Amanda Scott (9 page)

“Guard your temper, lass,” he said. “In truth, I did not know you had one.”

“You do not know me at all,” she snapped, as angry that he had stirred her temper as for any other reason. “I tell you, I do not want to answer your foolish questions and I do not want to marry Ewan MacCrichton. Indeed, sir, I will
not
marry him, and he and you can both go to the devil!” Wrenching herself free, she began to stride up the hill, but he caught her again and pulled her back to him.

Struggling, increasingly frantic, she kicked him. “Let me go! Please, you must. A child’s life may depend upon it!”

Duncan’s hand tightened on her arm, but the expression on his face altered ludicrously. “A child? What child? Here now, tell me at once. What nonsense are you spouting now?”

“You wouldn’t believe me. Just let me go. I don’t want your help.”

“Now you’re being petulant,” he said, and to her amazement he no longer sounded angry or as if he were mocking her. He went on steadily, “I have no cause not to believe what you tell me, Mary Maclaine. I’ve accused you of many things in the past, but I have never accused you of being untruthful. I doubt that anyone in Appin country has ever accused you of that.”

She looked at him and saw that for once he was sincere. “Would you help?”

“Of course, if I can. What happened? What child are you talking about?”

It occurred to her that he might disapprove as much as Ewan would of her having let the children accompany her, but Pinkie’s plight was too desperate to worry about that. She said, “Two children came with me from Shian, sir, and one of them has slipped into a crevice in the rocks above here. We cannot get her out without help.”

“Children, eh. Might one of them have possessed a rope earlier today?”

“He has not got it now,” she said tartly. “Will you help us, or will you not? Because if you refuse, I must go at once to find someone else.”

“Don’t be daft,” Duncan said in a tone nearly as sharp as hers. “I am not nearly the villain you believe me to be. Of course, I will help.” Turning, he gave a piercing whistle similar to the one she had heard before. Shortly afterward, three men on horseback, followed by a black and white collie, rode up the hill toward them. When they had drawn rein, Duncan said, “Denoon, you stay with these horses. Bannatyne, you and Coulter come with me.” Handing his reins to the one he called Denoon, he turned back to Mary. “Which way, lass?”

“Have you got any rope, sir?”

“Bannatyne?”

“No, sir, any we had was on the boat.”

“Bannatyne seldom disappoints me,” Duncan said, “but I think we can manage well enough without rope. Now, where is the child?”

“This way.” Hurrying, she led the men back up the hill and across the granite slab. It was drying now that the rain had stopped, but she could tell by the sky that the respite would not last for long. They clambered over the rocks to the top, and when she did not instantly see Chuff, she hurried to the edge. Just as she had feared, the boy was below, balanced precariously on the narrow, jagged ledge that served as the outer lip of the crevice. “Chuff, what are you doing down there?”

“Pinkie were scared,” he said. “I didna try tae climb doon in, though. I knew ye’d be angersome gin I did. I meant tae get back up afore ye came back,” he added, “but I couldna find my footing, and I feared that I might fall in, too.”

“Then you were wise to stay put, lad,” Duncan said. “Here, reach up your hand to me.”

“Did ye come tae help us, then?”

“I did. Give me your hand.”

“I told him to stay up here,” Mary said, watching with her heart in her throat while Chuff maneuvered to reach a hand up to Duncan.

“Don’t scold him now,” Duncan said. “First, we’ll get him and the lass safe.”

“I don’t mean to scold him at all,” she said.

“That shows one difference between us then,” he muttered. He was on his belly, leaning over as far as he could. When it became evident that he would not be able to reach the boy so easily, he edged forward, finally ordering Bannatyne and Coulter to hold his feet. “I can’t just jump down there,” he explained. “He’s balanced on the outer edge of the crevice, so there’s open space below him on both sides, a good twenty feet of it to the slope. And that’s naught but scree and gravel.”

While the men held Duncan’s feet, Mary looked over to watch. Seeing again that sinister dark cleft in the granite wall, she thought again how miraculous it was that the child had somehow slipped into it instead of falling to her death. “How far down is Pinkie?” she asked Chuff when Duncan hauled him up at last. “I can see only blackness in that crevice after the first few feet.”

