She nodded.
“Then take this with you.” He pulled a spare oar from the side of the boat. “It will aid you on your journey.”
She rested it against the side of the boat and embraced him again. “Help me, with my outer garments won’t you? The weight will pull me under if I wear all of them.”
Lord Penrith leaned in and kissed her as a lover would, letting the others believe what they wanted. The kiss was warm and though it did nothing to arouse her, the way Callum’s mouth did, it gave him the chance to unlace her surcoat, loosening it from her shoulders. When he pulled back, he blocked her from view and Marguerite lifted it away, dropping it upon the floor of the boat. Though she worried about the weight of her cote and chemise, she might need the warmth when she made it to land later.
She took the oar in her hand and sent the earl a smile. “Seek your own happiness, my lord. Just as I will.”
And with that, she stepped overboard, holding tightly to the wood as the frigid water closed over her head.
Chapter Fifteen
The water was so cold, it seemed to freeze her limbs in place. Marguerite struggled with the oar, but it wasn’t helping her float. A wave drenched her face, and she fought to breathe.
Keep going, she urged herself. But she wasn’t at all a strong swimmer, and her feet could not touch the bottom.
Behind her, she heard the shouts of the men and another splash as someone came after her. The sound of them made her aware that if she didn’t begin swimming as hard as she could, they would only bring her back again.
“Marguerite!” came the earl’s voice. Seconds later, she heard him swimming toward her. Then a strong arm came around her waist, holding her above water. “Little fool,” he whispered in her ear. “You’re not strong enough, are you?”
“I h-have to try,” she whispered back. “Let me go.”
But instead of dragging her back to the ship, she realized he was swimming toward land, bringing her with him.
“I tossed your gown into the water, so they wouldn’t suspect,” he murmured, keeping her above the waves. When she was closer to shore, he asked, “Can you touch the bottom?”
When she let go of him, the water was at the level of her mouth while she stood on tiptoe. “Y-yes.” The freezing cold water made her limbs ache, but she could make the rest of the distance on her own.
“Hide yourself in the hills,” he said, letting her go. “Godspeed, Marguerite,”
She heard him swimming back to the ship, and she whispered back, “Godspeed.” That he had done this for her meant the world. She hoped that he would seek his own happiness with the one he loved. A man like the earl deserved no less.
Her body was leaden with fatigue, but she stumbled her way to the shore. Unable to see anything, she could only judge the distance by walking forward, the water growing more shallow. Each minute was endless, her body shivering violently.
When she reached the sand, she collapsed on her knees, unable to take another step. Behind her, the shouting continued, and she heard her father’s anguished voice.
Get up, she ordered herself. She had to keep going, no matter how difficult it became. Inside, she envisioned Callum’s face, trying to gain strength from it. If somehow she could find him, all of this would be worth it. She wouldn’t allow herself to think of how far they’d sailed or how impossible it might be to find him.
Time blurred, and she climbed the hillside, not knowing where she was going or how she would ever reach him. She didn’t know the land, and the sky gave no hint of light.
She walked, feeling the dizziness overtake her. The golden netting and barbette she’d worn seemed to weigh against her head and neck, and she loosened them, until they fell upon the ground.
Her thin gown was clammy against her skin, the wind making her shiver more. It was hard to breathe, and she felt as if she were gasping for air.
How long had she been gone? Whether minutes or hours, she couldn’t tell at all. Her hands were numb and when she tried to hold up the hem of her gown, she couldn’t make her fingers work.
She kept moving, no longer aware of the direction. Was she going back toward the castle? Or further inland? Without warning, she lost her footing and stumbled hard, her body collapsing to the ground. The grass was soft beneath her, breaking the fall. How long was it until morning? Perhaps if she lay down to rest, she could see better when the sun came up.
Curled up upon the ground, she stared up at the night sky, wondering if she’d done the right thing. She didn’t know if the earl would lie on her behalf, or what he would say to her father.
Her heartbeat was racing in her chest, and she struggled to calm herself. She’d lost her shoes in the water, and her bare feet were so cold, she could no longer feel them.
Sleep, a voice inside her urged. Don’t fight it any longer.
Callum woke before dawn, the nightmare pulling him out of sleep. A sense of restlessness made him uneasy that something was wrong. He couldn’t place the feeling, but he found himself packing up his tent and sleeping blankets with a sense of urgency.
He ate a bit of dried meat and an oat cake that he’d brought along as traveling food, and prepared Goliath for the journey home. Shielding his eyes against the sun, he stared below at the sandy beach and the glittering water. There was no sign of the ship. Marguerite was gone, as he’d expected.
