Page 19 of The Return of the Heir

Chapter Five

Too distraught at seeing Alastair so close, and weak after years of imprisonment, Gwendolyn was unable to fight Garrick. Instead, she allowed him to force her through the secret passageway hidden in the walls of the old keep merely by his presence behind her. Garrick’s progress was slow because of the heavy pane of glass he carried. He’d used the glass to throw her image from one part of the great hall to another. She didn’t understand how the illusion had worked, but it had. Alastair had seemed convinced she was a ghost just as Garrick had wanted.

The only thing she’d truly been aware of while Garrick played his cat and mouse game was Alastair himself. In the last five years, his face revealed his character more clearly. The youthful edges of his face had become harder. His cheeks were more clearly defined, and his dark eyes looked at things with more intensity. Those eyes were set under a broad forehead, straight dark brown brows, surprisingly thick lashes, full lips. His square jaw bore witness to his strength and stubbornness which had formerly hid beneath a cloak of heroic charm.

He was, by every measure, the exact opposite of his overbearing father. Even years ago, she knew that was true. Alastair had proven he was every bit the warrior his father had been, but he was also gentle and kind. In the days they’d spent together between their betrothal and their wedding, she’d become giddy when Alastair drew near. Her breath had caught, and a sensation in her stomach had taken flight.

Those same sensations had swamped her moments ago upon seeing him again. But his eyes had been hard, unrelenting, filled with pain. Her stomach clenched at the thought. She’d done that to him, to them, by disappearing on the most important day in both of their lives thus far.

“Move faster,” Garrick prompted from behind, indicating her steps had slowed.

She wanted to stop and challenge Garrick as she’d played out in her mind over the years. She would finally stand up to him and fight back. But how could she do such a thing when he held the lives of her siblings in his hands? With a soft sigh, Gwendolyn pressed forward into the darkness. She had no idea where she was headed, but it didn’t really matter. Garrick controlled her life as much now that she was free of her chain as he had while she had been imprisoned in the tower.

Keeping her siblings safe was all that mattered.

“Gwendolyn!” A voice came from behind them in the darkness. The sound of it rocked her. She drew in a tight breath. It had been five years since she’d heard Alastair call her name. His voice was deep and low-toned, with a brogue that carried a certain tension today.

“Keep going,” Garrick snarled, pressing her forward.

“Gwendolyn. Your brother and sister are free. They are safe.” Alastair’s voice was vibrant with urgency.

Her throat tightened as she twisted around. Could it be true? Had they been set free? Would she finally be able to take them away, to make a life for her little family someplace else? Instead of moving forward, she stopped. What did she have to lose? The air in the passageway was cold and dank, making it difficult to catch her breath.

“He’s lying. I still have your siblings under my control. Do as I say or they will suffer,” Garrick threatened.

Her mind spinning, Gwendolyn simply stared at the man before her. Who should she believe—the man who had hurt her and her family for years, or the man who had never once harmed her?

Garrick’s breathing was tight and loud, giving evidence to his displeasure that she continued to remain where she stood. “Turn around and keep moving!”

Hope flared at the same moment she surged forward, hitting both Garrick and the heavy glass panel he clutched in his hands with the full force of her body. Her captor stumbled backwards at the unexpected attack. He would never be able to save the glass and recapture her at the same time. As he struggled to regain his footing, Gwendolyn realised he blocked her path back to Alastair. Too panicked to think of other options, she spun and raced through the tunnel ahead, not knowing where she was going. It didn’t matter as long as she was away from Garrick.

Heavy footsteps followed behind and terror closed around her heart until she could scarcely breathe. Dank, smelly darkness closed in on her. The muscles of her legs cramped from the lack of use over the years, but she dared not stop. Clasping her skirt in her hands to keep herself from tripping, she hitched in a shallow breath and followed the corridor until it came to the end. She had to choose: left or right.

Without a hesitation in her step, she moved right, praying it would take her somewhere safe, somewhere she could at least hide. As her feet pounded against the stone floor, her hands clenched convulsively against the fabric in her grasp. She’d lived in fear for so long. She would run and keep on running for as long as she had to in order to find freedom.

A crash came from behind. At the sound, Gwendolyn stumbled, then caught herself and kept going. All that mattered was what lay before her. She ran faster, her breath coming in quick, painful gasps. Though she could not see them through the darkness, she could feel the walls on either side of the passageway were close to her body. Instead of disturbing her, she took comfort in the fact that even though she couldn’t see through the darkness, she couldn’t go astray in the chiseled-stone passageway.

Suddenly a grey image appeared before her, startling Gwendolyn to a sudden halt. The Grey Lady’s spectral-self floated above the stone floor, making her appear eerie and alarming, yet Gwendolyn knew she was not. The Grey Lady motioned, encouraging Gwendolyn to follow. Her hands were still bound behind her, and she longed to be free, but knew the Grey Lady could not free her. She would have to search for another way to sever the ropes at her wrists.

Gwendolyn stayed close as the Grey Lady’s spirit cast a hazy light in the space around them. Gwendolyn raised her chin and made her way through the passageway. She heard the thudding of her heart in her ears and. . .and nothing else.

Her steps faltered. Garrick was no longer chasing her. Had he gone the opposite direction when the passageway had come to two divergent paths? Did that mean she would have time to hide herself? Or would Garrick be waiting for her when she and the Grey Lady exited the passageway?

Her own ragged bursts of breath thundered in the quiet. If Garrick was there, she’d find a way to fight him, to the death if necessary. For she would rather die than be held prisoner again.

Ahead, a tiny pinpoint of light appeared. With each step the light grew larger until Gwendolyn could clearly see stairs leading downwards. At the bottom of the staircase she came out into the old kitchen. It was empty, for which she was grateful.

The Grey Lady signalled for Gwendolyn to follow her from the chamber and into another darkened space. Instantly the smell of fermenting grapes hit her, and she knew they had entered the wine cellar.

Hide here.

The Grey Lady’s words filled Gwendolyn’s thoughts and sent a shudder of fear down her spine. “I cannot stay here. ’Tis another room that might trap me. Nay, I cannot do it.”

Trust me.

“I do trust you. You have been nothing but kind to me and my siblings over the years, but you have to see that this chamber is no safer than the tower.”

You will be safe. I will protect you.