Page 18 of The Highlander’s Fallen Angel (Brotherhood of Solway Moss #2)

Oubliettes or Pit Prisons “were deep, narrow pits where someone could be imprisoned indefinitely. Lacking food, water, sunshine, and any means of escape, the prisoners very quickly broke—if they were allowed back out at all.”

All That’s Interesting.com

Tierney ran toward the corridor where Cora had emerged before she realized she had no idea where this pit resided. Sneachda barked, running after her, and Rory’s old dog added to the barking as if not to be left out.

“That blasted dungeon pit needs to be covered,” Sara said, hurrying behind her.

“You have a pit prison?” Tierney asked. What type of people were the MacLeods?

“Did she fall in?” Kenan asked, surging ahead and then spinning to look at Rory and Sara, his gaze falling on Cora. “Someone who lives here, lead the bloody way!” His voice boomed out with frustrated authority, and Rory ran ahead.

“I don’t think she fell,” Cora said, her breathing hard. “She’s…singing down there.”

“The poor lass has lost her mind,” Simon said as the group hurried after Rory, the dogs’ nails scratching on the floorboards as they whipped around a bend in the corridor.

Kenan and Tierney ran right on Rory’s heels, following him down the dimly lit staircase into the bowels of the castle. She was halfway down, her fingers brushing the damp walls to guide her, when she realized she couldn’t pull in enough breath. The mindless panic of being trapped reared up inside her. But this was nothing like being trapped in a closet.

She stumbled, her hand going out to fall on Kenan’s arm. Firm and solid, her fingers curled inward as if she were once again drowning in the sea.

“Tierney?” he said.

“I…I have trouble with small places.” Her breathing was too shallow, and stars began to spark around the edges of her vision.

“Mama,” Maggie’s sing-song voice floated up from the darkness below.

“Maggie,” she whispered. “Get me down there,” she said, turning to Kenan. “Go, go, go.”

He continued down the steps, her hand on his arm, and she concentrated on keeping her breath even. They reached the bottom, which opened into a corridor of damp cobblestone. “I’m coming, sweet,” Tierney called and hurried forward, thankful that the ceiling was higher, allowing air flow. Still, her breath was too shallow.

Sara and Rory stood looking down at a hole in the floor. “There was a rope ladder,” Rory said. He tried to grab the thick rope dangling over the center of the hole, its end disappearing down into the darkness. “Where’s the hook to catch it?”

“’Tis down here with me,” Maggie called up. “I used it to grab the rope, and it fell down here. The ladder’s down here, too.”

“Does it hold weight?” Kenan asked Rory.

“Aye. ’Tis strong enough to hold a horse.”

Tierney threw herself down on the stone floor, lowering a taper she’d lit from the sconce on the wall as far as she could into the hole. “How bloody far down is it?” she asked. She could just make out Maggie’s lifted face and the shine of her eyes with the flamelight.

“Thirteen feet,” Sara said, “and the tide comes in at the bottom. Holy Mother Mary, what is the tide right now?”

“Are yer feet wet?” Kenan asked, and Tierney realized he was right next to her on his knees.

“Yes,” Maggie said. “And cold. I want to come back up. I only wanted to see how far down it went.” She sounded remorseful. Her child’s curiosity was more powerful than her common sense. “But I can’t get back up.” Tierney heard the quiver in her daughter’s voice.

“We’ll get you back up as fast as we can,” she said. “How far up your leg is the water?”

“It wasn’t deep when I got down, but now ’tis up to my ankles. Is it going to keep rising?” Her little voice squeaked with the last question.

Sara murmured a curse behind Tierney. “The tide is coming in.”

Before Tierney could even stand up, Kenan rose and leaped, grabbing hold of the rope that dangled over the center of the hole. “Stand against a wall, Maggie,” he called. His gaze met Tierney’s. “I’ll get her.” With that, he lowered himself hand over hand, his legs easily wrapping around the thick rope to slow his descent.

“Stand back,” Tierney called down. “Kenan is coming to save you, sweeting.” When Maggie was born, Tierney’s heart was no longer her own, safe in her chest behind ribs. It now resided outside of her body in the form of Maggie, vulnerable like never before.

Tierney had told herself she didn’t need anyone else, that she could take care of herself and her daughter completely. But in this dank darkness surrounded by stone, when her heart wouldn’t slow enough to keep her wits, Kenan was literally jumping in to save Maggie, save Tierney’s heart. She blinked back tears.

“Don’t fall on the girl,” yelled one of the old men behind her.

