Tempest in the Highlands (The Scottish Relic Trilogy) Page 11

  Then she saw him. The red-bearded man, standing in a gray cloak in front of one of the huts. This was so much like her vision that she expected flames to burst from the earth and whirling flocks of frenzied birds to appear.

  Her blood ran cold, spreading through her body, numbing each limb.

  The mists eddied about him. Miranda couldn’t tell if what she saw was a physical presence or if it was in her mind. Was she having a vision with her eyes wide open?

  He held out his staff. Come with me.

  The words were in her head. The words repeated again and she couldn’t quiet the deep voice.

  She took an involuntary step back, and then cried out as the earth beneath her feet gave way.

  Chapter 14

  At the sound of Miranda’s scream, Rob scrambled out of the hut.

  He could see only her head and shoulders above the ground at the center of the village, and she was scratching at the soil with both hands, trying to gain some hold.

  It wasn’t working.

  He sprinted toward her. As he got closer, he saw a gaping hole had opened up under her. She was scrabbling desperately to hold on. He dove toward her and she slipped lower. She was holding on to the edge by her fingertips, but could not hang on. As she dropped, he reached down, grabbing for anything. He caught hold of her flailing wrist.

  “Hold on,” he gasped, realizing that he was slipping into the hole himself.

  “Don’t let go,” she pleaded, looking up into his face.

  “I won’t.”

  He felt along the edge for something to secure himself. Finding a stone set into the ground, he dug his fingers into it and tried to pull her up. The stone gave way, and the next moment they were both tumbling down some dark pit that seemed to have no bottom.

  Then, unexpectedly, they hit water. Brine filled his mouth and nose and they sank far beneath the black surface.

  When Rob’s hands hit a stone bottom, he turned and kicked back toward the top. Miranda was trying to right herself, thrashing in the deep water. He caught hold of her and took her up with him.

  They broke through the surface, gasping for air.

  Rob pulled her to his side, treading water and clearing away the debris floating around them. They were in a well-like structure, but the width of the shaft was almost twice his reach on either side. He looked at the steep stone walls that narrowed to the small opening at the very top. They’d fallen a long way. They never would have survived it if the water at the bottom hadn’t been as deep as it was.

  Miranda pushed her hair back from her face. “Did you see him?”

  “Not that bloody giant again?”

  She shook her head. “A cloaked man with long red beard.”

  “I didn’t see him.” Rob hadn’t looked. From the moment he heard her cry for help, his focus had been only on Miranda. “He must have seen us fall into this blasted well. Maybe he’ll help get us out.”

  They both looked up at the opening and the gray sky above. There was no one in sight. No one calling down to them. Rob shouted and the echo of his own voice was the only answer.

  “He called to me, but I backed away,” she said.

  In the dim light, he saw her staring wide-eyed at the walls. She glanced up again and Rob saw the tightly clenched jaw, the nervous tension in her arms and shoulders.

  “Was he offering help?”

  “I . . . I don’t know what he was offering.” She was beginning to tremble. “Actually, I don’t know if he really even called to me. It felt like his voice was in my head. Maybe I imagined him. He was there, but he wasn’t. The mist . . . I just don’t know.”

  She pulled away, treading water and moving to the wall. He saw her touch the stones, swim along the perimeter of the shaft, and look up.

  “I can’t climb this,” she said.

  No one could. He studied the ancient stonework. There was no foothold. No stones protruded enough to be of use in climbing out. Just a smooth wall of rock, coated near the bottom with slick green slime and sea moss.

  “There’s no way to get out of here, is there?”

  Rob heard the note of panic creeping into her voice. He remembered how upset she’d been when he dragged her out of the narrow crevice yesterday. He’d attributed it to being attacked by the giant warrior, but now he realized it was something else. “We’ll find a way.”

  “There’s not enough air.” Her breaths were coming quicker. She slid one hand against the wall of the shaft again.

  Rob went to her. She was trembling. Her eyes were open wide, and she kept looking anxiously at the opening far above. He’d met men before who were afraid of enclosed spaces. Miranda had somehow managed to work below deck on the Peregrine. But this was much worse, with the water and her helplessness. He needed to keep her calm.

  “Look at me, Miranda.”

  She moved away from him, clawing at the wall. She was an excellent swimmer. Still he saw her chin dip under the surface. Her teeth were chattering. The water was cold, but not unbearable, and Rob guessed she was fighting a more difficult battle than simply staying afloat.

  His fingers found a space between two stones in the shaft wall, and he used it to hold himself up.

  “Miranda.” He turned her around, forcing her to face him. “Look at me.”

  She was trying to take deep breaths, but she clearly couldn’t get enough air. Her wide-eyed expression bespoke her panic. She tried to push him away.

  “Listen to me, Miranda.” Rob reached around her, bringing her body against his to steady her. “Do as I do. Breathe as I do.”

  “Let me go. I can’t.”

  “Watch me,” he murmured. “Trust me.”

  He slowed his breathing, making it shallower. She watched his lips, trying to imitate him.

  “Very good,” he told her. “Keep going and don’t try to talk. Look only at me.”