Chuff looked at her, then at Duncan and the other two. “About as far as if Himself there was tae stand on top o’ that ’un,” he said, pointing at Coulter, who was short and stocky, barely reaching Bannatyne’s shoulder, let alone Duncan’s.

Duncan frowned. “So she’s in that crevice, is she?”

Mary nodded. “Can you get to her, sir. She must be terrified.”

“Pinkie was crying afore ye came,” Chuff informed them solemnly.

“We’ll soon have her out of there,” Duncan said, patting the boy’s head.

Imagining Pinkie’s terror sent shivers up and down Mary’s spine. Only too easily could she imagine the eerie depths of the dark, damp crevice. Her breathing quickened, and she could almost hear the thudding of her heart. “Oh, hurry, sir!”

“Steady, lass, we’ll get her. Bannatyne, give me a hand. I mean to climb down where the lad was and take a closer look.”

Moments later, he called up to them. “I cannot reach her, and she says the sides are too steep for her to crawl out. I can barely see her, for that matter, so I’d guess she’s farther down than the lad estimated, perhaps fifteen feet.”

“She said she hurt her foot,” Mary told him.

“Aye, she told me that, as well. Are you lads wearing belts?”

They were, but the three belts fastened together did not reach. Chuff unwound the twisted rawhide-strips that served him as a belt and handed them down, but it was no use.

“We could tie all our shirts together,” Bannatyne suggested.

“Don’t take your clothes off yet,” Duncan said. “I don’t think she can simply hold on to a makeshift rope even if it reaches her, especially if she tries to climb that steep slope with an injured foot. We’ll have to contrive a loop of some sort for her to slip one hand through.”

“Can’t you get down to her?” Mary asked him.

“I’m too big. I can get my head and shoulders in, barely, but I’d never be able to maneuver, and if I got stuck, we’d really have trouble.”

Coulter said diffidently, “I’m smaller, master. Perhaps I can fit.”

“Come down then and try,” Duncan said. “Help him, Bannatyne. I can guide his feet from here, but you’ll need to steady him from up there so he doesn’t fall.”

Soon Coulter stood precariously beside him on the narrow lip of the crevice, but a moment later Mary saw the smaller man shake his head.

“He’s no so small as all that,” Chuff said, clutching his baggy breeches to keep them from falling down. “Ye should put me doon there.”

Feeling desperate now, Mary looked at Duncan. He appeared to consider the boy’s suggestion for a long moment, then said, “Do you think you could hold her, Chuff? Don’t just say aye now. Think about it, because she could get hurt much more than she is now if you misjudge your strength. We can tie the belts around you, but you’d have to reach down to her, even so, and pull her up by one hand so that you can maneuver with the other.”

Chuff said stoutly, “I would niver let go o’ Pinkie.”

“I know you would not. What I must know is if you are strong enough to climb while you are holding onto her. Only one of us will be able to help, because there’s not room enough for more, and Pinkie will be frightened, you know.”

Chuff raised his chin. “I must try. We canna leave her there.”

“What about Mistress Maclaine?” Coulter asked, looking at Mary. “She might fit, and she’d be stronger than the lad.”

Mary froze. The icy chill she had felt before had been nothing to what she felt now, but before she could think about its cause she said, “Of course I’ll try to reach her. Here, help me down there.”

“Wait,” Duncan said. “There is not room enough for three of us to stand here on this ledge. As it is, I just kicked a chunk of it down into the crevice. Let Coulter climb back up there before you come down.”

Uncertain whether the strong aversion she felt stemmed from the knowledge that Duncan would be below her while she climbed down, or from what she faced once she got there, Mary had all she could do to master her feelings and let his men lower her to him. He eased her down until he could catch her firmly around the waist, then lowered her to stand beside him—much too close beside him.

Bracing herself with a hand against the cliff wall, and holding his arm with the other, all the while avoiding so much as a glance into the chasm, she trembled.

“Cold, lass? We’ll get her up as quickly as we can.”

Mary was cold, but she knew her chill had nothing to do with the weather.

“I’ll just fasten one end of these belts around your wrist,” he said. “That will help you hold onto it once you’ve got the child. Both walls slope inward, so work your way down feet first by bracing yourself against them. Watch your skirt now.”

Gritting her teeth, trying desperately to ignore the wave of icy fear that washed over her at the thought of going down into the crevice, Mary moved as he guided her. At the top, the opening was long and gaped two and a half to three feet from the granite face, but it narrowed quickly inside.

