My Heart's in the Highlands by Angeline Fortin (best english novels for beginners .TXT) 📗

as children heand his sister would play there at pirates for hours at a time.

But when the tides came in …

Hero shuddered and Ian wrapped his armsaround her, chafing her lightly to warm her. “Worry not, my love,we will find a way out.”

“There is no other way out.”

“Then someone will find us,” he reassuredher.

Hero nodded against his chest but she had herdoubts.

Chapter Twenty-One

An hour later, Ian had rammed his shoulderagainst the door so many times that he knew he would be bruisedfrom the effort. Still the door hadn’t budged an inch. He had triedto pry the hinges out to remove the entire door but they wererusted over. He’d even tried to lever the door away with a rock anda long piece of driftwood. Nothing had worked.

Now he waded into the rising water, assessingthe force of the waves on the incoming tide and wondering if hecould swim to the beach. He’d have to scale the cliffs as well orrun the half mile up the beach to the ancient stone stairs thatwere built into the cliffs before he could make it into the castleand back down into the dungeon to free Hero. By that time, therewas no telling what condition she would be in.

“You’d never make it,” Hero said perceptivelywhen he pounded his fist against the cave wall in frustration.

Ian turned back to her. She was leaningagainst the wall by the door, unable to sit now that the tidalwaters lapped about her feet. She was pale, shivering in his coat.Her teeth were audibly chattering. Ian cursed inwardly, angry withhimself for being unable to free her. Terrified for her.

“You must be freezing, Ian,” she said.“Please take back your jacket.”

“The sight of your lovely face is enough towarm me,” he said, earning a slight smile and a shake of herhead.

In truth, he was chilled. His wet feet andlegs in particular were almost numb. But he didn’t feel nearly ascold as Hero looked. Her cheeks and nose that had been red from thecold not long ago were now a worrisome white. He was desperate toget her warm and dry, but even as Ian watched, the water rosehigher, soaking the bottom of Hero’s skirts. He looked back, tryingto remember where the original water levels had been, measuringwhere they were now, and applying what little he knew of the Firthof Clyde’s normal tides.

Hero exhaled a huff that might have been achuckle. “I can see you working it out in your mind, Ian. Shall Isave you the trouble? In just a few hours this cave will be nearlyunderwater. Even if it we were not close to a full moon, itwouldn’t matter. High tide floods this cave every time between nineand as high as nearly fourteen feet. The water will reach this farup the passage, almost to the level of the main cavern. That’s whythe iron parts of the door are so rusted. If it assures you at all,however, we will not drown.”

“It doesn’t assure me at all,” Ian groundout. What was the worst way to die? From drowning or exposure tothe elements? The brisk wind swirling about the cave would havebeen bad enough, but the waters of the firth even in the summerwere frigid. When the sun went down, it would be even moremiserable. There had to be a way to keep Hero from the worst of ituntil someone realized where they were and opened the door.

Again Hero spoke as if she could read histhoughts. “I can handle getting my toes wet, Ian.”

“It’s not your toes I’m worried about,” hetold her, wading back to her and drawing her into his arms. Helifted her out of the water, negating her protests with a frown.Turning, he leaned back against the wall with her cradled in hisarms.

He was worried about her life. He was worriedabout losing her just as he had found her. Ian laughed derisively.Who was he fooling? He was afraid, very afraid.

Holding her against him, Ian willed his bodyto warm hers and keep her safe. He didn’t want be without her. Hisastonishing realization should have shocked him more. A part of himthought he should fear it, reject it, but some part of Ian embracedit.

Hero was his. He had known from the firstmoment he had seen her that he wanted her and he would lose not hernow. He could not. Rocking her gently against his chest, Ianstudied the door with a frown, wondering again how it had closed.Ghosts aside, the door appeared too heavy—and had felt too sturdyagainst his shoulder—to be blown shut, even by the forceful windsfrom the firth. That meant that someone had purposefully shut it,locking them inside.

Knowing they were inside?

Ian thought again of the previous night. Ofthe candle stump in the pool of oil. Had someone tossed the lampand thrown a lit candle into it, hoping to start a fire? The oilitself would have drowned the flame before it had a chance toignite but not everyone would have known that. If someone wastrying to harm them, Ian wondered who. And why.

Pressing a kiss to the top of Hero’s head,Ian had another terrible thought. What if her accident in Glasgowhadn’t been an accident at all?

Time slipped by as he mulled over theproblem, the passage of the minutes marked by the water creepingpast his ankles and up his calves. His arms burned from holdingHero for so long but he refused to let her go.

Hero slumped against him suddenly and Ianturned his attention frantically to her, checking her pulse. Notdead, just unconscious. Or sleeping. Cold and exposure often hadthat affect, but sleeping was the worst thing for her. Ian shookher gently, then more forcibly. “No, Hero! Wake up now, lass.”

She moaned softly and Ian continued to shakeher and talk to her until she opened her eyes once more. “That’sit, my love. Wake up or I’ll drop you back in the water.”

“Cold,” she murmured but kept her eyesopen.

“I know,” he said. “I am too. Come, now, stayawake. Tell me something else about Cuilean. Tell me about theghosts.”

Shaking her