head toward your brother's home." She dreaded returning to Frasyer, and the harsh treatment he would deliver, but no other opdon remained.
His Woman (Zebra Historical Romance) Page 7
