Surviving Scotland (19 page)

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Garrett Rothchild Cantlebury, the Fifth Duke of Ravensworth, slowed his horse, Ashe, when he spied something small and black lying next to the edge of the old well. Was it an animal? A piece of cloth? Wait, the slab covering the well had been moved. He gritted his teeth. He'd had it mortared closed after he'd seem some children showing interest in the well. And he'd been certain that would keep the slab down tight. Had they chipped away at it over time, loosening the seal little by little?

He didn't care that they believed the well was haunted by some ghost. If he ever caught them… but that wasn't likely. With the old house torn down, leaving a wide-open field, he'd be hard pressed to sneak up on them.

Garrett swung down from the saddle, left his horse ground tied, and squatted down. Pebbles skittered into the well. It was a boot, a woman's tattered boot. Crushing pebbles surrounding the opening, he picked up the boot, its broken laces caught beneath the edge of the slab. Sun warmed his face as he gazed around the old Bennett farm. He frowned. Why would someone go off and leave her boot out in the middle of his property? Had someone been using the nearby bushes for a tryst?

He stood and examined the boot more closely. It was of inferior quality, presumably worn by a servant. He turned the boot over. The leather was scuffed and the sole paper-thin. But the boot was still usable.

Garrett glanced toward the well's yawning black mouth.
No, surely not
. Sweat beaded on his upper lip. What if someone had fallen down there? It would be on his head, since he was the one ultimately responsible for the condition of his property. His farm manager was organizing the job of filling in the well in several months, but that took time. He shook his head. Too much time.

If only Garrett had ordered it filled in years ago. Years ago when… No, he wouldn't dwell on it now. Couldn't. It had taken him a long time even to be able to ride past the well without memories from the past assaulting him.

He dropped the boot, hoping with everything in him that he was wrong. Garrett leaned over the gaping hole and peered into its darkness.

"Is there anyone down there?" He held his breath.
Please don't let anyone answer. Let the owner of the shoe be far from here and safe. Let it be—

A whimper, such as an injured animal might make, floated up from the depths of the hole. Garrett scooted closer to the opening. "Hello? Is someone there?" He leaned as far into the opening as he dared, closed his eyes, and waited. His breath caught in his throat as the seconds ticked by.

"Y-yes. Help. Help me,
please
."

No!
Garrett widened his eyes, scrambling away from the well. His heart thumped and sweat formed on his face and beneath his shirt. As he paced back and forth, he ran his hand down his face, wiping away the perspiration. It was as he'd feared. A woman's voice had been his answer. But… the last time he'd had to go into that well… when another woman had been found there… Garrett hurried back toward the opening.

"Miss? Are you hurt?" Garrett clenched his fists and waited.

"I think… there is something wrong… with my, ah… a-ankle." Her voice was weak. Was she having trouble breathing? Was Garrett too late to help her?

"Miss, I need to go for help." There was an old gate from his paddock he could use to carry her on. And blankets, ropes, several grooms to help…

"Please… I don't want to… be alone. Is there a way…?"

Garrett frowned. "But I need assistance. Someone to—"

"I'm not… as badly injured as I first thought. I—" A sob rose from below. "
Please."

Poor woman. She
must be so frightened.
Garrett closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. He had not the heart to leave her. He bit back a curse and stood. "Stay still, miss. I'll fetch a rope from my saddlebag." He hurried toward Ashe, wrenched the bag open, and yanked on the end of the rope he always carried for emergencies. Garrett swallowed hard and shook his head. This was most certainly an emergency.

His hands shook as he strung out the rope. What if he couldn't rescue her? He couldn't just leave her down there to die. There must be a way for him to accomplish this task. Garrett eyed his horse as an idea formed. Would it work? Fortunately, he had a horse that was obedient to a fault.
Will Ashe stay true to
his reputation?

He tied one end of the rope through the D-rings on Ashe's saddle and hoped the girth wouldn't break or slip. He led the horse closer to the edge of the hole and gave Ashe the signal to remain still.

Then Garrett crawled to the well's opening, cupped his hand around the side of his mouth, and shouted. "I'm coming down for you. I'll try to land as near the center as I can. Please stay toward one side of the well." He waited.

"I'll try."

Relief flooded Garrett's body. The woman was at least still coherent.

He tightened his grasp on the rope and slid over the top on his stomach, feet first. Ashe staggered back a few steps when Garrett's weight hit the rope.

"Ashe.
Stand
."

Garrett walked backward down the well's wall, letting the rope out hand over hand. The rope burned his palms when he lost his grip and slid for a few seconds. His heart jumped and he sucked in air. What a catastrophe it would be if he fell and injured
himself
as well.

The farther he descended into the pit, the lower the temperature dropped, and his earlier perspiration vanished. In its place were cold chills, like icy fingers down his back. How long had the poor woman been down there? It would be a miracle if she didn't end up with an illness, if she even survived the experience.

Garrett's muscles strained as he gripped the rope in his gloved hands. His boots squeaked against the damp stone wall. Would the rope hold up under the weight of two people? He finally touched solid ground under one foot and loosened his grasp on the rope, but didn't let go.

She had to be here somewhere…
He waited a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. There, behind him, a shapeless form huddled against the wall, her breathing loud like that of a frightened deer.

"Miss? Are you in tremendous pain from your ankle?"

Garrett's eyes finished adjusting. The woman was small. Long dark tendrils of hair hung loose from her hat. Large, wide eyes glistened in the gloom, disappeared when she blinked, then reappeared. Blue, brown, green? Impossible to tell in the low light.

"Yes, sir, I'm afraid so." Her eyes glistened. Was she crying? "I thank you for rescuing me. I thought…" She glanced up toward the top of the well. "How will we get out? It's too far and I c-can't climb with my injury."

