Frustration warred with exhaustion and pain. There was nothing here. Nothing. He banged his fist against the floor.
There was a hollow echo beneath him.
It took precious minutes to clear the earth away. He realized now that it had been disturbed recently. It wasn’t packed solid like the rest of the floor. It gave easily under his clawing fingers, but there was so much of it…so much.
Calling Billie’s name, he struggled with a plank. He summoned what strength he had left for a single, powerful heave. The plank gave way, then the one beside it.
“Billie!”
Now he clearly heard weeping.
“Billie, it’s Iain.”
There was silence.
“It’s Iain. Billie, it’s me. Alasdair’s dead. I’m going to get you out.”
“Iain…?”
His heart began to pound harder, faster. She was there. Alive. “Are you hurt?”
“Iain…” She began to sob again. Wild, wrenching cries that tore him apart.
“I’m right above you. You’ve got to help me. I can’t do this without you. Be brave a little longer. I’m going to get you out. I can’t see anything. How far down are you?”
“Candles… There are candles there.”
“Where, do you know?”
“On a ledge.”
“I’ll look. Talk to me while I do.”
“Alasdair…”
“Alasdair fell from the tower. He can’t hurt you again.” He stood and felt his way to the wall, moving around the room as he felt for a ledge. When he found it, he searched until he came across something wedged into a crack in the wall. It was a tin of some sort, and when the top snapped open he felt half a dozen narrow candles and a box of matches.
“I’ve got them. Billie, be brave. I’m going to get you out.”
Feeling his way, he crawled back to the center. He buried the bottoms of two of the candles in the mounds of earth he’d piled to one side and lit them both. “Can you see the light?”
“Iain…”
He lit another and held it over the opening. He could see the top of her head, but she was too far below him to grab. There were wardrobes at Fearnshader that were wider than the space where she was huddled, and the opening leading into the dungeon was long and treacherously narrow. His skin crawled. She was obviously terrified. His brave and beautiful woman.
His mind raced for a way to rescue her. But he couldn’t reach her, and he was too weak to pull her up with a rope—even if he could find one.
“Take deep breaths. You’ve plenty of air now. Breathe, Billie.”
“He said he was going to kill you….”
Tears tightened in his chest and throat. “Well, he didn’t.” He felt in the tin for the remainder of the candles. Now he knew what he had to do. He buried them at intervals around the opening. He couldn’t leave her there while he went for help. She couldn’t wait for rescue. If he left her, it would be twenty minutes or more before he could return—if he remained conscious that long. She was so frightened.
“I’m coming down.” He stripped off his jacket, afraid that he might get stuck if he wore it. Twentieth century men were larger than their medieval counterparts, and the opening to the dungeon hadn’t widened with time.
“No! No, Iain!”
“Move to one side.”
He tossed the jacket in, watching carefully how long it took to fall. If he was wrong about the dungeon’s depth, they were going to die together.
But he wasn’t wrong. The jacket fell beside her in seconds. The dungeon was carved from rock, but through the centuries dirt had sifted in and raised the floor. He lay flat and swung his feet toward the opening. Then with a push he slid down to join her.
She was in his arms before he had fully landed. His hands trembled as he held her. She was sobbing so hard she couldn’t speak.
The space seemed to close in around them. There was hardly room to maneuver. “Listen, Billie.” He threaded his fingers through her hair and tilted her head back. “You have to listen.”
He watched her struggle for control. She nodded, but her eyes were wild.
“There’s only one way out now. You have to get on my shoulders and climb out. It’s going to be close, but you can do it. Once you’re out, drive back to Fearnshader. Take Mara’s car, or Alasdair’s. His keys are on the boot. Ring Duncan and Andrew. Ring Constable Terrill. Send them to get me.”
“Iain…” Her fingers traced his face as if she were still trying to be sure it was really him. Her voice was husky with tears and terror. “I was so scared you were dead.”
He held her for a moment. He could feel her heart pounding unevenly against his. “I want you to stand. Just under the opening there. I’ll get beneath you, and I want you to straddle my shoulders. As I rise, use your hands to propel yourself into the right position. When I’m on my feet, I’ll grab your ankles and lift you to my shoulders. But I’m weak, Billie. We may have only one chance.”
She nodded. Her fingers continued to flutter over his face. “He hurt you. The bastard!”
“Not badly enough.” His lips touched hers; he whispered against them. “I stayed alive to find you.”
“I can’t leave you here.”
He kissed her quickly. Her lips trembled beneath his. He could feel the terror in every part of her that touched him. “You have very little choice. It’s up to you now to save us both.”
“I love you, Iain.”
Her voice wobbled with emotion. He could hear her struggle to be brave. Whatever resolve he’d been left with crumbled. “You’re my heart. My woman.”
“Iain…”
He set her away from him, as far as he could. Then he motioned for her to crawl beneath the opening and stand. “One chance. Let’s make this work.”
She positioned herself and rose to her feet. He crawled beneath her and settled her legs around his neck. Then, with every bit of his waning strength, he pushed himself to stand. He wavered. The effort was more than he’d expected. He saw bright colors and flashes of light, but he strained on. His hands closed around her ankles. “Now!”