  The dim light filtering down from above fell on her face. He pushed her hair back behind one ear. He admired her beautiful eyes and her lips as she tried to follow his instructions.

  “Well done. Keep going and try to relax your arms and shoulders. I have you. I’ll keep both of us afloat.”

  She was slow to trust him. Rob took her arms and drew them around his neck, continuing to encourage the shallow breathing. She was following his directions. And for the first bloody time, he thought.

  He brought her even more snugly against his body. Her legs pressed against his and he wondered how long it had been since her breasts had been free of the cloth bindings she wore beneath the tunic.

  Get hold of yourself, he thought. They were trapped underground, trying to stay afloat in a shaft filled with cold seawater, and his cock was hardening.

  He reached up and smoothed the frown on her forehead, caressed the flickering muscles of her clenched jaw. He slipped his hand back around her waist.

  “Let go. Look at me, Miranda. Let go.”

  Her eyes lifted to his. Their faces were so close. Her breathing had become normal again. He saw her eyelids close slightly, and his arm tightened around her.

  He couldn’t stop himself. He pressed his lips against hers.

  One moment, Miranda was gasping for more air. The next, her very existence depended on how close she could get to him. The touch of his lips freed her mind and made her body soar. The tension gripping her limbs and her lungs melted away in an instant. She shivered involuntarily and her arms tightened around his neck.

  Hawk’s mouth moved back and forth over her burning lips, urging them to open. Surrendering to his silent demand, she parted her lips. She heard the groan deep in his throat as he took a fistful of her hair and his tongue plunged deep into the soft recesses of her mouth.

  A silent thrill of desire raced through her. She’d never been kissed by a man before. But right now, all fears were forgotten. The trap in which they found themselves became trivial. Miranda allowed the rising hunger she had for him to erupt within her.

  Lost in the seductive play of his tongue, the heat of hi
s embrace, and his roaming hand, she responded with passion.

  He lifted her higher in his arms and pulled her legs around his hips.

  Her body ached for his touch, her heart pounded, and her mind whirled in the closeness of his embrace. Miranda gave another low moan of surrender as he deepened the kiss.

  She didn’t know for how long they were lost in the kiss, but when he tore his mouth away, he was as breathless as she had been.

  “This is a dangerous game we’ve started,” he said.

  She understood what he was saying. It was impossible to not feel his erection pressing against her. Unwrapping her legs from his waist, she tried to float away, but his arm around her waist kept her close.

  “I don’t mean to scare you off,” he said. “But you’re too beautiful, too tempting, and I’m a man.” Hawk released his hold on the wall, and they floated together. His gaze never left her face. “But I want you to know you can trust me.”

  Even in the dim light of the well, Miranda could see his hazel eyes burning into hers. She’d had no self-control when it came to Hawk and that kiss. It was still somewhat incredible to her that he found her attractive, this man who could have any woman. There was no question in her mind how much he wanted her physically. Only now did she realize how distant any thought of restraint had been. At least one of them had the presence of mind and the sense to stop.

  She looked away and the sight of the stone wall immediately brought back some of her anxiety.

  “I’m sorry that I panicked,” she said, focusing on him and not the wall or how helpless their situation was, floating at the bottom of that shaft. “I don’t do well in places like this.”

  “You’re not to blame for that. But let’s not think of it. We shall get out of here.” He pointed to a row of stones. “Do you see this?”

  She looked at the green growth just above the waterline. “Sea moss.”

  “Tide.”

  “The water level is dropping,” she exclaimed. “We’re not in a well. This is sea water, not fresh water.”

  He nodded.

  The fact that the shaft was filled with salt water had occurred to her when they first fell in, but she hadn’t realized the significance of it until now.

  “And that means there must be a way for it to come in and go out,” she said.

  “One would think so.”

  He let go of her and his head disappeared beneath the surface. Miranda tried not to panic. As she focused on the sticks and other debris floating on the dark surface, she made herself employ those short, quick breaths that Hawk had showed her.

  She could do this. She could stay calm and maintain her sanity. Miranda recalled her first day working below decks on the Peregrine. Trapped there in the stifling heat of the galley, she’d made herself think only of the work she was doing and not the dark, steamy enclosure. Only days later, caught in that fissure on the ridge, she’d closed her eyes and imagined open fields, with Hawk beside her.

  Now she had something more vivid to think of. Their kiss. Despite the cold water, her face heated as she recalled the dance of their mouths and the way he held her.

  She was relieved when his head broke through the surface.

  “Come look,” he said.

  He took a deep breath and dived again. She followed him.

  Very little light got below the surface. About halfway down, he took her hand and pulled it toward the wall. She felt the narrow break in the stonework and ran her hands around an opening just wide enough for a person to slip through.

  Miranda reached in and felt the sea moss clinging to the top and sides of the passage. Her lungs were burning, and she shot to the surface.

  He was right behind her.

  “Can we go out that way?” she asked, seeing a glimmer of hope.

  “I only went in as far as I could reach,” he said. “It’s a tunnel that goes on for a ways. Maybe it leads directly to the sea . . . or maybe not. But there’s no way of knowing how far it goes, and there’s no room to turn around, at least at the beginning of the passage. We could drown before we get to the end.”

