Tense days for her.
She continually waited for him to appear.
He did not.
Yet she knew he came at night. Very late, she thought. She would find some subtle reminder that he was near.
The first morning,she found a bunch of wildflowers lying by her pillow. The second morning, the pillow by her head was indented, and she realized that he had lain beside her the night before, leaving behind a small, beautifully wrought Celtic cross on a delicate chain, a Douglas family heirloom, she was certain. The third morning, she found a delicate silk handkerchief—along with an empty brandy glass which sat upon the old trunk at the foot of the bed.
She wondered about the gifts, half-tempted to throw them one and all in the fire.
But he had left them for her. To taunt her, perhaps. No matter, she wore the cross, kept the flowers by her pillow and the handkerchief in her pocket.
It infuriated her that she found herself so pathetically unnerved and unable to sleep—then unable to awaken when he made his irritating appearances.
He was about, somewhere during the day, she knew. She was quite certain that he was slipping in and out of the office here as well as at the stables and the mines. He could probably even come and go from Castle MacGinnis as he chose, though she had never heard of secret passages within her own family’s home.
But what was he doing? What was he discovering?
She realized that although she was angered by his easy movements and although she dreaded their encounters in which he insisted on blaming her family for the evil afoot, she was anxious to see him again.
She didn’t want to long to see him.
But she did. In the most curious manner, she ached. He was in her thoughts day and night.
She heard footsteps coming hard and fast up the stairway to the second floor, and she spun away from the balcony, looking toward the office door as it was flung open. Alistair stood there, his handsome face completely free of any hint of a mischievous smile.
“There’s been an accident. At the mine,” he told her.
She walked quickly to him, ready to pass him to reach the stairway. “My god, what happened? How many men are down?”
“The men…”
“What? Tell me, Alistair, please?”
“There are three men in the shaft, but the others are already digging for them. They’ve done a good job, and we’re going to reach the men.”
“There’s more, Alistair, tell me!”
“Daniel was searching a passageway.”
“Daniel!” she gasped.
“The little Anderson fellow.”
“Oh god!” she cried. Turning swiftly, she went flying down the stairway.
Just outside the main doors, Alistair caught up with her. He took her firmly by the shoulders. “The horses are here. We’re ready to ride. But you must get hold of yourself. It will do the lad no good if you kill yourself on your way to reach him!”
She nodded numbly, then mounted up swiftly. She was somewhat in control again, and Alistair knew that she was an exceptional rider. The two of them streaked over the hills, valleys, and fields like bolts of lightning. Twenty feet from the mine entrance, Shawna leaped from her horse and went racing to it. Mark Menzies caught her at the entry.
“Lowell, Gawain, Alaric, and Aidan are within, m’lady. Ye cannot dig, as the men can.”
“Where’s the lad, Mark?”
“Still within, they’re trying to reach him.”
Alistair passed by her, hurrying to the entry.