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“You must hurry,” the guard whispered in an urgent voice. “Your men have staged a distraction. Follow me. I’ll show you to the northern gate.”

Alaric helped Ewan to his feet and they hurried from the cell and up the stone staircase to the first level of the castle. The guard rushed down the long corridor, past the great hall, and beyond to the kitchens.

They exited the castle through the small door where rubbish was discarded and approached a small wooden gate carved into the imposing stone wall that jutted upward. The guard produced a key and hastily unlocked the large metal padlock.

“Go,” he urged.

Ewan’s men filed out of the doorway and Ewan paused at the end. “You have my thanks,” he told the guard. “You need to watch over your king. Archibald plots against him. I’ve heard rumor the king is unwell. Examine his food and drink.”

The guard nodded. “Go with God, Laird McCabe. I’ll pray for the safe return of your lady wife.”

Ewan ducked out of the doorway and followed his men into the night. They raced across the terrain, heading for the distant cover of the forest.

CHAPTER 36

Ewan trilled a soft birdcall, the sound echoing over the still night. In the distance, an answering call sounded and Ewan crept stealthily forward, his brothers on his heels.

They’d waited four days for the new moon, after taking three days to arrive on Cameron land and carefully survey the layout of the keep. Ewan couldn’t wait a single moment longer. There had been no sign of Mairin in several long days as they watched and waited. Duncan was keeping her under tight wraps.

After singling out the chamber that Mairin was most likely housed in, Ewan and his men circled the keep. Along with his brothers, Ewan crept inside the stone skirt, past the sleeping guards to the tower that loomed overhead.

Now in the darkness, Ewan tossed the rope with the hook up the wall. It took five attempts before he hooked the sill. Tugging on the rope to make sure it would hold, he began a quick hand-over-hand scale up the wall to the window.

Mairin stood in her window and bowed her head, as the shame of her circumstances fell over her shoulders.

A devil’s bargain. Her child’s life for her own. Her child’s life for her life with Ewan. She didn’t regret the decision she’d made, but she mourned all she had lost. All she’d never have.

The strain of the last week was too much to bear. She was at her wit’s end. She was afraid to eat lest Duncan change his mind and go back on his word. She feared at every turn that he’d put a potion into her drink or food that would cause her to lose her child.

She lived in constant fear of having to give herself to the man who now called her wife. She swayed wearily and turned in the direction of the bed. She couldn’t continue on in this manner. It wasn’t good for her child, and yet she had no choice.

Tears glistened on her cheeks as she gave in to the overwhelming grief welling from the depths of her soul. How could she live when she’d known a love so deep that she ached at the memory? How could she ever willingly lie with a man after knowing Ewan’s touch?

Finally, in her exhaustion, she crawled under the covers and buried her head in the pillow so no one would hear her sobs.

She had no idea of the passing of time. When she felt a hand slide over her arm and to her shoulder, she flinched away and turned over, prepared to defend herself from Duncan’s attack.

“Shh, lass, ’tis me, Ewan,” he whispered.

She ared up at her husband in the darkness, unable to believe that he was here, in her chamber.

He touched her wet cheek and wiped away the trail of tears. His voice was tortured and the words seemed ripped from his very soul. “Ah, Mairin, what did he do to you?”

“Ewan?”

“Aye, lass, ’tis me.”

She rose up and threw her arms around his neck, holding on for dear life. If she was dreaming, she never wanted to wake up. She wanted to exist in this dream world where Ewan’s arms were securely around her and she could smell his strong masculine scent.

He crushed her to him, his hand stroking her head, shaking and making a mess of her already unruly hair.

“Ewan,” she choked out. “Oh God, Ewan. Ewan.”

His lips found hers and he kissed her desperately, as if it were the last kiss they’d ever share. Their lips tangled and her tears slipped onto their tongues. She breathed him in, the last breath she wanted to take. She lived in this moment, reaching for everything she’d lost, for everything she wanted most.

“Shh, don’t cry, lass. You’re breaking my heart. We don’t have much time. I’ve got to take you from this place.”

His words penetrated the heavy grief surrounding her. She stared up at him, afraid to believe he was real, that he was there and not a figment of her dearest fantasies.

He picked her up from the bed and carried her toward the window. He leaned out and she clutched at his shoulders as she stared down at the dizzying distance between her sill and the ground.

“Listen to me, sweeting,” he said in a gentle voice. He brushed his lips over her temple and held her tightly against his chest. “We’re going down a rope from your window.”

She raised her head in alarm. “Ewan, I can’t! The babe. I’m too big and clumsy.”

He cupped her chin and stroked his fingers over her cheek as he stared down at her. “I’ll be with you every step of the way. I’m going to lower you down first. Alaric and Caelen wait for us at the bottom. If you fall, they’ll catch you. I need you to trust me.”

She reached up to touch his face, her love and faith soaring in her soul. “I’d fly if you asked me to.”

He kissed her hard and then lowered her to the floor. He wasted no time securing the rope around her foot so that it fit her like a stirrup. Then he strung the rope from her foot to her hands, looping it around her wrists and palms so she gripped it tight.

The other end he tied to his waist and he took position just inside the window.

“Step onto the sill, sweeting. Very carefully put your feet against the wall of the castle and keep them there so you don’t scrape against the st as I lower you. Try to remain upright.”

’Twas insanity, what he was asking her to do, and yet she climbed onto the ledge, holding on to his shoulders for dear life.

He grabbed the rope just inches from her hands and braced himself as she started to climb over. Inch by inch she lowered her foot until it scraped against the side of the stone wall.

“That’s it, lass. Go slow and be careful. I’ve got you. I won’t let you go.”

Sliding over the sill was the hardest thing she’d ever done. And then she simply let go. She spiraled downward, hitting her feet against the wall as she struggled to gain her footing. She threw back her head and saw Ewan fighting with all his strength to slow her descent. The rope had to burn his hands and yet he hung on.

She jammed both feet against the wall and gripped the rope with all her might. Halfway down she finally managed to control her descent by walking down the wall with her feet. When finally she neared the bottom, Alaric and Caelen reached up and grabbed her waist. They lowered her to the ground and quickly untied the rope so Ewan could pull it back up.

“How will he get down?” she whispered urgently.

They ignored her and stared upward, waiting for Ewan. Several long minutes later, she saw his dark figure coming down the rope, hand over hand, his feet against the wall as hers had been.

When he reached a safe distance, he dropped the rest of the way, landing with a soft thump beside her. She reached for his hands and, as she suspected, they were torn and raw. Her throat swelled and she kissed each palm, holding them reverently in her own hands.