Page 15 of The Outlaw's Bride
Breathing hard, Lachlann drew up. Standing at the bottom of a rocky gully, he turned to Adaira. His cheeks were flushed with exertion, and his handsome face was haggard and tired. However, his eyes were sharp.
“I’ve found a hiding place,” he announced, pointing above them. Pines loomed high overhead, and the sides of the ravine rose nearly perpendicular. A few yards above them, upon the eastern side, Adaira spotted a gap. It was wide, although barely high enough for a person to squeeze into, even on their belly.
“We’re going to hide in there?” she asked, horrified.
“Aye.” Lachlann adjusted the satchel, slinging it and the cloak across his back. Then he began to climb. “Come on, Aingeal. Yer bower awaits.”
Peering up at the gap above, Adaira frowned. She wasn’t sure she had the strength in her arms to climb, but she’d try. Reluctantly, she followed him up the rocky incline. There were plenty of holds for her fingers and toes. Even so, she’d only gone a couple of yards when she started to falter.
Halting, clinging to the rock like a spider, she glanced up. Lachlann had already reached their destination. He threw the satchel and cloak inside before pulling himself under the ledge on his belly.
“Just a few more feet,” he called. He reached down, his hand stretching toward her. “Ye can manage it.”
Gritting her teeth, she forced her uncooperative limbs to move. Her legs trembled under her, and the muscles in her upper arms and shoulders burned. Not only that, but her skirts were hampering her movement.
“Grab my hand.”
Adaira pushed herself up another foot before lunging toward Lachlann. His hand clasped hers, and her breath gusted out of her. A heartbeat later he yanked her up the cliff-face and under the ledge where he sprawled.
Adaira found herself face-to-face with him, their bodies pressed close. His heat and nearness overwhelmed her. It was dark in the gap, but she could see the gleam of his eyes.
A moment later the ripe smell of his unwashed body assaulted her.
“God’s bones,” she muttered, edging away from him. “Ye stink.”
Lachlann gave a soft laugh. “So would ye, if ye had spent a week in yer father’s dungeon.”
Adaira gritted her teeth. She didn’t want to be uncharitable, but the thought of being jammed in this crevice next to a man who was in dire need of a bath revolted her. She wouldn’t be able to sleep.
“Worry not,” he continued, a sardonic edge to his voice. “As soon as we reach the coast I shall scrub myself with lye and rid myself of these rags.”
Silence fell for a few moments, before Adaira broke it. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, chastised. “It must have been terrible being locked up in the dark, not being able to use a privy or bathe.”
Lachlann’s mouth quirked. “It wasn’t so bad.”
“But didn’t ye despair?”
“I was too busy trying to think of a way to escape.”
Adaira’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Aye,” he replied without hesitation. “Two of the guards in particular liked to bait me … I was going to use it to my advantage.”
Adaira watched him, impressed. “Ye are resourceful.”
“I’ve always had to be.”
“Why’s that?”
“I’ve got three younger brothers chafing at the bit to advance themselves,” he said with a wry smile. “Plus, I’m Captain of Talasgair Guard … and in charge of patrolling the Fraser borders. I always have to think one step ahead.”
Adaira propped herself up on one elbow, trying to get comfortable on the hard stone ledge. “Ye will be anxious to return home.”
Lachlann didn’t reply, and she searched his face, noting that his smile had faded. She wondered if he worried about his father’s fate. She’d heard her own father bragging about how no mortal man could recover from the injury he’d dealt Morgan Fraser.
“I’m grateful to ye, Lachlann,” she said softly. “I couldn’t make it to Argyle without yer help.”
He inclined his head. “It was a brave decision,” he noted, “to free me and flee from Dunvegan. Most lasses, even faced with the prospect of wedding Aonghous Budge, wouldn’t do it.”
