Page 2 of Claimed By a Savage Scot
A small shrine to the side held several burning candles. Sister Mairi took one of them as well as an unlit half candle.
“Ye’ll need it. ’Tis pitch black in the tunnel, lass. I ken how scared ye are of the dark,” she said, gesturing for Catriona to open the vault door.
The vast, echoing vault was the final resting place of twelve former abbesses, whose stone coffins lay on plinths in neat rows that stretched away into resolute darkness. The flickering light provided by Mairi’s single candle barely touched it.
Catriona’s eyes were immediately drawn to a faint matching glow coming from the other side of the vault. She drew in a sharpbreath of fear. Someone as yet unseen was standing over by the opposite wall, which was crammed with memorial plaques for the dead. “Is that one of Sinclair’s men?” she whispered, her feet slowing.
Mairi jerked her forward. “Nay, that’s the Maither Superior waitin’ fer us at the tunnel entrance,” she informed her, speeding towards the light. “Come along.”
Surprised yet also relieved by the knowledge, Catriona hurried after her.
The Abbess was indeed waiting for them. “They’ve set the byre afire,” she told Sister Mairi with supernatural calm.
“May they burn in hell,” Mairi cursed under her breath. Catriona watched as the Abbess produced a large iron key from inside her habit and press it into Mairi’s hand.
“Ye ken what tae dae, Mairi,” the Abbess said, nodding to the old nun, who wordlessly pressed a carved stone rose on one of the plaques. It popped open to reveal a hidden keyhole. Mairi slid the key into the lock, turning it swiftly and tugging the edge of the plaque.
It opened like a door onto a hole in the wall, and mind-numbing blackness beyond. One peek inside struck terror in Catriona’s heart.
The women started as loud male shouts, crashing doors, and thundering footfalls echoed from the upper floors.
“They’re gettin’ too close. Go, Catriona, while ye still can!” the Abbess urged her, shoving her towards the tunnel entrance.
Befuddled by mounting panic, Catriona hurriedly murmured a few inadequate words of gratitude to them both before climbing awkwardly into the tunnel. The musty air made her sneeze, and the gritty floor felt rough against the thin soles of her house slippers.
“Good luck, lass, I’ll miss ye. God bless ye and keep ye safe,” Mairi said, her voice cracking as she passed the lit half candle through the gap to Catriona.
“Thank ye.” Catriona took it gratefully, shielding the fragile flame with her cupped hand. It would be a blessed relief to have the small light with her while navigating the tunnel’s stultifying darkness.
Without it, despite the lure of her brother’s presence, she feared she might go mad before reaching the end.
“I’ll write as soon as I can,” she promised, hearing her voice break, feeling tears pressing at the back of her eyes.
“Dinnae be afraid, Catriona, dear,” the Mother Superior told her, anxiety edging her soft tone. “Hurry along now. We’ll pray fer ye, and God will protect ye. All will be well, ye’ll see.”
The little door began closing, shutting out the light. Panic leapt in Catriona’s breast, her heart thumping as the Abbess added, “Remember, just follow the tunnel where it leads ye for a short while. A man will be there waitin’ fer ye at the end. He’ll protect ye and escort ye tae safety.”
The door shut completely. In the circle of weak, flickering light from the candle, Catriona shivered at the sound of the stone plaque swinging closed, sealing her in.
Think of Duncan,she told herself, pushing down her fear as best she could. Finally, with a final steadying breath, she set off hesitantly into the darkness.
CHAPTER TWO
Trailing one hand along the rough stone wall to steady her shaking limbs, the other holding the candle aloft, Catriona made her way slowly along the tunnel. Under her breath, she murmured a heartfelt prayer that her little light would not go out.
The unnerving sounds of Sinclair’s men methodically scouring the building for her seemed to intensify, each resounding thud or crash or bellowed command making her heart contract. Imagining seeing Duncan kept her going.
She was making good progress when she stumbled over a large stone. Though she managed to stay upright, in the upset, the candle slipped from her fingers.
The precious little flame winked out, plunging her into utter darkness. She froze, her breath catching, blood pounding in her ears. She bit down hard on her bottom lip to suppress the panic threatening to burst out of her, knowing that if she started screaming she would not stop and Sinclair’s men would find her.
“Keep calm, Cat,” she whispered shakily to herself. Reaching out a hand, she breathed a small sigh of relief when it encountered the reassuring solidity of the cold stone wall. “Ye can dae this. Ye’re nearly there. Think of Duncan and Elaina and home.”
It could have been five minutes or five years before the surrounding darkness began to lighten slightly. Catriona could not tell because she had lost all sense of time. All she knew was that there finally was enough blessed light for her to make out an opening up ahead.
I’ve done it, I’ve reached the end of the tunnel!
She sent a silent prayer of thanks heavenward and quickened her pace, almost breathless with excitement to think that Duncan himself could be just a few feet away, waiting to take her home at last.
