Mrs. Campbell thrust the book into her hands, distracting her. “Here. Take it with ye. Best place to read about the Highlands is in the middle of Loch Tay.”
“I thought you said to stay near the shore.”
“You enjoy yourself out there.”
With a push from Mrs. Campbell, the rowing boat began to ease out onto the water, rocking slightly on the gentle waves. Lindsey waved back at her host as she was swallowed up by the mist.
Silence fell. Taking hold of the oars, she began to row. A breeze blew the mist away and then she was able to see the rolling green hillsides around the loch. The water grew still as a millpond.
There was no risk of her falling out. She wondered why she’d been so worried. A deep sense of contentment came to her as she lay back with the book on her chest and began to read.
She soon lost herself in the detailed description of the murder of Princess Margaret who had only gone to visit Tavish in his chamber in the north tower of the castle. She was there to reject his proposal of marriage, tell him she was betrothed to Edward Caernarvon.
He grabbed her in a rage, snatching the locket from around her neck before hurling her from the window. She could picture it, the princess falling screaming to her death. Tavish thinking he’d assured himself of the crown by getting rid of the only heir.
The only problem was none of it made sense. How would killing her help him get the throne? He wasn’t from a noble background. He had no army to back him. He wasn’t even a laird. Why would anyone accept him saying he should be king?
She read the chapter again, hoping to spot something she might have missed. A breeze picked up but she didn’t notice, she was too engrossed in the book. The breeze pushed the boat slowly away from the shore as the mist began to swirl around it again, blocking her view of the land.
By the time Lindsey realized what was happening, she was in the middle of the loch. The mist parted once more and she saw the shore far away but didn’t recognize the view. The trees were gone, the hillside bare. Where was the Bed and Breakfast?
“Keep calm,” she told herself as the breeze stiffened into a strong wind that rocked the boat from side to side. “Just get back to the shore and then you can work out where you are.”
She started to row but it was hard. Whichever way she went the wind seemed to be against her, pushing her back toward the middle of the loch. Her arms ached from the effort as she shoved the oars down into the water again and again.
Out of nowhere there came a scraping sound somewhere under the boat. She fell back with a thump. Then something smacked into the hull.
Leaning over, she caught a glimpse of a jagged rock wedged into the side near the oar. As she tried to dislodge it a sudden gust blew, catching her off-guard. Before she could right herself, she tipped forward and fell headfirst into the water.
It was freezing, the icy cold making her gasp as she plunged down into the dark. She swallowed a lungful of water and that sent her into a blind panic. Thrashing her limbs, she managed to surface for long enough to see a figure on the shore.
She tried to wave for help, but she sank almost at once. Bobbing back up, there was no time to take another breath before she went under again, lungs burning, body screaming for air.
Kicking her legs, she prayed she could get onto the rock that was sticking out of the water, but it seemed to have vanished. She could feel nothing, see only darkness. She tried to push for the surface, but it got further away and then she slowly began to sink down toward the bottom of the loch.
This is it, she thought in the midst of her panic. This is how I’m going to die.
