Highlander Untamed Read online

Almost.

  Isabel held her head completely still, chin lifted, ears alert, eyes scanning back and forth, listening for the smallest sound or flash of movement. Hearing nothing other than the steady movement of the loch on her left and the sound of the breeze flitting through the leaves and underbrush of the forest on her right, she looked carefully once more behind her, then headed for the jagged, rocky entrance that lay hidden before her.

  She urged the frightened horse forward, straight into the face of the cliff where it joined with the edge of the forest. Taking a deep breath, praying for strength, she pulled the reins for a sharp turn to the left and slid into the cool, dark dampness of the tunnel.

  Chapter 26

  Hold fast that which is good.

  —I Thessalonians 5:21

  Isabel was cold, exhausted, and hungry. She’d waited in the tunnel until the sounds above in the kitchens had quieted before pulling herself carefully through the secret door, winding her away through the darkened corridors, and stealthily making her way to the Fairy Tower.

  Unsure of her reception, Isabel approached the tower with burgeoning unease. What would Rory do when he found her in his room? Would he toss her out without listening to her? Or worse? She wished she could be sure she was doing the right thing. But she thought of her misery the past week and a half and knew that she had no other choice. She had to try to make things right.

  She paused in the doorway of the Fairy Tower, casting a quick glance around before darting across the entry. She’d just started to climb the stairs when someone grabbed her from behind, yanking her momentarily against a chest as hard as stone. A scream caught in her throat.

  Her captor spun her around to face him, and she exhaled. Rory. She was so relieved to find him after all that she’d gone through to get here, after the days of agony that had marked their separation, after thinking she might not ever see him again, that she could have collapsed and burst into tears. Her knees weakened; if not for his support, she would have slid to the floor in a grateful heap.

  Then he spoke, and her relief stalled. “By all that is holy, Isabel,” he swore, “what are you doing here?”

  She shrank from the fury in his voice. Cautiously, she raised her eyes to his. So long had she been anticipating this moment, the rush of emotion in just seeing him again was far more overwhelming than she could have imagined. She took in every beloved detail of his face. The strong, hard lines of his ruggedly handsome features, the brilliant blue eyes, the square jaw, the thick golden strands of his…She stopped and frowned. Actually, Rory looked horrible. He looked as though he hadn’t slept in days. In truth, he looked as awful as she surely did. Something kindled inside her. Was it possible? Had he missed her? She dared not allow herself to hope.

  So desperately did she want to touch him, she placed her hand against his chest, savoring the heavy beat of his heart under her palm. She wanted nothing more than to throw herself into his arms and beg his forgiveness, but she couldn’t bear the pain of his rejection. Not again. Not until he’d heard what she had to say. If he would listen.

  His eyes were hot as he scanned her face, almost hungrily. For a moment, she thought he wanted her, and her body responded, softening with awareness. He tightened his grip on her arms, pulling her imperceptibly closer, and she felt the heat radiating from his body, smelled the beloved scent of heather and spice. He was so achingly close, it hurt not to press her body against his.

  He seemed tight with restraint. His teeth clenched, and she noticed the telltale tic in his jaw. “Well? Explain why I find you here and not at Dunscaith or on your way home to your father?”

  “I needed to see you. I know you said you never wanted to see me again, but I have to explain.” Before he could argue, she burst out, “When I agreed to help my uncle, I did not know you or your family. I was only trying to help my clan. I should have told you the truth as soon as I realized how I felt about you, but I couldn’t. Not while I was unsure of your intentions. Spying on you when you told Alex where you kept the flag was wrong, and unintentional. I’m sorry for it, but even by then I knew I would never betray you or your family.” Her eyes raked his face, looking for any indication that her words might have penetrated his steely barrier, but all she could see was a man barely keeping a check on his anger. “I know you have no reason to believe me, so I’ve brought you proof of my loyalty.”

  “And this proof of your loyalty is the reason I see you like this? So weary you can barely stand?” His eyes turned black. “Where is your escort?”

  She looked down sheepishly, shifting uncomfortably beneath his piercing gaze.

  “You traveled almost the length of Skye by yourself?” Incredulous, his voice shook with anger. “Forsooth, don’t you realize what could have happened to you? Dear God, Isabel, how could you be so reckless?”

  He was livid, but Isabel also detected a thread of alarm in his voice. His hands still gripped her shoulders, and she didn’t know whether he wanted to shake her or crush her against his chest. She wanted so badly to believe that he was happy to see her, was she only imagining his concern? Unshed tears burned behind her eyes. “I was desperate. I had to see you. I’d hoped you…” wanted to see me. She couldn’t get the words out.

  Something flickered across his face. For a moment, she thought he was going to pull her into his arms and kiss her. Instead, he dropped his hands and turned away, raking his fingers through his hair. After a few minutes, his eyes found hers again. “You used the secret entrance.”

  Isabel bit her lip. She knew he’d be angry about that. “I was very careful. I feared you would refuse my entry if I came by the sea-gate.” She looked up. “I couldn’t take the chance.”

  “I forgot how many of our secrets you share.” He reached down to stroke her cheek, wiping the dirt and grime from her face. The gentleness of the movement stunned her. Emotion gathered in her throat, hot and raw. The longing for the closeness they’d once shared was nearly unbearable, the times when she didn’t have to stop herself from touching him. “What am I to do with you, Isabel?” He took an ominous step closer. “First you will explain what has brought you here in such haste and with disregard for your own safety.”

  Isabel felt light-headed with relief. She had a chance.

  But sudden fear gripped her, so much was riding on this. She took a deep breath and began. “While at Dunscaith a few days ago, I was helping Willie recover some missives that he dropped on the floor when I noticed Sleat’s badge on a letter addressed to Robert Cecil, the first Earl of Salisbury.” She paused, waiting for Rory to glean the significance.

  She caught the sudden spark in his eye and continued, this time excitedly. “I immediately questioned why Sleat would be writing the queen of England’s secretary of state. I suspected that my uncle was trying to find another way to obtain the Lordship for himself. He hinted as much to me in a conversation we had at the gathering. When I found the letter, I realized that Sleat and probably Mackenzie were in treasonous contact with Queen Elizabeth.”

  “You deduced this from the name on a missive?” Rory asked, clearly impressed.

  “I was desperate to find anything that would make you understand that I would never betray you. And the letter, well, it just seemed odd. Of course, when I read it I could not believe what I’d stumbled upon. Sleat proposed a new rebellion in the Isles. He offered his service to Elizabeth, actually precipitously referring to himself as the ‘Lord of the Isles.’ He proposed to unite the Highland chiefs to the queen and keep the Lordship for himself. And destroy the MacLeods in the process. With the MacLeods in shambles, there would be no one powerful enough in the Isles to contest his claim.”

  Rory shook his head. “’Tis even worse than I expected. I knew he wanted to reestablish the Lordship, but I didn’t think he would commit treason to assure it. I may be at the horn, and do not agree with James’s plans for the ‘barbarians’ of the Isles, but to invite the bloody English into Scotland is an extremely dangerous—and foolish—proposition.” He l