Page 123 of Kidnapped by a Rogue
He started toward the second man, who was holding Margaret from behind. “Release her!”
“Ye can’t hit me with that post without hitting her too.”
While her attacker’s attention was fixed on Finn, Margaret raised her knee, pulled a dirk from her boot, and made a wild stab behind her. She must have hit him because her attacker yelped in pain. Without hesitation, Finn slipped his chain off the broken end of the post and ran hellbent at her attacker. Before the man could react, Finn had the chain around his throat and was choking the life out of the bastard.
His strength was fading fast, but he gritted his teach and managed to hold on until the man stopped struggling and his body became a dead weight in Finn’s arms. Finn watched the limp body slide to the ground before darkness took him.
He awoke to his true love slapping him across the face.
“Put your arm over my shoulders,” Margaret ordered him.
Somehow, she dragged him through the doorway, where he collapsed again. He was shaking violently.
“I won’t make it. Ye must go,mo rùin,” he said, speaking in short gasps. “Take care of our Ella. Don’t die here with me.”
He had accepted his death hours ago—probably even before he left Helmsdale. He was so very tired. He tried to keep his eyes open so that he could watch her leave, but they drifted shut again until Maggie shook him awake.
“Go,” he told her again. “Save yourself. Do it for me.”
“I did not come all this way, Finlay Sinclair Gordon, to leave ye to die,” she said. “Now, you’re going to get up and walk up those stairs.”
“Can’t ye see ye must go without me?” he pleaded. “Why won’t ye leave me?”
“Because I need my husband, and Ella needs her father,” she said in a choked voice. “We needyou, Finn. Now get up before I get good and truly angry with you.”
“All right, princess,” he said, because she could not stay here. Every moment, she was in danger. Since she would not go without him, he had to find the strength to get to his feet and climb the stairs. Pain seared his back as he struggled to pull himself up, but he made it. He leaned against the stone wall to catch his breath before starting up the stairs.
“If only we had some whisky,” he said between clenched teeth, “I’d run up these steps.”
Margaret pulled a flask from inside her headdress, proving once again that she was the woman of his dreams.
Fortified by the liquid heat, he climbed the stairs with one arm around Margaret’s shoulders, and the other braced against the wall. His back was on fire, and yet he was so cold he could not stop shaking. They were almost to the door to the tunnel.
###
They were going to make it.
“Just a few more steps,” Margaret told Finn.
He was so heavy, and the long chain hanging from his wrists banged against her thigh with each step. But they were so close now that the torchlight from the wall sconce lit one side of the stairs. Another step up, and Margaret could see into the landing. It was empty, praise God.
C-r-e-a-k.
They flattened themselves against the wall of the stairwell that remained in shadow as the door from the hall swung open.
“Give me your dirk,” Finn whispered as he eased his arm and the chain over her head.
She did not argue. Even injured to the point of near death, Finn was better with a blade than she was. In the courtyard, she had done little more than scratch her attacker, but at least she’d had the presence of mind to hold on to the blade.
She prayed whoever was on the landing would go upstairs. If he started down, he would see them. There was no time to run, even if Finn could have. Margaret saw one large boot on the stairs and then another. Finn struck so fast with the blade that the man went down before Margaret even realized Finn had done it. Then Finn fell on top of the downed man and held his hand over the man’s mouth, stifling his dying scream.
“The two dead in the courtyard likely won’t be found till morning,” Finn gasped, as she helped him to his feet. “But we can’t leave this body here.”
Margaret did not know how Finn found the strength, but together they dragged the dead man up the last steps and through the secret door. She leaned back inside to wipe up the streak of blood leading to the secret door with her skirts. Finally, she shut the door and leaned her back against it for just a moment to recover.
They had made it out of the castle.
After his last burst of strength, however, Finn could barely stand. Holding on to each other, they began walking through the black tunnel. It had seemed long to her before, but it seemed ten times longer now.