"Leave it to me. I have a plan. Can you stand?"

She shook her head. "I'm not sure."

"All right, I'm going to lean down close to you and help you up. Are you ready?"

"I think s-so."

Garrett leaned down and took her hand. Her fingers were icy. He gently pulled her toward him, gritting his teeth when she gasped from the pain. She lifted her face to him, closed her eyes briefly, and then nodded. "I c-can do it."

He shook out the rope's kinks, watching her chest rise and fall. One breath, two… the third slower and deeper. She straightened against the stone wall, balancing on one foot, holding the other foot just above the ground and leaning her palms against the wall.

Yes, she'll make it to the top.
Reassured, Garrett wound the rope around them and tied it in a slipknot. Her slight form was pressed against him, shivering, icy, damp. She gripped his arms. There wasn't enough room between them for her hands to be anywhere else.

"Now I'm going to signal my horse up above to walk on, pulling us up. The signal will be loud, so cover your ears."

He waited until both of her hands were over her ears and then gave a shrill, long whistle. His heartbeat thumped painfully against his ribs when the rope remained still. Had something happened to Ashe? What would Garrett do if that were the case? A few more agonizing seconds passed. The rope stirred. Garrett's breath blew out in a relieved whoosh.

He wrapped his arms around the woman, ducking his chin over her, and pressed her head against his chest. "Miss, pull your arms in. Place your hands on my chest." She slid her hands from his shoulders, slowly snaking her fingers between them, inch by inch until her elbows no longer stuck out.

"Good. Try to stay as close to me as possible."

She nodded. Her breathing quickened, blowing tiny puffs against Garrett's neck.

The rope jerked, yanking them around. Garrett stuck his elbow out, pushing against the stone. The poor woman would be in agony if her injured leg banged the wall. The rope spun again and Garrett kicked with his boot. He squeezed the woman tight. She yelped. But better to be crushed to his chest than scraped unmercilessly against that rough stone.

"Close your eyes, miss." Garrett shut his, too, as tiny pieces of stone rained down from where the rope slid over the well's lip. Closer to the top, the ride smoothed out. Garrett swallowed against a lump in his throat, thankful they were almost safe.

She lifted her head and opened her eyes wide. Sunlight kissed her brown hair and reflected from her eyes, dark brown. Pink cheeks flushed. Her white teeth closed on her bottom lip, full and lush. Garrett's heartbeat quickened and his mouth went dry.

Under ordinary circumstances, Garrett would not, of course, be this intimate with a stranger. However, this circumstance was far from ordinary. And he suddenly found himself quite taken with the way her soft body cradled in the comfort of his. He hoped, in her current state, she wouldn't notice his physical reaction to her closeness.

Garrett tore his gaze from the beautiful woman who clung to him and glanced up. The tops of swaying grasses were visible above the rim of the opening.
Almost there
. He let out a sigh as the horse hauled them farther up the stone wall. "Hold tight, I'm able to see the top."

Another jerk higher and suddenly Garrett's head warmed in the sun. Halfway across the clearing, Ashe tugged again, his head down. The saddle was still in place and Garrett gave a gratified prayer it stayed intact. The horse would get a long rubdown and a sweet bran mash that night.

One final jerk of the rope, and Garrett dug his elbow into the ground, leveraging him and the woman up and over the well's lip. Another whistle cued Ashe to stop. Garrett untied the rope and laid the woman gently back on the ground. But her legs still dangled too close to the pit. He gathered her tight in his arms, pulled her back farther, and again laid her on the ground. She'd felt cold against him. If only he had a blanket to wrap her in.

He lay down beside her and sucked in a breath, his heartbeat slowing to a normal rhythm. Her eyes were closed, but her breathing was shallow and quick. Her skin looked soft as rose petals after a rain. A pinkish hue colored the curve of her cheek, in an otherwise pale face. Would it feel as soft as it looked? He opened his fingers, reached forward slowly, but pulled back, clenching his fist. He could not, no, he would not allow himself that privilege.

He scooted away, putting an appropriate distance between them. "Where are you hurt?"

She pointed toward her leg, but didn't open her eyes. "My a-ankle. I'm just catching my breath. I… I'll be fine in a moment."

The rise and fall of her chest slowed. Color returned to her face and lips. Her shivering stopped.
Thank heavens!

Garrett stood and stretched and then walked toward Ashe and untied the rope from the saddle. His hands shook. How treacherous the rescue had been! How much it reminded him of a past he would rather forget.

He wrapped his arms around the horse's neck, and whispered, "What a good fellow you are, Ashe. I am in your debt." Ashe nodded his head and snorted out a deep breath. Garrett patted the horse on the rump and watched him plod away, head lowering toward the grass.

Garrett turned back toward the woman. Her brown eyes, now opened wide, blinked. Long black lashes brushed against her cheek, fanning around her eyes like petals on a daisy. What lay behind those dark eyes? What secrets did they hold? She struggled to sit up, but whimpered and lay back down, her hand tightening to a fist.

"Miss, you are in grave need of a physician. I know it will be difficult for you, but I must put you on my horse with me and ride back to my home. I will send for the local physician as soon as we are back at the house."

The woman nodded, but her eyes closed with the effort. She was still breathing but… had she lost consciousness? Guilt hit Garrett hard in the chest. He was the one ultimately responsible if tragedy befell this woman from her fall. All those years ago, someone had carelessly thrown another woman into that very well, tossing her aside as if her life were nothing more than refuse. If only someone had looked after
her
before it had gotten to that point.

He gritted his teeth. If it took Garrett until his last breath, he would take care of
this
woman and make this up to her. Somehow.