He kneaded the scar. "Your work... I'd never thought of it that way."

"Aye, I've been busy inflicting pain. At least the wounds I gave you healed."

"Whose wounds have not healed?"

Fayth shrugged. She'd said too much, more than she'd meant to. She'd been doing better, trying to rein in her impulsive nature-thinking before acting and stopping thoughtless words before they fell from her tongue. But somehow, when she was with him, she found herself saying things she never meant to give voice to.

"We've all done things we regret, Fayth. You must forgive yourself."

She looked up at him hopefully. "Have you? Done things you regret?"

"Aye. I have."

She leaned her elbows on the wall, at ease with him as she'd been with no one else, ever. Even Jack. She frowned at the thought, remembering Wesley's words. You have no idea what Jack wanted. Jack was never any more to you than a way out. Had she used Jack, as Ridley used her? A tool? She'd never exchanged as many words with Jack in all the years she'd known him as she'd already done with Alex. Jack never kissed me until I could not breathe. She trembled at the thought and quickly pushed it away. What did she know about Jack? She searched her mind, couldn't even recall if he had siblings, if he could read or write... who his friends were, besides Wesley.

She sensed Alex watched her. She asked, "Have you heard from Carlisle?"

"Not yet."

"Is that what you're waiting for?"

"Ah... aye."

"May I give you some advice?"

He raised a brow curiously and nodded.

"I know how Ridley's mind works. And though I can't antic.i.p.ate exactly what he might do, I can give you some possibilities." She leaned against the parapet in the same manner he did, facing him. "He might tell Carlisle to agree but it will be a trap."

Alex folded his hands behind his back. "Why are you offering me advice?"

She straightened and strode away, toward the ladder leading into the castle. "Why do you think? To save my own skin. I'm the only leverage you have. No reason to give me up for nothing."

The air inside the keep stifled after the fresh breeze on the roof. The idea of returning to her room to sew or wander about left her deflated.

"If you feel strong enough, I could show you the cellars."

Fayth couldn't imagine what there was to see in the cellars, but anything was better than her room, so she took the arm he offered.

As he led her down several flights of stairs, he said, "I know you're not as thoughtless and self-serving as you'd have me believe."

"Do you?" Fayth was glad for the gloom, it hid her furious blush.

On the ground floor, he led her through the hall to the kitchens, where Wynda and her daughters watched them with raised brows, but made no comment, then on to the larder. He removed a candelabra from its wall sconce and handed it to her. He pushed aside crates and casks, revealing a square of wood cut into the floorboards. Slipping his fingers in the cracks, he pulled upward. The door creaked on leather hinges, releasing a damp, molding smell.

Fayth wrinkled her nose, but handed him the candelabra when he reached for it.

"I'll go first," he said, and disappeared into the hole.

Fayth stepped gingerly to the opening. She'd never been afraid of heights, but in her current state, she found the distance to the shining candelabra daunting. Alex held the candelabra higher, illuminating his face.

"Come on," he encouraged. "I'll catch you if you fall."

Heart racing unnaturally, Fayth lowered herself into the hole. Her arms and legs trembled as she climbed down the ladder. Halfway down, Alex grasped her hips, then her waist, anchoring her the rest of the way. His grip loosened when she was on solid ground, but remained on her hips as she turned.

The candelabra rested on the ground at their feet, leaving his face in shadows. Confronted with his overwhelming presence, surrounding her, supporting her, the myriad of reasons why wanting him was so wrong fled. She raised her chin, trying to glean something from his expression. He wanted her, too. She knew it. Could feel it in the flexing of his fingers, as if he fought the same urges. This little excursion, alone, in the dark, was so very dangerous.

The war continued raging in her heart. She'd vowed to be more thoughtful, to not act recklessly. And here she was, exploring the bowels of Gealach with the one man she could not resist. She was a reckless fool. But none of that seemed to matter when her heart pounded and her skin tingled, when all she wanted was for him to kiss her again. She longed for these feelings she didn't understand, the pa.s.sion and excitement she hadn't known existed until Alex. She wanted to gorge herself on it, as she sometimes did on sweetmeats, until she was sated. And why not? Soon enough she would have none of those things, no matter what her fate.

His fingers slid away as he reached for the candelabra. When he straightened, he held out his hand. Wordlessly, she placed her hand in his and followed him into the darkness.

Fayth soon discovered that the trapdoor led to more than a simple cellar, or even a dungeon. There was a place to store food and keep it cool. There were also heavily barred cells for holding prisoners, all empty now. And as they followed the wending corridors cut into the rock that was the foundation of Gealach, they encountered more doors, all locked and barred, leading to more cells and rooms. And more corridors and doors.

He stopped at one that was barred and heaved up the slab of wood. He led her inside, holding the candelabra high. Fayth stopped short and gasped. It was a treasure room, unlike anything she'd ever seen. She stepped forward slowly, gazing around the room in wonder.

"Is this all yours?" she asked, lowering herself into an elaborately carved chair surrounded by bags of gold and silver coins, suits of armor, portraits in golden frames, wooden and metal caskets probably containing more valuables. Spying a loose coin at her feet, Fayth picked it up, inspecting it in the palm of her hand. It was a Spanish ducat.

He shrugged, smiling, and set the candelabra on a stack of crates. "I suppose..."

Fayth's eyes widened and she said in a rushed breath, "Is it Prince Shanahan's treasure? That he brought for his fair maiden?"

Alex laughed, hands folded behind his back. "I doubt it. The dates on the coins are from earlier this century."

"Then what...?"

"I dinna ken, really. Pirates, I imagine. I only discovered the door in the larder a few months ago, else I would have used this long ago to ransom Patrick from your brother."

Fayth said nothing, head swiveling, trying to take in everything she could make out in the candlelight.

"No one had lived here in decades... so I suppose pirates were using it as a hiding place. But they haven't for a very long time, of that I'm sure. When I found this room, everything was covered in years-perhaps decades-of dust, still is, actually, as I haven't been through all of it. There's trunks of clothes down here, too. That's where your gown came from. If you don't like it, feel free to pick out another." He gestured to several trunks along the wall.

Fayth didn't move. The gown was adequate and there were several more in her room anyway. "So this is pirate treasure?"

"Aye."

"Aren't you afraid they'll come back for it?"

He shrugged. "Not really. Who knows? They might have already come for it and gotten lost in the tunnels." He turned back toward the door, a brow arched. "These tunnels go on for miles it seems, branching off in all directions. I've yet to explore them all." He turned back to her. "There's a story that claims there's a magical spring down here somewhere."

Fayth shook her head, stunned. "If either Ridley or Carlisle knew about this..." There would be no pretense of marriage. Ridley would descend in force and clean the place out.

"You won't tell them." It wasn't a question.

She looked at him sharply. "How can you know that? I'm your prisoner, the enemy. What else would you expect me to do? If I can use this information to somehow buy my freedom, why shouldn't I?"

"Because you hate Ridley and would do nothing to further his cause." His voice echoed in the cavernous room. "Besides, you've told me too much. You trust me... and I trust you. I think this proves it."

Her hands gripped the carved chair arms as she stared up at him. The darkness around their warm circle of candlelight was complete. Water dripped in the distance. He should not trust her. He should never put his trust in her. She would do anything to escape and yet she couldn't stand that he gave her this-something she could use to hurt him. "What do you think I was doing at Annancreag the night I gave you that scar? I was furthering Ridley's cause."