“There is nay reason to thank me.” Cailin ordered himself to stand, to leave her alone, reviewed every reason why. Needing to touch her, he brushed his mouth against hers.
“Sir Cailin, Elspet?” Father Lamond called from outside.
Straw flew as Cailin jerked back. God’s blade, what was he thinking? “We are safe,” he called out. Blood still pounding hot, he shoved to his feet, extended his hand to help her up, then took a much-needed step back. The desire and confusion in her eyes helped little in his struggle to keep from hauling her against him. Blast it! “I…” What should he say,I did nae mean to kiss you?This was wrong?
An understatement.
He hadn’t meant to touch her, except with her taste lingering on his tongue, his body ached for her. Frustrated and aggravated with himself and his seemingly unstoppable reaction to her, he floundered for what to say. In the end, deciding ’twas prudent to remain silent, Cailin strode across the stable and tuggedthe door open.
Relief swept the priest’s face as he shoved his cowled hood back. “Thank God. Years have passed since any of the earl’s men have dared to ride to my home.” He shook his head. “Given your uncle’s desperation since your return to Dalkirk, I should have expected his guards.”
As should have Cailin. But ’twas too late to worry about that now. “They found naught, which is what is important. Nor will it matter if they come back for another search. Elspet and Ileave at dawn.”
Her soft steps came up behind him, and she paused at his side, brushing the dried grassfrom her hair.
The priest tsked as he took her in. “You look pale, lass. I think a couple more days’ restwould be wise.”
“There is little pain in my ankle, and I need to see my stepbrother, or at least discover his fate.”
With a sigh, Father Lamond nodded. “One of the men I recommended you speak with should know where he is, or at least how he is.”
She nodded, but Cailin saw the tension in her eyes. Nor did he miss that she kept her gaze averted from his. Regardless if he was drawn to her, it wasn’t a train of thought he could allow. Once he’d claimed his legacy, he would rejoin the Bruce until his sovereign had smothered the last ofthe resistance.
“Come,” the priest said, breaking into his thoughts, “we dinna want to linger where anyone could see us.” He hurried toward the cottage, Elspet on his heels.
Cailin grimaced. What he should have thought of. Irritated at his unsuitable thoughts, he scanned the area one last time. Thankful for no sign of the knights, he followed them into the cottage.
* * * *
A day later, the musty tang of damp, stale air filled the secret tunnel leading to Tiran Castle. The wash of candlelight exposed the dank, cobweb-littered walls as Cailin made his way, ever on alert. ’Twould seem a long while since anyone had used the passageway. Yet, after their near confrontation with his uncle’s men yesterday, nor would he relax his guard.
The steady plop of water echoed overhead.
Behind him, Elspet’s soft footfalls sounded.
He lifted the taper higher. Droplets clung to the ceiling, wobbled, then fell with a plop upon the ground. With a grimace, he glanced behind him.
The monk’s robe, a match to the one he wore, shielded Elspet’s face and any sign of her hair from view. As an extra precaution, he’d smeared a dusting of soot on her chin to keep any who caught sight of her from identifyingher as a woman.
A while later, as the ground began to angle upward, the faint nicker of a horse echoed down the tunnel.
“We are nearing the stable,” he said.
“Aye. I pray we willna have to wait long to see one of the men Father Lamond suggestedwe speak with.”
At the worry in her voice, Cailin looked over. “Dinna worry, we will learn what happened to Blar.” And prayed they would discover her stepbrother was alive. She’d lost so much, and he understood how losing the last tie of family, especially through treachery, could leaveone devastated.
The scent of horse and hay filled the air as they grew closer. The clatter of hooves sounded, a momentlater a whinny.
“Steady, lad,” a deepvoice soothed.
“’Tis the stablemaster,” Elspet whispered.
“Aye, and not one of the men we are to trust.” Cailin moved to the tunnel’s hidden exit, the entry secured with a false door hidden in a complex weave of stone. He peered through the slits crafted long ago, allowing whoever looked to survey the entire stable along with thecastle grounds.
Memories rolled through Cailin as he took in the familiar setting, from the lists where the knights practiced, the wall walk where guards patrolled, to the bailey where people moved about at their daily tasks.
An ache built in his chest. So long ago he’d taken his family and clan for granted. He’d had a home and had felt loved and secure until, through deceit, Gaufrid had stolen it from him
