His Conquest. Diana Cosby

was in order, he exited the stable into the downpour.

      “All clear,” the knight called once outside.

      From far away, Lord Tearlach ordered him to help search the dungeon again.

      Other guards’ voices echoed in the pounding rain as they reported in from around the castle.

      Seathan exhaled. They were safe—for now.

      “That was too close,” Linet whispered.

      Her soft breath upon his face assured him her lips were but a whisper from his own. Awareness burned through him, and he hardened. The situation would be funny if it were not so serious. Beaten and barely clinging to consciousness, his body seemed not to care.

      He swallowed hard, trying to ignore that if he but leaned forward, he could again taste her, the alluring essence of woman, and for a moment forget the pain washing through him.

      “We must make it into the tunnel before the guard returns,” he gritted out.

      “We will.” The conviction within her words inspired his own. She pressed her hand to his chest.

      He stilled, too aware of her, dangerously so. “What is it?” he asked, not needing his thoughts clouded by desire.

      “Nothing.”

      But he heard the tremble of her words, her desire to say more, and damn her, her concern. He wanted no woman worrying about him. Let her care for a man who wanted a woman in his life for something more than a night’s pleasure. He’d learned well of a woman’s deceptive ways, a lesson Iuliana, his former lover, had impressed upon his mind with devastating clarity.

      Seathan caught the noblewoman’s hand and shoved to his feet. The stall blurred around him. He braced his feet and sucked in a deep breath.

      “Lord Grey?”

      “Seathan,” he hissed out.

      Seathan? Linet stilled, surprised at his offer of familiarity. As if she would ever understand him.

      He glanced past her. The rain was beginning to slow. “Move.” He took a step forward, then another.

      “No. It is too far. We must return to the tunnel before you pass out.”

      “We cannot go back. Too dangerous.”

      The stubborn man. “As if your falling on your face in the middle of the stables is safe?”

      Obsidian eyes bore into hers. “I am well enough to travel.”

      Far from it, but she remained silent. They would need all of the Scot’s arrogance to keep him moving.

      Torches illuminated the upper bailey, an open expanse where Fulke and his men trained during the day.

      She pointed toward the stone tower farthest away. “The next tunnel is through a door inside the arsenal tower.” He nodded as they continued along the path.

      They stole through the shadows, keeping the curtain wall to their backs, the fresh scent of spring rain filling her every breath. Both were soaked, but at least the rain would erase their tracks.

      She shot a worried glance at the Scot, who was visibly struggling. Let him make it!

      “Lord Tearlach,” a guard called from the wall walk above.

      With a muttered curse, Lord Grey flattened himself near her against the curtain wall, his chest heaving.

      Hidden within the deep shadows, Linet peered out.

      In the distance, her brother came into view, then halted.

      She held her breath. Had Fulke seen them?

      Long seconds trod past, then he turned and headed toward a nearby guard, his stride lengthened by his too familiar fury. The heavy rain fractured his words. “…seeher, tell me!” Fulke demanded.

      “Yes, my lord,” the guard replied.

      Fear tore through her. Had Lord Grey heard her brother’s reference to her? Terrified, she glanced over. His eyes were shut as if he was focused on fighting back the pain. Linet glanced toward Fulke.

      Her brother whirled and stalked toward the keep.

      “Go,” Seathan ordered in a soft command.

      She shot him a quick glance, shaken to find him watching her with unsettling interest. No time remained to wonder the reason. She nodded, thankful when moments later they entered the arsenal tower, then slipped into the tunnel and closed the door.

      “We have no candle,” he stated.

      “The tunnel is short and straight,” she assured him. “I know it as if the back of my hand.” At his light touch indicating she should lead, she headed into the blackened passage.

      Shrouded in darkness and embraced by his male scent, she found the setting strangely intimate, despite the danger. Unsettled by her thoughts, by his muscled body straining at her side, she focused on her goal.

      Silence punctuated the darkness as they traveled. In the distance, Seathan caught the growing sound of rain.

      “We are almost there,” she said.

      He heard her worry, doubts that he could reach the safety of the forest, concerns that tormented him as well. But he’d be damned if he’d give up.

      Clenching his teeth, he lengthened his stride.

      Through the opening ahead, hints of purple touched the sky. “Sunrise,” he hissed as if it were a curse.

      She looked at him, her eyes laden with worry as well as hope. “They will not expect us to depart the castle through this tunnel.”

      True, but it did not remove the danger of their being seen. At the tunnel’s rim, in the pale light, Seathan surveyed the steep slope broken by boulders and shrubs. He released her.

      She glanced at her freed hand, then toward him. “You trust me now?”

      “Nay, we are out of Breac Castle.” He ignored her flash of irritation and started down the steep slope. Loose rock had him catching a nearby bush; his body screamed as he jerked to a stop. He held tight.

      Behind him, Linet made her way down with caution.

      Each step led them closer to safety, but with the purple hues growing lighter in the sky, before long the sun would break the horizon. Even with the shield of rain, if a guard looked down, they would be seen.

      He gritted his teeth, swore, but step by step, descended the damnable rocks. At the bottom, sweat covered his body, and his mind swirled with dizziness. Dragging in a deep breath, he steadied himself.

      A gentle hand caught his arm. “Seathan?”

      He ignored her and glanced up. Dawn sifted across the sky, its exposing light spilling upon the forest around them. “Move.” He stumbled forward.

      She caught him, fighting to steady him. “Lean against me.”

      He hesitated.

      “Your pride will not save your life!”

      Damning his weakness, Seathan leaned against Linet as they continued. His life and possibly his brothers’ lay in the hands of this slip of a woman. A woman who held secrets. A woman who called Tearlach her lord.

      A woman he could never trust.

      Chapter 3

      With care, Linet walked across the leaf-and-needle-strewn ground scattered with patches of snow. The rich fragrance of earth and spring offered a soothing mix but did little to ease her worry. Since they’d entered the forest, Lord Grey was leaning more of his weight against her, and his arm around her shoulders was losing its grip.

      He started to slump forward.

      “Hang on to me!”

      Ire flashed