“It’s me, Cilla,” Lachlan called.
“Oh, thank goodness.” Cilla tucked her needle into the fabric, stuffed her project in her basket, and dashed around the Fresnel lens to the top of the stairs.
Lachlan climbed the stairs with his cap in hand, his gaze fixed on Cilla, his brow knit together.
As soon as he entered the lightroom, Cilla threw herself into his arms. “Jericho didn’t come. He’s out there.”
“I know. I willnae let him hurt you.” He pressed his cheek—a kiss?—to her temple. “I have news from Neil. Yardley said I could tell you.”
“From Neil?” Cilla looked up. Only inches away, Lachlan’sexpression burned with intensity, warming her cheeks. She ducked her chin and stepped back.
“Have a seat, lass.” His voice came out soft but rough.
She sat at one end of the worktable, and he pulled a chair around to the side.
Lachlan clasped his hands together on top of the table. “Jericho went to the Claymore and Heath last night and approached Neil.”
“The pub?” Cilla wrapped her arms around her middle. “I—I mentioned the pub to Kraus, but why would Jericho go there? Why didn’t he meet me at the station?”
Lachlan mashed his lips together. “He didnae fancy reporting to a woman, so he went straight to Free Caledonia.”
“Oh no. Neil doesn’t know anything. And he doesn’t have a scarlet thread. Why would Jericho approach him?”
“Aye, he violated procedures. He told Neil he’d been sent to meet you.”
“He named me?” Cilla squeezed her eyes shut. Jericho was as indiscreet an agent as Arno Bakker would have been.
“He told Neil he’d been sent to help Free Caledonia commit sabotage, but of course Neil knew nothing about it. Then Jericho saw you get into Yardley’s motorcar and said you’d betrayed Free Caledonia.”
Cilla massaged her temples. “Worse. He thinks I betrayed the Abwehr. He knows I’ve turned.”
Lachlan’s silence said more than words. “Neil rang the police, but Jericho escaped.”
“He’s free, he has a wireless transmitter and a gun, and he knows I’ve turned.” Sparkles flashed on the backs of Cilla’s eyelids.
Chair legs scraped on the floor, and Lachlan rubbed her shoulders.
She pulled in a deep breath and pried open her eyes. “I refuse to panic. I’m locked in, under guard, and he’s only one man.”
“I’m armed too. If he comes to Dunnet Head, he’ll be arrested. Thanks to Neil, we have a description and so do the police.”
Lachlan’s warmth radiated from mere inches away, and she leaned into it, into him. God was with her, but she was glad Lachlan was with her too.
He rubbed circles on her upper back. “I’m sorry, but you’ll need to remain in the lighthouse until he’s captured.”
Outside, white clouds streaked the blue sky, and the seas stretched away to where they poured over the horizon. “It’s all right. There’s freedom in the trap.”
“Pardon?”
“My cousin Gerrit told me that. He’s a lot like you.” Steady, strong, quiet. “All my life I’ve thought freedom meant not having any rules or walls to stop me. This year I’ve faced walls like never before, but I’ve found freedom. True freedom—in faith and forgiveness.”
“Hmm.” Lachlan kept stroking her shoulders, and he didn’t pull away. “I like walls. Walls and rules protect, and that—that makes me feel free.”
“Security.”
“Aye, but it’s a false freedom. I may have been free on the outside, but inside I—I was imprisoned. Distrust. Resentment.”
“That’s changing.” Cilla nudged his side with her shoulder. “Especially with your brother.”