“Have ye reached her yet?” the other of the odd pair asked.

“The lass shouldn’t have been left alone,” said Henry, and guilt sunk like needles into Tierney’s middle. Everyone started talking at once.

“Will he be able to—?”

“Lady Tierney should have—”

“She can’t be everywhere at once.”

“I but went to the privy, and she disappeared.”

“Hush,” Sara called. “We can’t hear.”

Everyone fell silent. Only the drip of water in the corridor could be heard along with soft words below in the dark pit. Kenan’s deep rumble mixed with Maggie’s higher-pitched voice. The sound of water funneled up from the bottom.

“I’ve got ye. No more wet feet,” Kenan said, and Tierney clutched her hands before her in wordless prayer.

“’Tis cold down here,” Maggie said but didn’t sound upset. She was merely relaying information to Kenan. “And I can smell meat cooking. ’Tis making me hungry.”

“I smell it, too,” Kenan said.

“I hope ’tis what we’re having for dinner.”

“That’s to torture prisoners even more,” one of the old men whispered behind Tierney. “Kitchen is on the other side of the wall so poor souls can smell food while they starve.”

“We are filling this pit in with rocks immediately,” Sara whispered, anger lacing her words.

“Aye, of course,” Rory said.

“Like this afternoon,” she continued.

“Aye, love,” Rory said.

“This rope ladder doesn’t help much when ’tis not attached at the top, does it?” Kenan said.

“No,” Maggie said. “I should have tied a bowline knot. My simple square knot slipped by the time I got near the bottom.”

Good Lord, she could have fallen, knocked her head on the stone, and drowned in the incoming tide. Tierney’s lungs felt squeezed, and she struggled to take in slow, even breaths. Cold prickles spread out from the center of her body to send goose bumps over her skin.

“She knows knots?” Sara asked in a whisper.

Tierney nodded without taking her gaze from the dark hole. After another even breath, she spoke. “She will know how to survive in the forest on her own by the time she’s of marriageable age.”

No one asked why, although she was certain Henry knew. She’d never let her daughter get trapped in a marriage like she had.

“Can ye hold onto my shoulders while I climb up the rope?” Kenan asked.

Tierney cupped her mouth. “Wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.”

“I will, Mama.”

“Throw me down another rope,” Kenan called. “I’m going to tie her to me.”

Rory moved away while Sara whispered in Tierney’s ear. “Precaution if Maggie’s limbs are weak from cold.”

“Coming down now,” Rory called before dropping a thinner rope into the pit.

Splash. Tierney, Sara, and Cora leaned over the hole with Rory standing. Minutes passed as Kenan tied her to him.

“So ye sing like yer mama?”

“Yes. I love to sing. Mama only sings to me, though.”

“We’re going to climb now,” he said. “Hold on tight.”

“I will with all my strength.”

The now-taut rope shook above the hole as Kenan climbed. His fists appeared first, clasping the rope, and his arms bulged as he hefted himself and Maggie hand over hand. His head appeared, and then his handsome face, Maggie’s little arms around his neck. Tierney released her breath when she saw Maggie, her little face pressed into Kenan’s back. The bottom of her skirts showed the water that had inched up her legs, and Tierney shivered.

Kenan held the rope with one hand while he yanked a rag from his belt. “Catch this to pull us closer to the edge.” He flicked the long rag toward Rory.

Rory caught the end and swung Kenan toward the edge. “’Tis probably best to untie her first and take her from me.”

“Hold me,” Tierney said to Sara, who threw another rope around her middle. Rory held the dangling pair close while Tierney leaned over the wide hole to catch at Maggie. She recognized the knot and worked at it quickly.

“We’ve got you.” The rope cut into Tierney’s stomach, and she glanced over her shoulder to see the two old MacLeods, Henry, and Sara all holding the length behind her. Maggie, her little arms reaching for her, waited. Finally, the knot slipped, and Tierney pulled her off Kenan’s strong back. Her little girl held onto Tierney with ferocity.

Over her blond curls, Tierney saw Kenan swing across the gap, landing on solid ground with a thump. He straightened with ease, making Tierney wish once again she’d been born with the muscles of a man. But then she wouldn’t have her sweet child.

“I’m sorry, Mama,” Maggie said, smashing her face against the hollow of Tierney’s neck and wrapping her legs around her mother like she did with Kenan.

“Are you sorry because you climbed down there or that you didn’t tie the knot that would have given you a way to climb back out?” Tierney asked, glancing down when Maggie turned her face up to her.

