Page 54 of A Stranger’s Promise

It was all Alistair could do not to beat him to the ground. Alistair might need him in order to find Charlotte. Then…

“If one hair on her head is harmed, I will kill you.” Alistair shoved him against the cave wall. “Hold him here,” he thundered to his men.

He whirled and pushed deeper into the caves than he had ever been, Nicholas and Oliver close behind. He refused to think any harm might have befallen her. He called her name, again and again, with Oliver and Nicholas echoing her name as well.

Then he heard it. A small voice, panic-stricken and hysterical, emanated from the darkness ahead. “Alistair? Alistair?”

He raced ahead, Nicholas and Oliver on his heels, and burst into a small chamber.

“Alistair.”

Her voice filtered through a small hole close to the ground. Alistair dropped to his knees and shone his light into a small chamber. He glimpsed the hem of her skirt. Fear twisted his belly. He was too large to fit through the opening. He glanced at Oliver, but discounted the idea.

“Can you come out?” he called to Charlotte.

She limped closer and fury swept through him when he realized she was injured. Alistair held his breath as she knelt. His light illuminated her face. Dried blood caked her face and hands.

“Is that really you, Alistair?” she whispered.

“Aye, love. Can you squeeze through the opening?”

She nodded and began to crawl through the hole. When she’d lifted herself out halfway, Alistair grasped her by the waist and pulled her up and into his arms.

“Captain Edwards—” she choked.

“Hush.” Alistair stayed her with a soft kiss. “You need never see him again. He has been caught and will be turned over to the authorities.”

She sagged in relief.

“What’s this?” Nicholas asked.

Alistair glanced at Nicholas, who stood near the opposite side of the cavern, his torch illuminating a small, iron-banded chest with rusted hinges.

Oliver launched himself against Charlotte. “I was so worried about you, Miss.”

She gave a half sob. “You’re such a brave boy. What are you doing here?”

Alistair didn’t miss the tremble in her voice.

Oliver drew back and stood straight. “I’m a Cassilis. I had to help with the search.”

“You need to look at this, Alistair,” Nicholas said with a long, low whistle.

He glanced at Nicholas. The baronet held an aged, oilskin package in his hands, his blue eyes wide with astonishment.

“Bring it,” Alistair replied, then swung Charlotte up into his arms.

She was light as he carried her out of the caves with Oliver by his side. He hugged her close through the relentless rain. She clung to him until they reached the warmth of the castle. Once he’d settled her in a wingback chair in his library, he ordered the doctor summoned and stayed by her side as she looked up at him, her pupils large and dark in the library’s soft light.

“The doctor will be here soon,” he promised.

“There’s little need for a doctor.” She looked more like her old self. “I am fine.”

He brought her fingers to his lips and smiled. “You have a fine black eye to prove it.” He turned to Oliver and pointed to a plump footstool next to the opposite chair. “Bring me that stool, lad.”

As the boy jumped to do his bidding, Alistair knelt and gently removed the slipper from her injured foot. He kissed the inside of her ankle, then carefully slid the stool in place.

She smiled, and the look in her eyes made his blood burn.