die. But she was driven by pure instinct. She gripped the horse’s harness and unbuckled the trace that strapped its harness to the carriage.
“The reins, Malcolm!” she shouted. “Grab hold of the reins!”
He saw one dangling by his side, but if he let go of the rail to take it, he didn’t think he could hold on.
“Hurry!” she shouted as she went to release the other trace.
Malcolm’s life depended on whether he could reach the reins. His muscles screamed in pain as he used his leg to bring the leather strap closer. Finally, it was close enough for him to reach.
“Now, Malcolm!”
With supreme force of will, he let one hand go of the carriage and gripped the rein. Once the horses were freed from the weight, they were able to climb. The carriage skated out from beneath him down the rock face just as he was being dragged up the cliff.
Stones and loose debris raked his skin, but he would not let go. The horses continued to climb higher up the brae. A sickening crash on the riverbed below filled his ears. When they were finally on level ground, he let go the reins and let the pair run on.
He lay panting on the ground, grimacing at the sharp pain firing throughout his body. But Serena—he had to find out if she was all right.
He clambered to his feet and staggered toward the edge. Below, the carriage had splintered on the rocks. “Serena!”
There was no answer. A feeling of dread drained him. Not since he witnessed the lifeless bodies of his parents and brothers had he felt so much loss. If anything happened to Serena, he’d go mad. “Serena!” he shouted at the top of his lungs.
A voice came from far below. “I’m here!”
Then he saw her, a tiny form leaning on a sapling that angled upward from the slope. So far away. “Are ye hurt?”
“No. Are you?”
The relief of seeing her brought him to his knees. But as the tension and dread wore off, the pain escalated. He took stock of his injuries. He was bleeding from abrasions all along his left side, there was a nasty goose egg developing somewhere on his grit-dusted head, and his arms were killing him. “I’ll live.”
“I love you.” The words floated up through the trees. Malcolm never thought to hear that from the mouth of any woman, let alone Miss Serena Marsh. It filled his body with warmth, and made his heart lighter than the ether. She’d saved his life. And now she’d saved his soul.
“I love ye, too.” He wished she were right there beside him, to be able to take her in his arms and show her what those words meant to him. To see her smile and read her eyes, and prove to her that her vulnerability was safe with him. Damned if the thought of it didn’t take every last bit of pain away!
But now there was the problem of how to get Serena out of the gully. He had no rope and no tools, only a battered body. There was no way of telling how far it was until the road connected with the river once more.
“Stay put,” he called down to her. “I’ll think of a way to get ye up.”
“No, Malcolm,” she responded, her voice nearly muffled over the rushing water. “I have to climb down.”
“What?”
“My father’s medicine is in the wreckage below. I have to retrieve it before the river washes it away.”
“Ye’ll do no such damn thing!” He wasn’t about to let her risk her life … again. Beyond the small figure in the blue dress the terrain was rocky, gnarled, and difficult to negotiate. Any false step would result in a death slide.
“I must!”
He held up both hands. “All right. I’ll get the medicine. Just stay where ye are.”
There was no way Malcolm could get Serena out of the gully. He would have to find a way to go in.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Earlington had spent the better part of the day shivering with cold. The stone walls gave off a bitter chill, and though his nightdress had dried, it gave him no protection against the damp, fetid air. The cot smelled of sweat and fear multiplied over the course of decades. Never had he imagined an existence so tortured.
The injury to the back of his head had stopped bleeding, but it left a thick ache in its place. Added to that, worry about Serena plagued him. What if she had been captured? It made him