She scrambled to his shoulders, weaving dangerously. He moved back and forth to steady her. He could hear her soft cries. One foot settled against his hair, and she pushed against his skull.
He crumpled to the floor in agony. The lights faded, colors spun like a pinwheel he had loved as a child. “Billie…”
Darkness fell. He gave in to it with something close to pleasure.
CHAPTER 17
Dr. Angus Sutherland lowered his substantial bulk to the bed that Iain had recently vacated. “I can no’ forgive myself, lad. We should have seen it. One of us should have seen.”
Iain finished packing the few clothes that had been brought to the hospital from Fearnshader four days before. “We none of us saw it, Angus. Alasdair hid his insanity well. He was warped by a childhood he had no control over and his belief that my family had caused all his misfortune. His pain festered until it erupted.”
“Aye, but if I’d just seen it…”
“There’s nothing you could have done.” Iain faced him. “Have you found someone to replace him?”
“Next week I’m interviewing a young woman with a husband and two wee bairns. And no ties to the village. I made certain.”
“A good choice. You won’t bully a woman so badly.”
Angus humphed to cover a smile. “You’re certain you’re ready to go home, lad? You had a particularly nasty concussion. I will never know how you found the strength to fight off a murdering madman and rescue Billie.”
Billie, whom Iain hadn’t seen since his own rescue. Each day he had expected her, and each day she had stayed away. She was well. That much he knew. And still in Druidheachd. Beyond that he knew nothing.
“She was a powerful incentive,” he said, placing the last shirt in his case.
“You will no’ forget to take things slowly? You may still have dizzy spells from time to time. No hearty exercise.
No driving your car for at least a week. Plenty of sleep. And a phone call to me if you suddenly have more pain than you’re having now?”
“I promise.” Iain turned. “Angus…”
“Aye?”
“When I went to the castle, before I knew that Billie was in trouble…” He stopped, unsure how to proceed.
“What? Did something happen?”
“I saw things…I couldn’t have seen.” Iain watched Angus closely, waiting for his reaction.
“What sort?”
“A scene from the past. And not my own. Another time, when Ceo Castle stood whole and proud.”
“And what came from that vision?”
“I realized that Billie was in danger, and that I had to save her.”
Angus sat forward. “And now you’re afraid that you’ve begun to slip into insanity, as your father did.”
Iain gave a short, reluctant nod.
Angus’s gaze softened. “Iain, lad. There was a time when I might have thought you had reason to worry, before I had lived in these bens and braes and seen all that I have. But now I know there are many more things that we dinna understand than those we do.”
“Then you don’t think…?”
“No. I dinna.” Angus stood and clapped Iain on the back. “Go home, Iain. I’ll expect you back in a day or two for a quick look over. And in three months for the wee talk we’ve scheduled.”
“Thank you.”
“Get away with you now.” Angus’s voice was husky. “And I’m glad you have nowt more than a bump on your skull and some bruises to show for all you’ve been through.”
In the corridor Iain accepted Jeanne Sutherland’s good wishes and those of another hospital patient. Duncan and Andrew were waiting in the reception area. They stood as one when he walked through the doorway.
“I think he looks pale and frail,” Andrew said. “What do you think, Dunc?”
“At least he’s on his feet and not napping at the bottom of a cozy hole in the ground. What some people won’t do for a little privacy.”
Iain strode to them and enclosed them both in a bear hug. Something clutched at his throat. “Thank you for coming. Now and before.”
The two men were silent; the hugs were huge.
Finally Iain stepped away. “I’m ready.”
“Are you sure you want to go back to Fearnshader?” Duncan asked. “Mara insists you come to the hotel so she can keep an eye on you.”
“And I would no’ mind the company at my place,” Andrew said.
“No. Thank you both, but I want to go home.”
The two men caught him up on village news as Duncan drove them toward Fearnshader. “Carlton-Jones seems to have stopped trying to get folk with loch cottages to sell,” Andrew said.
“That’s because I believed he was the one who’d started the fire on the moor. I threatened him, and I suppose that, at least temporarily, he’s taken me seriously. But he’ll be back, Andrew. His kind always are.”
“Then the fire was Alasdair’s doing?”
“Aye. He helped his father burn off land when he was a wee lad. He knew exactly what to do and how to do it. Apparently the constable found enough supplies at his house to burn half a dozen moors.”
“And the brakes on your car?”
“Most likely Alasdair, too. He was there at the wedding that night. And Angus told the constable that Alasdair was as good a mechanic as a doctor.”
“Jeremy Fletcher was arrested in Spain yesterday,” Duncan said. “Drug trafficking. Seems our boy’s been smuggling cocaine for years. He has a long list of offenses and a longer list of enemies. It’s unlikely you’ll ever have to worry about him again.”
“How did you hear that?”
Both men were silent.
Iain’s suspicions grew. “I was having him watched. Were you having him watched, too? To protect me?”
“Iain was always sure he was more important to us than he really was. Don’t you remember?” Duncan asked Andrew.
