Page 69 of Highland Spy

Connor drew in a breath of musty air and pushed the door so it eased open despite its long, protesting groan. He entered the room and stopped.

His heart slid like ice into the recesses of his belly.

What was once orderly was now flung about the room in a haphazard display of chaos. Of struggle.

One that led to great violence and the dark patches still staining the aged floor.

Blood.

Chapter 17

Somehow the rain was as cold as the persistent snow had been two months before.

Ariana pulled the plaid tighter around her shoulders and tried to press against her horse in an effort to share warmth. The beast turned his head back and gave a little grumble, but did not pull away.

Rain sluiced from the thick bands of wood overhead and splashed over them in several great spouts of water. Perhaps standing under the structure was actually worse than being in the rain itself.

Ariana huffed at the white knuckles of her fingers where they rested in balled fists under her chin. The warmth of her breath whisked over her skin for barely a moment before being replaced with cold wetness once more.

She stared at the wall Connor had disappeared over. He’d climbed it with such grace, he’d made it appear easy—though she was sure it was not.

A loud screech wrenched her attention back to the portcullis in front of her, which gave way to a squeal of aged metal against aged metal, and slowly the great bars began to lift.

The horse shuddered beside her and flicked his ears back.

Without waiting for Connor to appear, Ariana urged the horses toward the great arched entryway of the castle. Underneath, it was as thick as three men were tall, and finally shielded them from the rain.

Her sigh of relief slipped out in a white curl of frozen air.

The loud screech sounded again and the portcullis closed with a heavy bang, locking them within the confines of the castle.

Connor appeared then, his shoulders hunched against the onslaught of the storm. He took the reins of both horses from her without speaking and strode into the open courtyard.

A large part of Ariana did not wish to follow. True, she was cold and so hopelessly wet, a few more drops would hardly matter. But finally being out of the driving rain only to have to plunge into it once more was more than she could bear.

She didn’t want the rain to plaster her hair against her face and trickle into the scant warmth of her bodice like cruel fingers of ice.

She didn’t want to expose herself to the merciless wind sweeping through her skin to leave her very bones raw with chill.

And she didn’t want to enter the darkness of the massive castle and feel its clammy press of stories she did not want to hear told.

But Connor walked into the assault of all these things with his steady, sure pace, and she would rather die than appear a coward.

She followed behind him with quick steps.

Fortunately the walk was not long, and soon they were within the stable. The stalls were empty and the entire building was dark. The hollow cold suggested neither man nor beast had been within its confines for some time.

A shiver ran down her back, though this time it had little to do with the wind or rain.

They worked in silence, settling their horses in for the night. Queries about the castle and why it was empty were on the tip of Ariana’s tongue, but the hard mask of Connor’s face kept her silent.

There had been a change in him since the night they’d sparred. Since she told him no.

She did not regret it. In fact, she did not even think her refusing him was what had angered him.

A great part of him was similar to her. If she was correct in her assumption, she knew him to be angry with himself.

And she would not fault herself for his personal castigation.