With Duncan’s help she managed to slide in until she could sit on the edge. But when she looked down into the dark, narrow open space below, sweat began streaming from every pore. Her hands grew so clammy that she found it hard to gain purchase on the granite. The leather belt felt slippery in her hand, too, and when her skirt caught on an outcropping of rock as she slipped farther into the black chasm, she cried out, unable to stifle her panic.

“Come out of there,” Duncan said harshly, reaching down and grabbing her wrist. Without protest, she let him haul her out in much the same rough and ready way that he had hauled Chuff to the cliff top. “What the devil is wrong with you?”

She swallowed hard. “I-I—”

“Hoots, below! D’ ye require assistance?”

Overwhelmed with relief at the sound of the familiar voice, Mary looked up and cried, “Bardie, is that you?”

“Aye, lass, it is myself,” Bardie Gillonie said, leaning over to peer down at her. From her perspective, the dwarf’s large head with its thin-lipped mouth, big bony nose, luminous dark eyes, and bushy eyebrows looked particularly ridiculous, but she felt no urge to laugh. She was too glad to see him. “What’s amiss,” he demanded, straightening his water-beaded tie-wig, “and what the deevil are ye doing down there with Black Duncan Campbell of all nefarious felons?”

She glanced uncertainly at Duncan, and seeing his quick frown, she shouted back, “You must not call him names, Bardie. He is trying to help us.”

“These chaps here say there’s a wee bairn got stuck in the rock.”

To Duncan, she said urgently, “Bardie can get her, sir. He is very strong, and he can fit into places where no normal-sized man can go.”

“I’ll wager he can, and while he makes the attempt, perhaps you can explain to me how it is that a lass intrepid enough to climb down a thirty-foot rope from a tower window—Oh, yes, I know exactly by what means you chose to leave Shian, so how is it that such a fearless lass grows cold with terror at the thought of slipping into a crevice to rescue a helpless child? You must not care as much as I thought.”

“I do care about Pinkie, very much,” Mary said, but she felt ashamed of herself, and Duncan’s words did nothing to soothe her feelings.

He helped Coulter and Bannatyne hoist her to the top, and then Bardie, with but a little help from the others, scrambled down beside him.

Duncan climbed up himself then. “Coulter, go help Gillonie,” he said. “I want to talk to Mistress Maclaine.”

“Canna ye help our Pinkie then?” Chuff demanded. “Ye said ye could help, and ye’re sending that wee little man tae do it instead forbye!”

“Hold yer whisst,” Duncan said, taking the boy’s chin in his hand and making Chuff look up at him. “You must learn patience, lad. Go watch them now, and you’ll see how they get your sister out. And,” he added in a much sterner tone, “the next time someone tells you to stay put, you stay put. Do you hear me?”

Meeting his gaze, Chuff said, “I didna promise, and Pinkie was scared.”

Mary saw Duncan’s fingers tighten, and Chuff’s eyes grew wide. Duncan said in the same stern tone. “How do you think Pinkie would have felt if, in trying to reach her, you had fallen and smashed yourself to bits on those rocks instead?”

Chuff swallowed visibly. “I didna think about how she would feel.”

“That’s why you should do as you are bid. Now, go watch how they get her out. I’ll wager she will be as glad to see you as you will be to see her.”

With a look of relief, Chuff ran to stand beside Bannatyne.

Duncan turned to Mary. “Now then, lass—”

“I am grateful for your help,” Mary said with dignity, cutting in before he could continue. “Nevertheless, you have no call to speak so to me. I know you have formed the habit of issuing orders to others, who generally obey you, and doubtless you see me just as someone new to control, but I won’t submit to your commands.”

To her surprise, he said, “What more do you think you know of my habits?”

“Why, nothing! I did not mean to imply—”

“I doubt that. Did Ian talk about me to you?”

She wished that she could say no, for she did not in the least want to tell him what his younger brother had said of him, but she could see by his expression that he already knew the answer. She said, “You know that he did.”

“I warrant his comments were not complimentary.”

“If they were not, can you blame him? His most common complaint was that you continually issued orders that he did not wish to hear.”

“If he had obeyed them, he might still be alive,” Duncan said harshly.