“Donae promise what you cannae control, Quinn.”
“See, that’s the thing.” Her face brightened as she smiled. “Tearing down walls requires effort and will. I have neither, so I think your castle and you are safe.”
“Only time will tell.”
Chapter Seven
Collin watchedQuinn through the kitchen window as he passed along Quinn’s compliments on the cooking. Mavis’ husband, Angus, stood beside Collin, watching as Quinn held her phone up to the sky, as if looking for the best reception.
“You dinnae tell her it was best near the cliffs?” Angus asked.
“Nay.” Collin inwardly smiled. “It’s best to keep an eye on her the entire time she’s here, and I cannae see her if she goes over there.”
“This woman is wise, no’ to mention fierce, bringing Ian to his knees. She’ll figure out the best place for reception and the curse.” Mavis chuckled, wiping her flour-covered hands on her apron. “Did you ask her what Ramsey found?”
“How do you know what Ramsey found?” Collin asked, turning to face the white-haired woman who’d practically raised him.
“Nothing can get by that woman. She knows all.” Angus nudged his arm.
“Well, have you asked her about it?” Mavis asked, not answering where she heard the rumor.
“Nay,” Collin answered, turning back to find Quinn was walking out of sight toward the corner of the castle, in the exact direction of the cliffs. Damn woman.
“It’s probably wise you leave the wounded animal alone. We all have a past, and she’s apparently lost someone she loved. If she thinks you’re attacking her, you’ll likely find that her bite is worse than her bark. No reason to anger the lassie if you donae have to. I hear she’s already causing a stir with Margarete.”
“Aye, that she has.” Collin inwardly smiled, not wanting to let on that he whole-heartedly approved of Quinn’s method.
“Probably for the best you keep Ms. Thatcher close and warn her aboutMargarete. There’s nothing like a woman scorned on the verge of losin’ the trophy she’s been eyeing.”
“I think Quinn can take her.”
“I’d lay odds on your American.” Angus nudged Collin’s arm again. “She’s a fine lass, indeed.”
“That she is,” Collin answered, heading out the back door to hunt for Quinn.
He rounded the edge of the castle’s stone walls, expecting to find Quinn standing at the cliff’s edge with the phone pressed against her ear. The rocky cliffs were empty, not a soul in sight.
“Quinn,” he yelled out. His gaze searched the nearby forest as he moved closer.
“Help.”
He heard the faint cry over the sound of waves crashing against the rocks.
“Quinn. Where are you, lass?” he yelled louder. His heart pounded against his ribs as unease coursed through his veins. His boots pounded against the packed dirt as he ran toward the rocky ledge.
“I’m down here,” she called out.
He skidded to a stop, knocking a rock over the edge. The rock smacked her in the middle of the forehead as her fingers clung to one of the smooth boulders. Her body dangled over the edge.
“I thought you said that I’d make men fall, not thatIwould be the one falling.”
Collin lay down on his stomach and held out both hands. “I’m going to pull you up. Give me your hand, Quinn.”
She shook her head. “If I let go, I’ll fall.”
Her fingertips were turning as white as her cheeks. “I’m coming down.”
Hopping up from his position, he moved to sit on his rear and then eased down the rocky ledge until his foot found purchase on one of the larger boulders below. Wrapping his fingers around her arm for a firm grip, he lifted her and pulled her toward him until he had her tightly in his arms, refusing to let her go. Her racing heart pounded against his chest as she looked up into his eyes. Color started to return to her cheeks as he held her close.
