Free His Woman by Diana Cosby Page B

continued to rack his frame. So much for making it through one of the hidden doors. It would seem they were doomed to remain here this night. He could only pray that if they weren’t discovered before morning, when it came time to leave, he could physically make it.
    The scent of freshly extinguished candles singed the air as Duncan continued to tremble beside her. Isabel reached over and touched his brow. Heat greeted her touch. Panic welled inside her. He was consumed with fever. If she’d tried, she couldn’t have dreamt of such a disaster.
    Why hadn’t he told her about his injury and its severity when he’d returned to the chapel? However much she needed to find the Bible, she wouldn’t have remained at the risk of his life.
    His admission they needed to leave convinced her that his condition was grave.
    But with Frasyer asleep above them and his squire standing guard in the antechamber, how could they escape? Even if they managed to slip past the earl, how far could Duncan travel in his injured state?
    Tears burned her eyes as she struggled to overcome the sense of impending doom. Nay, she’d lost Symon, but to her last breath, she refused to lose Duncan as well.
    Mayhap she should surrender to Frasyer. Then Duncan would be safe. That wasn’t an option. In his deteriorating condition, Duncan couldn’t escape by himself.
    Neither could she allow Frasyer to find Duncan within his bedchamber. The earl wouldn’t hesitate to end Duncan’s life.
    And her father. If she were caught, proof of his innocence would never be found and delivered to Lord Monceaux.
    “Isa…”
    “Duncan?”
    His teeth had begun to chatter.
    Guilt clung to her. As much he needed to rest, before he began to ramble and expose them, she had to get him out.
    “Shhhh,” she whispered into Duncan’s ear. Isabel glanced toward where moonlight illuminated the tapestry upon the wall. Before she’d hoped one of the doors held her mother’s Bible. Now, she prayed one of them held a route from which they could escape.
    “Duncan,” she whispered in his ear. “Stay here and be quiet. I will be right back.”
    “Wh-Where are you going?”
    “To crawl over to one of the secret doors and see if I can open it.”
    “It is too risky.”
    This was so like him. Stubborn to the point of unreasonable. “And you are thinking with your wounded arm and a fever you could be doing better?”
    He wiped the sweat from his brow. “I promised to keep you safe.”
    “And you have.” She gentled her voice, aware he was persecuting himself for their situation, when in fact, this was all her fault. Why did he have to be so noble? “This once you will do it my way. After I have the door open, I will wave you over.”
    He reached over and clasped his hand over hers, his hold a pittance of his strong grip in the dungeon. “I…” He hesitated. “Be safe.”
    “I will.” Isabel withdrew her hand from his and immediately missed his touch. Even after three years, he still felt so much a part of her. A part she could never again have. Her body ached with the need to have him hold her, want her as he once did. She longed to tell him the truth. That she still loved him. A fact she never could.
    “What is wrong?” Duncan asked, tearing her from her musings.
    “Naught.” She inched to the edge of the bed. Holding her breath, Isabel rolled from beneath and then lay still.
    Above her, a cool breeze sifted into the room, spinning up fragments of dust to shimmer within the moonlight like a faerie’s trail. The occasional shout from a guard outside blended with the blustery wind and Frasyer’s occasional snore.
    After peeking over the edge of the bedding to ensure Frasyer still slept, Isabel crawled across the floor. Each placement of her hand seemed to form another drip of terrified sweat upon her brow. Each second a dark promise that Frasyer would awaken and catch her.
    At the bottom of the tapestry, she ran her hands over the cold, rough stone. A finger’s