Page 25 of The Return of the Heir

“Where shall we search next?” Graeme asked, closing the panel behind them.

“While I continue to search, I want you to gather some men to guard each of these exit points in case Garrick decides to utilise them at some future time. The more we block off his access, the sooner he will have to show himself.”

“It isn’t wise for either of us to be alone,” Graeme said with a frown.

“You and I are both far more skilled in the art of warfare than Garrick. I think we can manage ourselves for a few minutes alone.”

Graeme still hesitated. “If you’re certain.”

“I am.” He straightened. “The faster you leave, the faster you can return.”

“Where will I find you?” Graeme asked.

“I’ll head back to the old kitchen and wine cellar in case Garrick looped back around to hide there.”

“I’ll return shortly. Don’t lose your head before then,” Graeme’s tone was light but the look in his eyes was as serious as Alastair had ever seen.

At Graeme’s departure, Alastair headed down the main staircase to the old kitchen in order to save time. He would find his way back into the tunnels there to continue his search. Garrick didn’t have many places he could hide. That Alastair or his men had not found the villain yet meant Garrick was somehow keeping one step ahead of them and was constantly on the move, avoiding detection. The trick would be to catch Garrick unaware, which Alastair intended to do. Once in the old kitchen, he set his torch in the hearth, and silently he backed up into the darkness of the tunnel to wait.

He didn’t have to wait long. The door of the old kitchen opened, and two shadowed figures moved inside the chamber followed by the slightly illuminated figure of his mother.

“This old part of the castle feels haunted.” Instantly, Rowena cringed and turned to their mother. “My apologies, Mother. I do not mean by you. There is an eeriness to this place that is hard to shake.”

Alastair left the shadows. “What are you doing here?”

Gwendolyn and Rowena shrieked at his sudden appearance. Rowena’s hand flew to cover her mouth, while Gwendolyn’s face merely paled. Recovering from her fright, Rowena stepped forward and punched him in the arm. “You fool, you scared us.”

He rubbed his assaulted appendage. “That doesn’t answer my question. Why are you not in your beds?”

“Mother was worried you were in danger.”

His gaze lingered on each of them in turn. “So the three of you thought to come to my rescue?”

Rather than look at him, Gwendolyn stared, as if fascinated, at the flames consuming the torch he’d set in the hearth.

Alastair stood there as well, nervously rubbing the palms of his hands against the sides of his legs. When he realised what he was doing, he clutched his hands before him. “Well, now that you see I am unharmed, you can leave.”

Gwendolyn’s gaze shot back to his. “Why are you alone?”

Before he could answer, a shuffling sounded in the tunnel behind him. He twisted around, expecting to see Graeme. Instead, Garrick MacDonald advanced on them. He smiled evilly as he came forward, swinging a sword at Alastair’s head. “Five years I’ve waited for the heir to return home. Five long years, you bastard.”

“Take cover.” Alastair grasped Gwendolyn’s arm and pushed her behind him before he did the same to Rowena. He stepped forward inside the arc of the sword. He grabbed Garrick’s arm with one hand and used the man’s own momentum to throw him off balance. “You had no right to be here at all.”

Garrick did not go down. Instead, he found his balance and continued to scowl at Alastair. “I had every right to violate you as much as you have violated me.”

Alastair drew his own sword. “If you had a grievance with me, you should have taken it up with me and not three innocents.”

He thrust his sword at Alastair’s chest.

Alastair instinctively leapt back. The two men circled each other, looking for an opening to strike.

“I wanted to make certain before I killed you that you knew I could hurt you in ways you never expected. I waited to put a blade through your bride’s chest until you could watch me do it—watch me rob you of every joy in your life just as your clan robbed me of mine when they murdered my parents and my siblings.”

Garrick swung his blade, but Alastair blocked the strike just as he noticed a shadow shift behind his opponent. Alastair’s blood ran cold when he saw Gwendolyn creeping up behind Garrick. He’d told her to hide. Quickly he shifted his gaze back at Garrick just as another swipe came at him.

Gwendolyn rose up behind Garrick and smashed a bottle of wine over his head. A sickening thump sounded as Garrick yelped and lurched forward, totally caught off guard.

Alastair stepped in and seized his opponent’s sword, then smashed his boot into the side of Garrick’s knee, taking him to the ground. He needed rope to tie the wastrel up but had none. Instead, while Garrick groaned and clutched his leg, Alastair pulled at the hem of his shirt, intending to rip it into long lengths. Gwendolyn stopped him with a touch to his hand.