Chapter 10
Daniel was dozing when Isabail entered the bedchamber to check on his injuries. Most of the wounds were healing well—scabs had formed and the new flesh was pink and healthy. Even the deep slice on his biceps showed the early signs of knitting well. But one cut, a gnawing on his left wrist, was angry red and oozing yellow pus.
Isabail cut away the putrid bandage and carefully cleansed the wound with a fresh linen cloth. She was studying the wound with a frown when Daniel opened his eyes.
He lifted his arm and peered at the bite. “It needs an aggressive treating,” he pronounced calmly. “Soak strips of linen in vinegar or wine and wrap them around my wrist.”
“Are you certain?”
“As certain as I am that if we do not do this, I will lose my hand,” he said with a faint smile.
When she returned with a bowl of vinegar, he was sitting up, his back against the stone wall.
“My apologies, Isabail.”
“For what?” she asked as she dipped the bandages in the bowl.
“I neglected to ask how you were. Muirne and I spent much of the night worried for your safety.”
“I am fine. A wee embarrassed perhaps, but otherwise unharmed.” She washed the wound with the wet linen.
“Would that I could have left my bed to go in search of you. You would not have spent long hours in despair.” He met her gaze. “Muirne informed me that you went into the tunnels alone.”
Isabail shrugged. “There is nothing more dangerous in the tunnels than a spider or two.”
He cocked his head. “But you got lost?”
“Nay, not lost,” she disputed. “Trapped.”
“Dear Lord. I truly did fail you,” he said. “Did a section of the tunnel collapse?”
“Nothing so dire,” she assured him.
Arching a brow, he waited for her to continue.
Isabail hesitated. Revealing her discovery of the crown did not feel right, even to Daniel, whom she trusted explicitly. “I stumbled upon a small room off the tunnel. Unfortunately, having found my way inside, I could not locate a way to exit.”
“You could not simply retrace your steps?”
She grimaced, reliving the terror she’d felt. “The door locked behind me.”
He took her hand and squeezed. “I should never have sent you looking for the necklace. Finding it is my cross to bear, not yours.”
Isabail agreed, but she did not have the heart to say so. Finding the necklace was important to Daniel—but not to her. She no longer believed MacCurran had the necklace. She smiled ruefully. “If only I had found the necklace, it would have made the ordeal worthwhile.”
“You saw no other evidence of a hidden cache? No locked chest? No shrouded repository?”
“I looked everywhere,” she said truthfully. “Searched every corner and crevasse. The necklace is not in the tunnels.”
“Forget the necklace. I’m just relieved that you were found.” He shook his head. “I would never have forgiven myself had anything befallen you. Promise me that you won’t take such risks again.”
“We cannot give up the search,” she said. As long as Daniel believed she was looking for the necklace, he would relax and let himself heal. “But now that I know how I triggered the door to lock, I will avoid decorative floor tiles if I ever see one again.”
His jaw dropped. “A floor tile caused the door to lock?”
She nodded. “The Picts were surprisingly skilled. The entrance to the room was a huge granite slab that pivots. Quite a feat.”
“I would enjoy seeing such a marvel,” Daniel said, as he watched her rebandage his arm. “Perhaps when I am on my feet again, you can show me.”