“Aye, I remember a time…”
* * *
Billie confirmed her flight to Florida for the following Monday. “Now, you’re sure Steuart doesn’t mind driving me to Glasgow to catch the train?” she asked a loitering Flora after she hung up the telephone.
“I told ye before, lass. He’s business there.”
“Then I guess I’m all set.”
“No’ quite.”
Billie knew what was coming. “I don’t want to hear anything about Iain, Flora.”
“He’s out of hospital. Just this morning.”
“I know.” Billie bit her lip. She hadn’t intended to let that slip.
“And how do ye?”
“I called Jeanne Sutherland. I couldn’t leave without knowing he was all right.”
“You owe him yer thanks face-to-face.”
“I’ll write him.”
“A letter’s poor thanks for saving yer life.”
“Trust me, Flora, he doesn’t want to see me.”
“Trust ye?” Flora made a noise that united myriad cultures. “You dinna trust yerself. Should I trust a woman so torn between what she wants and what she fears that she can no’ even say a simple thank ye?”
Torn between what she wanted and what she feared. The words had a familiar ring. Billie had said something similar to Iain.
Flora shook her head. “Ye will no’ forgive yourself if ye dinna see him one last time.”
Billie had been tempted to go to the hospital many times. But every time she had remembered that last scene in Iain’s conservatory. She didn’t think she could bear another. Iain loved her; she was sure of that now. But his fears for the future were stronger.
Flora touched her shoulder. “Go to him.”
“I don’t have a car. I’ll call him.”
Flora reached in her pocket. “Steuart’s keys.”
Billie’s eyes widened. “Does he know?”
“Aye. And he’s resigned.” When Billie didn’t reach for them, Flora took her hand and placed them inside, locking her fingers around them. “But Steuart’s no’ patient, lass. Ye’ll have to go soon, or ye’ll miss yer chance. The car’s parked on the road.” She left the room.
Billie stared down at her hand. For days she had been asking herself what could hurt worse than losing Iain forever. For days she had almost convinced herself that another terrible confrontation was the answer.
Her hours in the dungeon had affected her courage. She had been sure that she would die there, buried in a hole beneath the earth. She had shivered and whimpered and cried out for Iain. She had almost allowed Alasdair to destroy her. But Alasdair was dead, and unless she went to see Iain one last time, she would always know that because of him, she had given in to cowardice at the most important time in her life.
She made her decision. She slid on her jacket with trembling fingers; the car key trembled as she stuck it in the ignition. But by the time she had slowly followed the loch road and pulled into Fearnshader’s drive, she had gained a fragile composure. She would see this through. Whatever the outcome. Because not to was to give a dead man control of her life.
She parked and started up the walk. The door opened before she could knock, and Gertie stood there.
Billie held up her hands. “I don’t have an ounce of fight left in me.”
“Come in, Miss.” Gertie pulled her inside. She didn’t let go of Billie’s arms after she’d kicked the door closed. “Let me look at you.”
“I thought you were gone for good.”
“An old woman’s foolishness. Are you well? Have you recovered?”
“Mostly.” She didn’t add that since the rescue she slept with her door open, and sometimes her window, despite the freezing temperature. She avoided cellars and dark closets, and even warm hugs that went on too long. But she had faith that would change as she readjusted. She would recover.
“Gertie, I want to see Iain, and I don’t want to fight you.”
Gertie dropped her hand.
“Fight me? And why would that be?”
“I know what you think of my family.”
“It was never you, nor your family, either. I’ve been told there were fine MacFarlanes here, as well as some who were no’ so fine. It was your safety and Master Iain’s that worried me.” Gertie paused. “It more than worried me,” she admitted. “I should no’ have carried on as I did. But Master Iain is like a son to me. And I watched his father take sick….”
Billie was touched. “It must have been terrible.”
“Master Iain’s in the sitting room. I threatened to lock him there if he does no’ stay put. He’s wandered the halls, back and forth, since he came home. And he needs rest.”
“I won’t stay long.”
“Stay as long as you like.” Gertie gave her an assessing look. Then she nodded. “Stay every bit as long.” She turned and started down the hall. At the door to the sitting room, Gertie stopped. “I’ll let you show yourself in,” she whispered. “And I will no’ be disturbing you.”
“Thank you.”
“Take good care of him.”
“You’re asking the impossible.”
“I dinna think so.”
Billie waited at the door until Gertie was gone. Then she knocked and opened it.
The room was lit only by the evening sunset and the flickering flames in the fireplace. Iain was sitting in front of it. He looked up, and for a moment there was naked emotion in his eyes. “Billie.”
“Hello, Iain.”
He started to his feet, but she waved him down. “I’m under orders to be sure you don’t overdo.”
“How are you?”
“As well as can be expected, I guess. A lot better than I’d be if you hadn’t found me.”
He sank back to his chair. “You look wonderful.”
“What about you?” She crossed the room and leaned against the fireplace. They were still miles apart. “Does your head hurt, or has that subsided?”
He shrugged. “For days I was sure my head had split into two pieces. Now at least I believe what I see in the mirror.”
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