Tavish glanced down, seeing Lindsey looking back up at him from far away. Seeing the look in her eyes gave him strength and with a grunt and a monumental heave of his arms, he managed to shove the guard away.
The guard leaned down and scooped up his sword. Tavish went for his own and a second later the two blades crashed together. The guard was fast, jabbing continually, pushing Tavish back once again toward the edge of the ridge.
He felt his feet slipping from him, stones clattering down over the rim and disappearing down the mountainside. The guard let out a laugh.
“You’re Tavish Sinclair,” he said, jabbing once again as Tavish visibly sagged in place, almost tumbling and barely managing to keep his balance. “They said you were the best fighter in the Highlands. You’re nothing but a washed-up murderer.”
“Aye,” replied Tavish. “But I’m something else as well.”
“What’s that?” the guard asked, pushing forward with the final lunge that would send Tavish to his death.
“Quick on my feet.” Tavish leaped to the side, flicking his sword into the hilt of his opponent’s, flinging it loose from his grip and sending it clattering down into the abyss. The guard almost fell after it but Tavish caught him at the last second, getting his hands around the man’s throat and choking him into unconsciousness in seconds.
He tugged the sagging figure back from the edge, laying him by his companion before pausing to wipe the sweat from his brow. Looking down at the castle he could no longer see Lindsey. All he could do was wait to see if she emerged.
It was the longest wait of his life. The guards were bound and gagged with their own tartans. He’d deliberately used loose knots. They’d get themselves free in a couple of hours but by then he’d be long gone with the stone.
Crouching at the spot where she’d headed down, he craned his neck in the hope of seeing her. He couldn’t help but think about the kiss.
It had been a foolish thing to do and he had learned his lesson. He would not attempt such a thing again. He did not even know why he’d done it.
He couldn’t ask her. To do so would embarrass them both. She would try not to hurt his feelings but the fact of the matter was clear. No matter if she felt true love for him, she still had to get back to her own time where she belonged.
He should try and erase the kiss from his memory, pretend it never happened. She’d probably already erased it, he just needed to do the same.
That was easier said than done when he had gained the knowledge of just how soft her lips were.
An hour passed and in that time he decided he would never mention the kiss, nor his growing feelings for her. It would only cause pain for him and embarrassment for her to do so. She was going home and that was clearly what mattered to her, not the feelings of a banished member of a failing clan.
He lay perfectly still, praying for her safety, asking the Lord for His help in bringing her back to him. His desire for the stone had gone. All he wanted was for her to get out of there alive. If she died it would be his fault. He had sent her into the lion’s den with no protection.
Fear rose up in him that she had already been caught. Another hour rolled by and he tried to prepare himself for the worst. She wasn’t coming out.
She’d probably gone in there and told them where he was, told them who he was. Any minute the castle gates would open and an army would come out to collect him for execution.
The castle gates rolled open and he winced. There was no point running. They knew this land far better than him and there was nowhere to hide this high up. Someone was down there, a figure emerging from the castle. It was her. She was waving, beckoning him to come down and join her.
