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A quiet gasp escaped her lips. Could it be that he had found the secret passage that wended through the rock to the firth? Or perhaps he had always known about it. Perhaps he was even now making his way toward the boat that waited on the water far below. But to what end?

Quietly leaving her hiding place, she pattered carefully down the hall and pressed her spine against the wall beside the bedchamber door.

Not a whisper of sound did she hear. When the silence continued, she glanced inside.

The room was dark, quiet, empty, but beside the bed. .. might there be a glimmer of light?

Stepping quietly into the room, she saw that the tapestry that adorned the wall had been pressed aside and the tiny door behind it had been left ajar.

It seemed she had little choice but to step through that portal and into the dark passageway. Little choice but to trip quietly through the blackness, fingers skimming the rough stone as she wended her way toward the heart of the mountain.

Why would he go to the boat? Where did he wish to be, and how did he plan to coerce the oarsman into following his directives? After all, the boat was meant to be used for emergencies only. Unless MacGowan planned some evil against the guard. Unless...

Her thoughts stopped abruptly, for in that instant, her fingers met thinnest air.

The wall had disappeared. She stumbled to a halt, catching herself, and finding that that very wall continued only inches away.

And yet, as she felt breathlessly about, she found that it was not the wall after all, but a door of sorts, made of the same stone that the hallway was carved from.

Pushing her hand cautiously into the opening, she moved it slightly.

It swung wide without a sound. She drew a careful breath, said a prayer, and stepped silently through.

The passage was narrow on the other side. Although she could see nothing, she could feel the closeness without even reaching out to the walls beside her. She moved more slowly now, down and inward, her heart thrumming in her chest.

It seemed like an eternity before she saw the glimmer of light to her right.

She stopped, listening. Still, she could hear naught but the sound of her own breath in the darkness.

Thus she moved, slowly, ever so slowly until she came to a gray rectangle that outlined an opening in the rock.

No sound disturbed her, so she turned and peered into the chamber.

It was dark but for a pale, distant light shining from behind a wall.

A trunk stood near the door, but otherwise it was empty.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the chamber.

A dark form reared over her. She shrieked, jumping backward and knocking the door closed. The shadow swore and stumbled to a halt.

"Bugger it!"

"MacGowan?" Her voice quavered on his name as she pressed her back against the rough wood of the portal behind her.

"What the devil are you doing here?"

Anger swelled up on the wings of her fright. "That is me own question to ask," she said. "What were you doing in me sister's chambers?"

Even in the dim light, she could see that his brows were pulled low over his eyes.

"I wished to talk to you," he said. "But I found the light rather disturbing."

"What light?"

"The one that shone from behind the tapestry."

"The hidden door was open?"

"Nay."

"Then 'tis not possible that you could have seen a light."

"One would tend to agree," he admitted. "Unless Senga has a penchant for making mischief. I brought no light with me, and yet the candle glowed in this chamber."

She stared at him. Was he joking or did he believe in shades? And if he believed, how much foolishness would he believe about herself and her sister? "Why are you here?"

"At Evermyst, or at—"

"Here," she interrupted. "In this chamber. And how did you find it? I have lived at Evermyst for some time and never knew of its presence."

He shrugged. "As I said, there was a light. Why are you here?"

Good question. "When I... returned to me sister's chamber I saw that the passage had been breached."

"But you did not know by whom?"

She carefully kept from fidgeting. "Nay. How could I?"

He grinned a little, his teeth as white as the bandage that crossed his bare chest. "You were following me."

"And why would I do that, MacGowan?"

"Because you are in love with me."

"I am not."

"Aye, lass, you are," he said and stepped toward her. "But you are afraid to admit it."

She managed a laugh. It was not very convincing, but it was the best she could do under the circumstances. "You have forever thought much too highly of yourself, MacGowan."

"Mayhap," he acquiesced and took a few deliberate steps around her, as if examining her from the side. "But perhaps not so highly as you think of me."

"You, me laird, are deluded."

"Why were you following me?"

"I was not—"

"Why did you come to the infirmary?"

She felt her face redden. "How did you know—" She halted, catching herself, but his brows were already raised.

"I was awake," he said, then grinned with evil happiness. "Or was there another time? Tell me, sweet Bel, did you come back to watch me whilst I slept?"

"Nay," she said and he laughed.

"Why not admit it?"

"Because it is not true."

"I haven't even told you what to admit yet."

"But I know it will be false."

"You wonder about me," he said. "You wonder if I am as good as I think am."

She said nothing.

"The truth is this, lass," he said, his expression almost sober. "No one is as good as I think I am."

Her lips parted in surprise but he continued on.

"The truth is this, Bel; luck was with me when wee Mary fell. Naught else, for as you know I am not a powerful swimmer."

"Modesty?" she asked. "From you, MacGowan?"

He snorted. "Far from it. I simply have no wish for you to believe some nonsensical prophesy that was spoken long before our time."

"I am not Helena, who believes—" She saw the trap, but it was already too late. His delighted grin told her as much.

"You heard?" he asked. "You were listening to me conversation with the woman."

"Nay, I—"

"You were hiding in the hall," he countered, "eavesdropping as I spoke in the nursery."

"You're daft."

"Why did you come, Bel? Could it be that you could stay away no longer?" He took a step forward. "Could it be that you dream of me in your lonely bed and came to search for me?" He touched her cheek, and she swatted his hand away.

"I was not eavesdropping. I only came to check on the babe."

"I dream of you, also," he said. "But I will not let you believe that which is not true."

"Then you are admitting that you are a daft cad who—"

"I am saying that we were not sent to replace Ramsay and Anora. Nor were we sent to fulfill some foolish prophesy."

"I never thought so," she said.

" 'Tis good," he said. "For when you give yourself to me, I do not want to think 'tis because of some misguided belief."

She tried to think of some scathing rejoinder, but for the life of her, she couldn't. In fact, when she looked into his eyes, it was all she could do to continue to breathe.

“Tell me, Bel," he murmured, lifting his hand to her cheek again. "Is it time?"

Desire curled like wood smoke through her, and though she ordered her feet to move, they would not.

"Are you ready?" he asked and kissed her. "I ask, for I must warn you: once you give yourself to me, I shall never let you go."

Panic washed over her. Breaking away, she reached for the door. She jerked the latch, but nothing happened. Breathing hard, she tried again, but it was no use.

They were locked in.