  The walls were squeezing in on her again. The opening above appeared to have moved even higher.

  “We don’t have any other choice,” she replied. “We have to try.”

  “We shall. But not while the tide is high,” he said quietly, lifting her chin and looking into her eyes. “We’ll wait and see if the water drops below that opening.”

  His gaze swept across her face, and he cradled her cheek in his hand.

  Miranda thought he might kiss her again, and she was disappointed when his fingers withdrew.

  He moved to the opposite side of the shaft, pressing his back against the stone, facing her. “Even if we fell in here sometime near high tide, we have less than six hours to wait.”

  The thought of waiting that long felt like a death sentence. Already her arms felt heavy. She was tired and cold. Her gaze was drawn to the opening at the top again. She took a deep breath, unable to gather enough air in her lungs.

  “We could take turns holding each other up, but I don’t know if I can handle the temptation,” he said.

  “What temptation?”

  He raised a brow. “It wasn’t my imagination. You were kissing me back.”

  Miranda took in the flash of a smile, and an unexpected warmth crept into her body. Her mouth was dry. What could she say? How foolish would she be to admit that she’d been attracted to him from the first moment she laid eyes on him? She shrugged and looked away.

  “It’s far less exciting, but we could just talk,” he suggested. “I had a mate on a ship before I took over the Peregrine who talked constantly when his nerves got the best of him. Unfortunately, that was most of the time.”

  Miranda guessed it might work. She already knew any type of distraction was better than focusing on the walls.

  “There isn’t much that I care to tell you about myself,” she admitted.

  “I know you don’t trust me. You’ve made that clear.”

  She looked at his arms spread against the wall. The dark hair was slicked back from his face, and his eyes continued to study her. Her heart and mind were divided on how she felt about Hawk. One told her to follow her impulses; the other urged caution.

  “Very well,” he continued. “Perhaps I can put you more at ease. Tell me what’s on your mind. Ask your questions.”

  “And you’ll answer them?”

  “Try me.”

  Miranda recalled all she’d heard in the village about the English butcher who had killed so many good people, along with her father.

  “I don’t believe what you told me about why you stopped at Tarbert Castle. Perhaps we can start there.”

  “Is it so hard to believe that I was following a rogue commander?” he asked. “I told you I stopped because I thought he’d been there.”

  “Evers has an army. And regardless of what you say, he kills, slithers away like the snake he is, regroups, and kills again. And that benefits the English king.” She looked him in the eye. “And even if it’s true that your King Henry wants him, why send you? Why not send an army to capture the man? I’ve seen how many men you have on board the Peregrine. It’s not enough. How are you going to take him?”

  Hawk’s immediate silence told Miranda that she had asked the right questions. He continued to study her, and his frown was somber.

  “I’m going to trust you with a secret,” he said finally.

  Miranda’s life was all about secrets. “I am quite adept at keeping them.”

  “I believe you are,” he replied. “I wasn’t commissioned to take Evers.”

  “Then what were you doing there?”

  “My task is to kill him.”

  She tried to hide her skepticism, but she wasn’t convinced. “How are you going to do that? His men still outnumber yours.”

  “Once I find him, there will be no battle. No large-scale bloodshed. It will be just Evers and me.”

  She stared i
nto eyes that had suddenly turned cold and tried to understand what he was telling her.

  “The Crown pays me to kill, Miranda. I kill men that King Henry sees as a threat . . . to him or to England. I’ve done this work before. Many times.”

  Miranda pressed her back against the stones and found a very narrow edge she could just grip. Her chin dipped into the water, but there was nowhere she could go.

  “Now you know the truth.”

  “Nay, I don’t,” she replied quickly, realizing she had to keep talking and make him believe that she could handle what she’d been told. “How . . . who have you killed? How do you do it?”

  Once again, he studied her for a few heartbeats. She wondered if he could sense how terrified she felt.

  “There is little honor in it. For the most part, they don’t even see it coming. I can’t tell you their names. They have all been traitors, men who deserved to die. But to take them openly with an armed company would have cost the lives of many common folk who would have perished in battle.”

  “How did you kill them? A dagger in the back? Your bare hands? Push them off a cliff?”

  “It depends on the situation. Sometimes I do it myself. Other times, I have to hire others to finish the job. But I orchestrate it all.”

  Whatever fear she had of the cramped space of the well was nothing to the realization that the relic she carried—the power of seeing into the future—would be so valuable to a man like Hawk. And all he had to do to claim it was to kill her and hold the stone.

  “Tell me,” she said.

  “One nobleman who was planning to raise an army against the king had a weakness for very young wenches who were procured for him at a certain tavern,” he said. “One night, instead of some poor lass waiting for him in that upstairs room, he found six men I hired who stabbed the blackguard to death.”

  Miranda said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

  “Another time, a knight of some standing had been hired by a certain nobleman to assassinate the king, but he failed in the attempt. He was captured before he even got close. Before any word of it got out, I substituted myself for the would-be killer and went to meet the nobleman at the appointed place where the knight was to be paid. I put my dagger in his heart. There were other times, other methods of completing my task. But you get the idea.”