Page 9 of The Highlander's Dangerous Bride

“D’ye need help?” he shouted above the terrible crashing of the waves and the groans of the disintegrating vessel, which he could vaguely make out being tossed like a broken toy on the raging tide.

The rescuers laid the unconscious man on the sand and peered at Arne through the gloom while dashing water from their eyes. “He’s all right, but there are more still in the water,” one of them shouted, gesturing with his arm at the waterlogged man at his feet. “This one’s the captain of the birlinn that’s breakin’ up. He sails these waters all the time.”

“But why is he sailin’ at night in a storm like this? That’s pure madness!” Arne exclaimed, going closer to help them drag the captain farther away from the rushing waters.

“Aye, but his business is better carried out under cover of darkness, if ye get me meanin’. He deals in black market goods, givin’ fugitives and the like passage tae the mainland,” one of the rescuers explained as they laid the captain on safer ground. “He needs the darkness tae play his trade.”

“Well, it’s nae done him nor them any good this foul night,” Arne responded, brushing sand from his hands and noticing that more people were arriving. Some carried lighted torches, casting a hellish light on the proceedings. Others were racing down the beach and splashing into the water, seeking other survivors. “I cannae see many of the passengers makin’ it through this,” he shouted to the two men, following behind as they raced back down the beach into the foaming sea.

Anxious to save as many of the poor souls as possible, he too waded out into the waves fully clothed, still in his boots, looking to aid more of the unfortunate ship-wrecked passengers being tossed up on the shore. Suddenly, he spotted something floating nearby, something white. A woman! He threw himself into the sea and swam as fast as he could towards her, against the frenzied, dragging tide, swallowing mouthfuls of the salt water as the tossing waves broke over him.

He finally reached her and took her limp body in his arms, brushing the lengths of her floating dark hair from his mouth as he turned on his back and towed her in until he could feel the bottom beneath his feet once more.

Then, he carried through the surging waves up onto the sand and gently laid her down near the growing line of bodies. The sopping mass of her hair was plastered her face, hiding her features, but he cared naught for that, wanting only to know if she was still alive.

He felt a spark of hope to see her chest moving. She was breathing shallowly, but he knew he had to act fast, for that could change at any moment. Some of the villagers came to aid him, holding their lighted torches high, others helping as he turned her on her side and thumped her back, to get rid of the water in her lungs.

For some reason he could not fathom, he felt very protective of her, whoever she was, and he was terrified she would die in his arms. When she finally started coughing violently, water running from her mouth, her entire body shaking, Arne slid an arm under her back to hold her up as she coughed and heaved.

To help her get some air, he pushed back the veil of dark hair obscuring her face, and his hand froze in midair as he stared down at the pale, almost blueish features revealed to him. As he took them in, the breath left his body in a rush, and his head went dizzy.

The face was as familiar to him as his own, as Thorsten’s, for it belonged to the woman who had walked out on him and their son three years before. It was none other than the boy’s mother. The only woman he had ever loved. The one who had ruined him forever.

Maeve!

CHAPTER THREE

The Isle of Barra, a few hours earlier

When the castle clocks chimed, one, two, three, Raven was sitting fully dressed and as still as a statue on the bed in her chambers, with only a single candle for light. She was staring at the open window, where the draperies were being tossed about by the wild gusts beyond, her ears straining.

Suddenly, she heard it, the low whistle that could just be distinguished above the wind’s whining. Her heart thudding in her chest, she leapt up, grabbed her cloak from the bed and whirled it around her shoulders as she ran to the window and looked down to the cobbled yard twenty feet below.

“’Tis me,” a feminine voice called up, just loud enough not to be snatched

away by the billowing gusts. “Come, melady, we must hurry!” Raven squinted into the darkness, barely able to make out the cloaked and hooded figure waving frantically up at her. Her heart began thudding in her chest as fear and uncertainty took hold of her. But she reminded herself what was at stake and found the strength to go forward with her daring plan.

There’s nay turnin’ back now.

“All right, Ava, I’m comin’,” she called down as loudly as she dared, though it was unlikely anyone would hear them amid the lashing wind. “I’ll throw me bag down first.” She bent and picked up the small bag she had placed by the window and, with a sickening lurch of her stomach, let it drop from the window. The thud of its landing was lost to the wind.

“Got it,” came her maid’s answering call.

Then, Raven said a silent prayer, took a deep breath, and hoisted herself up onto the stone windowsill. Fighting back her fear of heights, she forced herself not to look down as she leaned out and gripped the ivy snaking up the walls. Fortunately, the thick stems were woven into the fabric of the castle walls and easily took her weight. Her heart in her mouth, she gingerly edged out and found a foothold before starting the perilous climb downwards.

Slowly, carefully groping for each hand and toehold for support, she moved ever lower. The sharp edges of the giant plant cut into her flesh while she battled against the wind, which seemed intent on ripping her from the wall, as if it wanted her to fall.

After what seemed like an eternity to her, she heard Ava’s voice much closer. “Ye’re almost at the bottom, melady. Ye can jump from there.”

“Heaven be praised,” Raven muttered under her breath as she finally dared to look down and saw Ava’s face shining up at her just a yard or so below. She loosened her grip on the ivy and let herself drop to the ground, landing safely at Ava’s side. Ava grabbed her, and they hugged, both giving way to relieved laughter after the tense moments.

“Are ye all right, melady?” the maid asked worriedly as they parted.

“Aye, I’m in one piece, though I can hardly believe I just did that. And in a dress as well,” Raven answered shakily. Once she had gotten her breath and composed herself, she glanced around the deserted outcrop. “What did ye dae tae get rid of the guards?” she asked Ava.

Ava chuckled. “After what I put in their suppers, they’ll be hoverin’ above a chamber pot fer hours,” the maid replied.

Raven laughed softly, tickled by her friend’s ingenuity, but when she looked in Ava’s eyes, she could see naught but worry and pain reflected there.

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