Maggie smiled shyly but still looked worried. “The knot.”

Tierney still trembled but couldn’t stop her relieved smile. She kissed her daughter’s head. “We are going to have a long talk about how curious little kittens get themselves killed if they chase after everything.”

“Yes, Mama.”

Rory thumped Kenan’s shoulder. “Valiant effort.”

Kenan looked over to Tierney. “She is well?”

Tierney nodded. “Thank you.” The two words didn’t seem enough. She wanted to run to him, hug him, tell him how grateful she was, show him with her whole, naked body. But for now, she just stared into his eyes and simply said, “You are a hero.”

“And we’re filling in that pit today,” Sara said. “For now, close the door over it.”

Holy Joan, there was a door over the top so that a prisoner could be confined down there in total darkness. “I need to get Maggie above,” she said, turning.

Two steps toward the stairs and she felt Kenan at her side, his hand gently on her arm as if he worried that she’d start to breathe unevenly again. But she held Maggie, knowing she was safe, and the world felt solid once more.

“There’s a swing on a tree in the kitchen garden,” Sara said from behind. “Let’s take Maggie there after she’s changed into dry clothes.”

…

“She’s asleep,” Cora said, shooing Tierney out into the corridor and softly shutting the door behind them. “Find your own bed. I will sleep with her.”

Her own bed? Where was that? She and Kenan had been given one of the rooms with one large bed, and every inch of her skin wanted to seek him out. But something had happened today when she’d watched him jump into the dark pit to save Maggie. Tierney recognized a tightening of the heart, a whispered wish to truly trust him, tie herself to him and his kind ways. A desire to break the vow she’d given herself never to allow imprisonment of any kind ever again. She’d gotten out from under her father’s thumb only to be thrust under Wallace’s body and wifely shackles. As a widow, she was free and would remain so.

“People will think I should be with Maggie after her ordeal,” Tierney said.

Cora frowned. “Maggie is hale and hearty and can’t stop talking about her grand adventure down into a water-filling pit and how Kenan rescued her like a knight of legend.”

Tierney sighed. Her daughter had the same danger streak in her that Tierney now recognized in herself. “She’s going to create mad plans of her own,” Tierney said with a sigh.

Cora laughed softly. “We better find her a best friend who can help keep her feet on the ground.”

Tierney raised an eyebrow. “If that’s what you’re supposed to be doing, you aren’t doing a good job of it.”

Cora playfully thumped her arm. “Go on now.” She opened the door silently and slipped back inside. She stared at Tierney as she shut the door slowly, a teasing smile curing her lips. “I know you want to go thank him proper.” Click.

And Tierney did, oh, how she did. Tierney felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She wanted to go to Kenan and kiss him, every inch of him. Striding down the hall, she stopped before the door of the room Margaret had given them without a backward glance about the propriety. Everyone thought they were handfasted.

Was he inside? Dunvegan Castle was silent. No voices filtered up from the Great Hall. ’Twas late, but she was restless. She rested her palm on the solid wall at the side of the door, hesitating. Should she go to him? Her body ached for his touch. But shame lay a heavy blanket over it.

Ye’re selfish . Her father’s words, repeated by Henry and then Wallace, haunted her. Her acts had possibly ruined Kenan’s alliance with the Mackinnon Clan. She would never be good enough to deserve a loving relationship.

Even after Kenan had told her he was betrothed, she’d allowed him to lie to save her pride before Henry and her clan. With her swirling thoughts, shame smothered her lust. Kenan was a good man, trying to save everyone, and she had been using him. And when he’d saved Maggie without a second thought, he’d cracked into her heart. She needed to think things through before losing her mind to the thirst between them. Because she’d never be good enough to keep him for long.

Tierney turned from the door and continued down the curving staircase. The fresh air and stars called to her. Perhaps it would clear her mind. When Wallace lived, she’d spent many nights up in trees, avoiding his bed and trying to plan a way out of her marriage. She’d learned to tie herself to branches to prevent her from falling or hanging herself, something she was already teaching Maggie. Although she would never allow her sweet daughter to be traded away like she’d been.

Tierney moved like a shadow through the sparsely lit corridors of Dunvegan Castle, through the kitchen with the snoring cook, Fiona, and out into the open air of the garden where Sara had pushed Maggie on the swing earlier. The ten-foot-tall wall around it prevented people from trying to climb out and into the sea, but the tree holding the swing had grown above it. The sturdy boards held aloft by chains would never get her as high as she wished, so she stood upon it in her slippers, head tipped back to search for a branch.

