Page 89 of Sins of the Highlander

Rob was gone.

Even though her head still pounded, she dragged herself from bed. With haste, she donned the skirt and leather bodice she’d worn when she and Rob arrived at Caisteal Dubh. She needed the broad skirt if she was to ride astride, assuming the horses hadn’t been turned out of the cave. Then she rifled through Lady MacLaren’s clothes trunk and found the warm cloak Rob had mentioned. As he described it, the cloak had a hood with a wee tassel and a fine copper brooch.

She plumped a pair of pillows and arranged them to mock a sleeping form. After she pocketed the tinderbox, she blew out the candle Rob had left burning. Then she slipped under the tapestry.

It was the first time she’d been in Rob’s chamber. The room was smaller than the one he’d assigned to her, the furnishings less ornate and more masculine. But there was a fireplace on the outer wall for heat instead of braziers. And the ceiling soared clear to the distant thatch on the top of the turret.

The massive bed looked soft and inviting.

What would Rob do if he found her snuggled between his sheets when he returned after supper? A number of wicked possibilities sprang to mind, and her body felt hot and achy at the mere thought.

This is the chamber where he bedded his wife, she realized suddenly.

The fact that he invited Elspeth to join him in this very bed must mean the madness that drove him at first was fading. His wife’s ghost troubled him less and less. Elspeth wished she could stay and love away that last bit of bitterness and anger and grief from his heart.

But the only way to show Rob she loved him was to leave as quickly as possible. It was all she could think to do to stop her vision from coming to pass.

She lifted the latch and peered into the corridor. The space was empty, since Albus was around the curve of the wall, guarding her chamber. With extreme care, she pushed the door open and padded out and down the steps, running her fingertips along the stone walls to keep her bearings, since she didn’t dare a candle.

On the ground floor, she skirted the Great Hall and stepped into the bailey. Keeping to the shadows, she worked her way around the half-timbered buildings to the chapel.

Candles burned in the nave. She picked one up and carried it with her into the sanctuary. Stone angels stared down at her from the tops of columns before the ceiling soared in a high arch. No one seemed to be about, so she hurried to the altar and slipped beneath the cloth.

I have to find a way to move the stone.

Lifting her candle, she studied the underside of the altar. Next to the hidden pulley and rope, she found a stout metal bar fastened to the underside of the altar. It seemed to be part of the construction, but the bar slid out from its fastenings easily.

Then she felt for the seam in the stone and wedged the sharp end of the bar into it. The stone lifted enough for her to slip her fingertips underneath it. She raised it another couple inches and then slid the flagstone off the opening with a grunt of effort.

And heard the sudden patter of footsteps. She pinched off the candle and froze in the darkness, ears pricked as the steps came nearer.

“There doesn’t seem to be anyone here,” someone whispered.

“I’m sure I heard something,” another voice said.

“This old chapel has many voices. Ye should hear the way the wind plays tricks on me sometimes.”

“Or mayhap the devil’s trying to spy on our meeting.”

“They do say the Prince of Darkness favors the hour of shadows. Perhaps we should speak more later. In daylight. And no’ here, ye ken,” the first voice said. “A witch knows where her enemies may be found.”

A witch? What on earth are they talking about?

“Verra wise, verra wise,” the second voice said, but something about the hissed tone made Elspeth suspect the person speaking wasn’t sincere. “I’ll see ye on the morrow, then. After the laird parleys with the Stewart and Drummond again. Then we’ll see what’s what. Good even, Father.”

“God send ye rest.”

Two pairs of footfalls moved away from the sanctuary, heading in different directions, judging by sound. Elspeth waited until silence reigned for the count of thirty before she twitched so much as an eyelash.

Then she uncoiled the rope attached to the underside of the altar and let it drop into the dark opening. She swung her legs over the edge. She could see nothing below.

Something inside her shivered, and not with cold.

’Tis only a dark space. Nothing to fear, she thought sternly as she started to lower herself. Then her grip on the rope slipped, and she slid the rest of the way down, burning her palms. She landed in a heap at the bottom. Her thigh screamed in pain, and she suspected such rough treatment would have it bleeding again.

Elspeth didn’t move for the space of several heartbeats. She strained to listen for any sound that indicated her descent was heard from above. Or attracted attention from anything that might lurk below.

Finally, she stood and felt for the torch. She’d simply dropped it after she stubbed it out when she and Rob used this secret way to enter the castle. It wasn’t there. Then she remembered that there were wall notches at the entrance to the cave. If Rob used the torch when he saw to the horses, he’d have replaced it in a holder on the wall when he was done.