Finlay leaned over and hauled Alex back on board. After he had caught his breath, Alex had bad news.
“The tunnel has been blocked well enough so that they saw nay need to place sentries there. McMichaels must have had a dozen men crawlin’ over those rocks like crazed spiders for days to find the crevasse. Now, what are we goin’ to do?”
All anyone could hear was the lapping and slapping of waves against the boats. Then Finlay played the ace in his hand.
“There is another secret passageway…”
* * *
Isla was sick with worry about the forthcoming battle. After a night of tossing in her bed and wishing there was a way to read Finlay Dougal’s mind, she had to admit to herself that the feelings of love inside her were much stronger than the feelings of confusion. She was determined not to waste her time worrying so far into the future when they were sailing toward possible death. She was prepared to die for her laird and her love. It was as simple as that.
Their night of passion on the islet had been too perfect for her to just forget about and move on. His kisses, his touch, his manly physicality—all these things had bound Isla to the laird’s son just as surely as if he had placed a ring on her finger. She hated herself for feeling this way, but she knew she would hate herself even more if she walked away. When she heard her father was readying himself to volunteer to fight by the laird’s son’s side, Isla was determined to see the venture through to the end.
And now, with the eve of battle so close, Isla knew she would do everything in her power to ensure its success.
“There is another secret passageway into the castle,” Finlay was saying, “but it ends in the wine cellars under the kitchen flagstones.”
Alex shivered as he belted his plaid back around his waist and slung the sheath of his sword behind his back.
“Why dinnae we try that way in the first place, Fin? To hell with comin’ up from the dungeons. Let’s give those McMichaels busterts a breakfast they will never forget!”
“The entrance in the flagstone hatch is so wee, Alex. I don’ think any o’ us could fit through it. I could hardly fit through it when me faither showed me it when I was a wee lad.”
“I’ll go.” Isla did not have to think twice about her decision. “Just tell me where to go.”
Master McDonnell had something to say about his daughter entering enemy territory.
“Wheesht, Isla! Awa’ wi’ ye! This is for the men to do.”
Isla ignored her father and waited to hear what Finlay had to say.
“Help the blacksmith’s daughter to climb aboard this boat an’ begin rowing as close to the shoreline as ye can go.”
When he held out his arms to catch her as she clambered over, Isla was happier than she had been for many days. If felt safe and warm in his arms, but after he released her, Finlay was quick to remind her of the seriousness of what she was about to do.
“Are ye sure ye’re up for it, sweetheart?”
He wanted Isla to understand the dangers ahead.
“Dinnae fash, Fin,” she told him. “If anyone can get away with bein’ in a kitchen, it’s a woman an’ no’ some braw soldier.”
Reluctantly, he accepted her offer. As she stripped down to her shift, he whispered instructions to her.
“Are ye sure?” he wanted to know before she lowered herself over the side of the boat.
“Aye,” Isla whispered back. “I will do anything to get off this wretched boat.”
And with those words, she let go of the side of the boat and allowed the waves to close over her head.
