Page 44 of To Claim His Highland Bride

He stepped farther outside the cave, into the shallow water, and searched for a shell with two connecting halves. Nothing appeared on the dry land. Pressing his lips together, he searched the crystal-clear water at his feet, studying the rocks where molluscs could attach themselves. After serval moments he finally found what he was looking for. About five steps from the entrance of the cave was an empty mussel shell. Without hesitation, he waded more deeply into the water to retrieve the purple-blue shell.

Relying on folklore to help him at a time of need was not something he’d ever done before, but he would pray for divine intervention from a God who never seemed to answers his prayers; to Cliodna, the goddess of the sea; or any other deity who might help free Rowena from a terrible fate.

Marcus continued searching for a length of seaweed, to no avail. Only yellow-gold lichen grew around the edge of the cave. Frustrated, he moved back to dry land, and, hoping the goddess Cliodna would understand his predicament, he instead reached for the edge of his shirt and ripped off a thin length.

He closed his eyes, and holding the shell to his lips, whispered his wish into the two halves before closing it and tying it with the linen from his shirt. His gaze dropped to the water lapping at his feet. He watched, waiting for a larger surge than the others. As if in answer to his unspoken thoughts, a wave washed up over the top of his boots, bringing a momentary smile to his lips.

He counted each wave following until the ninth wave touched the rock. He had never asked for much in this life. Not in his own clan, not of the MacLeods, and perhaps not even of himself. The old Marcus was gone. A new one had been reborn in the darkness of the cave. From here on out, he would ask for love and warmth and joy from this world. And he intended to give back as much or more as he took.

Marcus straightened as a newfound strength seeped inside him. “I beg you, Cliodna, to answer my plea.” He tossed the shell into the retreating wave. He waited as the roar of his voice echoed around him until there was only silence.

They only had three, perhaps four more hours to free Rowena. And release the woman he loved from the tunnel he would, even if he had to blast her out at the last moment and bring the rest of the cave down upon them. At least, using the powder meant he could hold her in his arms one last time as they drew their last breaths together.

*

Rowena stood rooted in place at the realisation that the men on the other side of her could not move the boulders out of the way. Her knees went weak. Only sheer determination kept her from collapsing into a useless heap upon the cave’s rock floor. Nay, it wasn’t determination. It was grit, which she had in spades. All her life she’d had only herself to rely on.

For a golden moment in time, she’d had Marcus. She still did, but he was on the other side of the wall of rocks. If he could not move the boulders, it was up to her to find a way to free herself before she drowned. Her gaze dropped to the lantern in her hands and an idea occurred to her.

Once, when she’d been trapped between the walls of the castle in Dunvegan after the door Gwendolyn had told her about had closed on her and she’d lost her bearings, Rowena had found her way out of the maze using the flame from the brace of candles she’d taken with her. The flame had flickered when she’d discovered a source of air. Could she use the candle in the lantern to do the same thing? Could there possibly be another way into and out of the cave that didn’t involve the passage now blocked by boulders?

She set the lantern down and bent to carefully withdraw the precious source of light. The candle flame was steady as she held it in her hands. Gathering her courage, she stood tall and moved back down to where she’d discovered the treasure. She hadn’t noticed anything but the treasure the last time she was in that part of the cave. Hoping and praying there was something more, Rowena moved silently down the tunnel, her gaze trained on the flame.

Light slipped across the basalt walls and puddled on the shadowy floor as she continued past the treasure. The only sounds in the cave were the click of her boots on the rock and her own breathing. Once she’d passed the point where Jacob Thorne had left his treasure, Rowena wondered if any other human had ever walked the path she did now.

The thought had barely materialised when Rowena stopped in the middle of the tunnel. Her gaze was fixed on the candle in her hands as the flame jumped before dancing towards the right. The flickering light meant there was a breeze coming from that direction. She turned and moved closer, casting the shadows away until she stood before yet another smaller opening in the rock near the floor.

A shiver ran down her spine at the sight of water lapping at the edges. Another opening, one with air, meant another way to possibly escape. The only way to know for certain was to dive in. But Rowena wasn’t quite ready for that yet. There were multiple things to consider. Could she traverse the dark, water-filled tunnel and make it back to the surface of the sea before she could no longer hold her breath? Or did the air mean there were places where she could draw a breath before continuing? Were things so hopeless on the other end of the blocked tunnel that it was time to try something dangerous?

She set the candle down and lay down at the edge of the opening, trying to see into the blackness beyond the candle’s illumination. If only she could have a sign that all might not end in disaster if she left the cave this way . . . Marcus might never recover if she died trying to swim her way to freedom.

Just then a dark object peeked out from the water’s surface. A dark speckled head with two beady eyes stared straight at her. With a shriek, Rowena lurched back, scrambling to her feet, nearly knocking the candle over in the process. Her heart pounding in her ears, she grabbed the candle, desperate to maintain her source of light.

From a safer distance, she studied the head that had emerged from the water. She couldn’t quite believe her eyes when she recognised it as a dark-skinned seal. Forcing her breathing into a normal pattern, she stepped closer and held out her hand to the sea creature. “How did you get in here?” If the seal had made it through whatever passageway lay ahead, could she also?

The seal floated towards her and pressed its nose against the tips of her fingers, then nudged her hand until it rested on its head. Not knowing what else to do, Rowena patted the creature lightly. “Are you trying to tell me something? That I can make it out of this cave with your help just like your kind helped me when I was in Loch Dunvegan?”

The seal barked, the sound echoing all around her. Hope flared inside her chest. Could she put her trust in the sea creature to guide her to safety in the darkness of the underwater tunnel? This was not a decision she could make alone, or at least make until she revealed to Marcus her true feelings.

Rowena looked into the animal’s dark eyes, framed in long lashes, and could see no malice, only a desire to help. Or was she reading the emotions she longed to see instead of what was truly there? With a deep sigh, Rowena patted the seal’s head once more before drawing her hand back. “Will you wait for me while I go back to tell Marcus of this new plan?”

The seal barked. Would Marcus think she was mad to put her faith in the animals her mother feared? Rowena’s gaze dropped to the candle in her hands. The wax had burned lower, perhaps even more than it should have since catching the flow of air in this portion of the cave.

With a final look at the seal, Rowena hurried back to Marcus. They had to decide what to do before it was too late.

Chapter Nineteen

Eckland MacFarlane stood at the railing of The Cliodna as the late afternoon sun was starting to head towards the horizon. He brought his spyglass up to see who was returning to the ship from the cave. He’d manoeuvred The Cliodna as close to the cave as he dared in order to make transferring the treasure as easy as possible. But the boat approaching him contained no treasure, and only one man, the boatswain known as Mack. The dark set of the young man’s features told Eck that something was wrong.

Eck waited none too patiently for Mack to return to the ship and climb the ladder. The young man had barely put feet to deck when Eck greeted him. “What’s wrong?”

“We found the captain and his wife after the water receded from the cave, but nae before tremors trapped the missus behind a wall of rock.”

Eck’s muscles tensed. “Is there any hope of dislodging the rocks?”

Grim-faced, Mack pursed his lips and a line formed between his brows. “It doesn’t look good. I’d say we only have about four more hours tae mount a rescue before the offshoot of the cave she’s in becomes flooded again.”

At the arrival of one of their own, the other men aboard started to gather around.