Page 54 of To Win a Highlander’s Heart

Neither he nor Aria talked as they concentrated on the path before them, no wider than three of his feet placed end to end. Phoenix stepped with caution, putting one foot in front of the other as he skirted the edge of the abyss.

Hazy clouds scudded across the sky, and a dozen gulls circled overhead, either awaiting a misstep that could provide dinner for the evening, or out of sheer curiosity. Orrick preferred to think it was the latter.

The wind added another dangerous element, forcing Aria, Orrick, and their horses to lower their heads to protect their eyes from bits of dirt and grit. Orrick’s heart raced at the thought of what Lieutenant Collins might be doing to Isolde. He forced the macabre thought away to focus on a more favourable outcome. He would find her alive and well. They would marry as soon as he could find a minister or they would handfast. Orrick didn’t want another day to pass before making Isolde his wife.

Step by step they started to ascend towards the top of the cliff along the trail. Orrick breathed a genuine sigh of relief until he raised his gaze and saw Isolde rolling towards the edge of the cliff just beyond where he and Aria rode.

“Nay!” Orrick’s heart clogged his throat.

Orrick took in the scene in a single glance. He saw Lieutenant Collins toppling backwards with a crazed look in his eyes, saw Isolde rolling towards the cliff’s edge.

His gaze found Isolde’s and fixed on her. He would have closed his eyes and said a silent prayer that she was still alive, but that wouldn’t be for long if he didn’t do something, and fast.

Orrick put his heels to the horse’s flanks just as Aria before him did, and they surged forward. If they could only crest the cliff at the precise moment and block their joint fall. They would save the lieutenant, but also Isolde. If they could reach them in time.

He and Aria were so close, and yet a gap still separated them.

Lieutenant Collins’s body tipped over the edge, falling. He howled. The sound was a cry, high and keening—a mixture of rage, fury, and frustration.

Orrick’s breath stopped as Isolde’s gaze connected with his. Her eyes filled with an unfettered emotion he had never witnessed in the blue depths before . . . love.

With nothing to stop her, she fell over the edge.

Ahead of him, Aria rose up on the back of her horse, strung her bow and fired one, two, three arrows in rapid succession. The arrows hit the hem of Isolde’s gown, pinning her to the edge of the sandstone cliff. Her body jerked, then hit the cliff’s edge with painful force just as they reached the top.

Orrick was off his horse and diving for the edge on his knees as the sound of ripping fabric rent the air. Isolde’s hands were bound. He grabbed only air until finally he seized her wrists. He held on with both hands as her falling weight yanked him closer to the edge. Orrick went down on his chest and his hands locked around hers in a vice-like grip.

The muscles of his arms screamed. Pain shot through his shoulders, but Orrick held tight. Isolde was alive, and he intended to keep her that way.

Behind him, Aria reached down and gripped Orrick’s wrists, pulling both him and Isolde up as he did the same.

When they were all on the rocky ground above the cliff, Aria let go, but Orrick held tight as dizzying relief poured through him. Aria slashed the ropes at Isolde’s feet, then hands. Isolde slipped her arms around him, clinging fiercely as she shivered uncontrollably.

As the sound of the waves hitting the rocks below filled the air, Orrick held tightly until Isolde’s shivers died and she relaxed in his arms. Slowly, Orrick stepped back and looked down at her pale face. “Come with me.”

“Where?” She gazed at him numbly for a moment.

“There is something you need to see to put all this behind you.”

Isolde nodded and walked to the edge of the cliff and peered over the edge. Lieutenant Collins lay still and silent on the rocky shore some forty feet below.

“Is he dead?” she asked over the pulsing of the waves.

“That fall would kill any man.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “He’s not a man. He’s a monster.”

“Even monsters die when they fall that far. He’s gone. Soon the sea will carry his body away.”

Isolde opened her eyes and gave him a half-smile before turning towards Aria. “I recognise you from the tower when the English attacked Dunvegan.”

Aria nodded. “I was watching you then, as I had many times over the past few weeks.”

Isolde drew a sharp breath. “I knew someone was watching me. Why would you do that? Who are you?”

Orrick eased the two of them away from the cliff and towards his relative. “Allow me to introduce you to Aria MacLeod.”

“MacLeod?” Isolde frowned. “You have a female relative who is an archer and you never mentioned it?”