“I’m so sorry, Your Grace. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right, Heather. I am not angry.” Those were his last words before the next wave hit and held them underwater. By some miracle, he caught an ebb current and swam furiously with it so that it pushed them out of the cave and onto the treacherous rocks.
He tried to protect Heather with his big body, his back and shoulders taking a bruising as he slogged his way off the rocks with her safely in his arms. They were alive and able to breathe again, and this was all that mattered.
He ought to have been furious, for she had disobeyed him.
But she was shattered, now in tears and blaming herself.
He tried to calm her as he tumbled safely with her onto the sand and rolled them away from the rocks.
It was not a moment too soon.
Ruarke watched in horror as a monstrous wave rose out of the water and smashed against the rocks. It would have battered them with enough force to crush their bones, had they been caught.
But they were on the beach now, safe upon the warm sand as water harmlessly flooded around them and then swept back out.
In the next moment, a shrill cry filled the air, a sound as sharp as a knife, and capable of shattering eardrums. “Heather, cover your ears!”
What in blazes is that?
He had never heard such an anguished wail before, certainly nothing like it ever emanating from the Singing Caves.
It had to be the keening shriek of a raging ghost.
Ruarke wasted no time in carrying Heather to the cliff steps. But he had to set her down by the time they reached the stairs. His lungs were burning so badly, he thought they might burst.
His arms gave out, as did the rest of his body.
“We are done for if she comes after us.” He set her down with a grunt and dropped onto the sand beside her, completely spent.
She sat on the bottom step and let the tears stream down her face.
“Stop crying, lass.” His voice was little more than a rasp, as he needed several moments to catch his breath.
“How can I?” She took in sobbing gulps of air. “We almost died. It is all my fault.”
They were soaked to the teeth, and Heather was shivering.
The pain of a thousand agonies was etched on her face as her gaze met his. “I am so sorry. I never meant—”
“I do not want to hear anothersorryout of you,” he said with a growl of frustration, still shaken by how close they had cometo dying. “Did I not warn you to stay away? Now do you believe those Singing Caves are haunted and dangerous?”
“I always did believe. But I saw her. I saw Bella and spoke to her.”
Blast the girl.
“You spoke to a ghost?” His question came out in another low growl.
Her eyes widened. Beautiful eyes of softest green. “Yes. Please, let’s get away from here and I will tell you everything.”
He rolled to his knees and took another moment to rise to his full height. It was a struggle, but Heather was also struggling. He looked down at her pathetic form and brushed back several strands of her hair that were now stuck to her cheeks. “You’re shivering and your lips have turned blue.”
She nodded and rose shakily.
He did not have a jacket to wrap around her, since he’d gone off to the church in the work clothes he had been wearing when meeting her in the grove earlier. But she was still shaking, so he put an arm around her shoulders and held her close. “I know I am sopping wet, but the heat of my body might warm you a little.”
“I don’t deserve your kindness.”