Grabbing a thick limb with the crook of her arm, she swung a leg up to it, her petticoat fanning out. She hoisted herself and got her feet under her to stand, reaching for another branch. She didn’t look down, only up to where she longed to be. Where the breeze could cool her shameful flush, and she could think.

The summer leaves rustled, and the sound of gentle waves below in the darkness soothed. The unblocked wind off the sea moved the branches and rushed by her ears.

“Are ye planning to sleep there?”

Tierney’s heart galloped at the sound of Kenan’s deep voice below her. With the wind in her ears, she hadn’t heard his approach. Had he followed her?

“Perhaps.”

“With all the fine beds at Dunvegan? My sister will be embarrassed that her guest couldn’t find comfort within her home.” His words were teasing, but there was an underlying hardness. Not anger but…hurt, perhaps.

“I came out here to think, and I do that best up in the air.”

The limbs quivered as Kenan grabbed onto the same branch she’d used, making it dip with his weight. He hoisted his large form up, climbing another level so that his face was even with hers. The darkness shrouded them as much as the fluttering leaves. “And what are ye thinking about?”

She looked away from him. It was easier that way. “I think…you should do what is good for your clan. Dragging you into the mess of my life was dishonorable. I didn’t mean to cause strife between you and your friend and certainly not war. If you want to say we never handfasted, I will admit it as true.” It would mar her reputation, but she didn’t have one of modesty anyways. She was also a widow, which gave her some social freedom to act loose without condemnation.

The wind had increased, making their perch sway and creak. Tierney could feel rather than hear Kenan drawing closer to her, his boots balanced two limbs below. It was as if he gave off heat or some energy that made her skin come alive and her breath halt, waiting for his touch. She tried to keep her attention on the quickly moving clouds outlined in the sporadic moonlight, but her body tingled. Lord help her, she couldn’t control her reaction to him.

“And that’s why ye’re sleeping in a tree?”

The hint of laughter in his voice made her face snap to his, her frown in place. “Do I look like I’m sleeping?” Mo chreach. She wasn’t angry at him. She smoothed her voice. “I’m just thinking and regretting some of my choices.”

“Like drugging and shackling a man ye don’t know?” He leaned in closer to her face, and she held her breath. “Instead of jumping right to plan number three?”

His lips were mere inches away. Kind eyes met hers despite her waspish tongue. His cheekbones were defined and his jawline firm. Only the bump of a poorly set broken nose could be considered a flaw, although she didn’t. That and the scars on his back meant he was human, fallible, and experienced with pain like her.

“I don’t think plan number three would have worked,” she said. “Not with Grace Mackinnon waiting for you at the wedding celebration.”

His hand rose, and she felt his callused thumb stroke her cheek. An urge to press her face into his palm nearly overwhelmed her, but she kept her seat on the limb, her fingers curling into the bark of the trunk to steady herself. “Grace Mackinnon was only ever an alliance,” he said.

“A duty,” she said, remembering her own sacrifice for an alliance with Clan Macqueen. Although at first, she’d been naively hopeful, infatuated with Wallace’s dashing good looks. Things with Kenan had been reversed. They had lain together before any legal entrapment had been sprung. And it had been…wonderful, a memory she would cherish.

His thumb brushed her lower lip, and she felt herself leaning toward him. The wind seemed to blow against her back in a push, and she didn’t fight it.

“A duty that ye saved me from.” Kenan’s arm went behind her, helping with the wind to pull her off the limb to balance in his arms. Her legs slid down his, her slippers resting on his boots. “I know now that wedding Grace would have been a mistake.”

Her heart danced at his words. “Truly?”

“It would have ended in war.” His hand cupped her face. “Ye saved that from happening.”

Her face lifted and their lips met. Her eyes shut to the feel of being surrounded by this man and his kind strength. She slanted easily against his now-familiar mouth, and the fingers of her free hand curled into his tunic, holding herself to him where they balanced. Heat flared instantly, burning past guilt, shame, and any regret. Tierney knew where she wanted to be, within Kenan Macdonald’s arms.

Kenan shifted, pulling her completely off her branch to balance with him on his limb. The wind shook the tree, rushing around them, mimicking the wild dance of blood and aching Tierney felt thrumming through her. This did not feel selfish, not when Kenan pulled her to him, and she gave in to the need.

Creakkkk… Crack!

Tierney’s breath caught, and her instinct was to clutch onto Kenan. But he was no match against nature, and they dropped, the limb falling down from under them.