Page 37 of Sighs of the Highland Wind
“Which way?” she whispered.
“This way.”
Maxwell led her to a trapdoor in the floor of one of the stables, then they climbed down a ladder into complete and utter blackness.
The fact that they had a little light was the only thing stopping Kenna from screaming with terror as they proceeded along the narrow tunnel. Then she felt Maxwell’s hand closing, strong and warm, around hers, and she sighed with relief. Wherever he was, she knew she was safe.
They walked along the tunnel for what seemed like miles until they came to a wooden door. It had no lock, but when they emerged on the other side, they were confronted by a thick wall of leaves and branches. The tunnel ended in a portal cunningly concealed behind a bush, through which they extricated themselves with some difficulty.
When they looked back, Kenna was amazed to see that there was no sign of the door at all.
“And Lachlan showed you this?” she asked, amazed. “What if you had been a spy for another clan?”
“He was drunk at the time,” Maxwell answered resignedly. “But I would never have used it or disclosed its whereabouts to anyone but you.”
That was the moment when Kenna realized that she was absolutely freezing and that Kirklieth Castle was eight miles away. Both of them were dressed only in their daytime clothes, with no protection at all from the cold. It had stopped snowing earlier in the day, but the ground was still covered in a carpetof white which deadened all sound. Its eerie whiteness made the way ahead easier to follow, but it also made their footprints all too visible, but there was nothing they could do about that.
At that moment. Maxwell was almost glad that he had endured all the trials he had undergone in the last few months because he had faced situations like this many times before.
“There is a barn near here,” he told her.
Kenna nodded. “I know the one.”
She gave Maxwell the blanket, and he wrapped it around both of them while they put their arms around each other’s waists and began to trudge into the night.
After what seemed like days, they saw the little thatched building ahead of them. Maxwell gave a sigh of relief as he unlocked the door and found half a dozen sheep inside. The air was thick with their earthy smell and warm with the heat of their bodies.
“Thank God,” he breathed. “At least we will not freeze tonight, Kenna.”
Kenna picked her way over to a corner and lay down on a pile of straw, then waited for Maxwell to join her.
He closed the door of the barn and lay down beside Kenna, draping the blanket over both of them and pulling her into his arms.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “Not many people would have done those things for a servant.”
“Kenna, you are more than a servant to me,” Maxwell said in astonishment. “You are the woman who has kept me alive for the past few days. You hid me, fed me, clothed me, and even shaved me. I was glad to help you. Do you not know by now that I would do anything for you?”
“No, I did not, Maxwell,” she replied. She put up a hand to stroke his face, which was bristling with half an inch of beard again. “I know we will have to part from each other soon, but I must tell you that it has been a wonderful experience knowing you.”
“Thank you, Kenna, but will you get into trouble for running away with me?” he asked anxiously. “If so, I will tell them it is my fault. That I made you do it.”
She shook her head. “Mammy is there and will speak up for me, and Laird and Lady McDonald will be good to me, I am sure.”
They lay together in silence for a moment. Under the blanket, with their arms wrapped around each other with the body heat of the sheep keeping them warm, they were quite comfortable.
“You will have to make things right with your sister and the rest of your family, Maxwell,” Kenna said softly.
“I know, and I am happy to do so,” he told her, “but I am not sure Lindsey is even there at the moment. She usually lives at Auchnasheil with her husband.”
“I saw her at Invercree during the ceilidh,” Kenna said, smiling. “She is hugely pregnant, Maxwell. It looks as though you are going to be an uncle.”
Maxwell smiled happily. “I am glad for her. She and James have been trying to have a baby for a long time.” Then he stopped and looked deeply into her eyes. “We should go to sleep.”
“I know,” Kenna replied, before snuggling under his chin and closing her eyes. “Goodnight, Maxwell.”
“Goodnight, Kenna,” he murmured.
Strangely, holding this kind, lovely woman whom he usually found so irresistible in his arms, Maxwell did not feel aroused but content. He should have been ravenous with hunger, but he was not. He could take care of his hunger in the morning, anyway. A night holding Kenna would be an experience he would never have again.
