Free The Laird's Forbidden Lady by Ann Lethbridge Page A

bones. He wanted to turn over on his back and float as what little heat he generated from motion was leached away by the chill of the sea. With an effort he glanced over at Beau and his passenger. The lass had heart and no mistake, but it was clear she’d not last long. And the horse was snorting and blowing hard, starting to tire.
    He peered through the spray at the top of each wave, searching the shore, seeing only the faint phosphorous glow of sea breaking on rocks. There. A dark patch. He veered towards it, praying there were no watching eyes up on the cliff.
    Unlikely. It would take those on the beach too long to make the climb, and surely they’d be more interested in chasing the contraband.
    It had seemed like eons before he felt sand under his feet and heard the gentle hush of surf on sand. Not that there was much of a beach. A sliver, only revealed at low tide. But it was enough. The horse passed him, eager to be clear of the water, and pranced up onto the dry ground like a colt, while Lady Selina clung on for dear life.
    Ian dragged his weary legs through the surf, weighed down by his kilt and grabbed at the bridle. ‘All right,’ he soothed, patting the sodden neck. ‘You did it, old fellow.’
    He reached up for the girl. She fell into his arms a dead weight. Dear God, don’t say she was hit. He didn’t think the shots came anywhere close. ‘Selina. Are you injured?’
    ‘J-just c-c-cold.’ Her teeth clattered together.
    He had the answer for that, if she could hold on long enough. ‘Can you walk?’
    ‘C-c-can’t feel my legs.’
    Oh, hell, what had he been thinking? It was all right for him to swim in the ocean, he’d been brought up on it, swimming in the cold lochs in the hills when there was nowhere to bathe, but this delicate creature wasn’t used to such hardship.
    He swept her up in his arms.
    ‘No. You must be tired.’
    ‘Aye.’ He was. But he was used to battling on,no matter how exhausted. Hardship was a fact of life in the Highlands.
    He staggered up the narrow beach, clicking his tongue for the horse to follow. Rocks jutted out from the cliffs, forming a natural inlet invisible from the overhanging cliff top. From the sea at high tide, one needed a boat, but right now, the entrance to the cave was a gentle slope into the dark. A cave wrought by seawater and an ancient underground river.
    He ducked inside.
    The sound of the waves became a muffled roar—a bit like listening to a shell up against your ear.
    The fragile body in his arms vibrated. Shivers. He was feeling chilled himself, but out of the wind it wasn’t so bad.
    Beau shook himself, water drops flying. He obviously approved of the dry and followed Ian willingly.
    The incline got steeper, rockier. The horse’s hooves slipped here and there, but the animal kept close behind, trusting. God, the whole clan had trusted him to bring this off tonight. And now he was stuck here with no idea what was happening.
    If not for the girl, he’d probably be dead. And now she lay lifeless in his arms, her dark hair hanging like seaweed over his arms, her body cold and suddenly still. He should have calledthe whole thing off the moment he saw her. Got the men away. Ignored the boat.
    Either that or given himself up instead of plunging into the sea. Please God, he could get her warm and dry before she succumbed to the cold.
    The cave was black as pitch and freezing, but he knew it as well as he knew his own bedchamber in the dark. His senses told him when the passage opened into the cave proper. That and the light touch of air rushing by his cheek. He set the fragile female in his arms down on the sand. She struggled to a sitting position and he felt relief flood through him at the sound of another round of clattering teeth.
    ‘Wait there,’ he said and felt his way to the corner where he found several oilcloth-wrapped parcels.
    It wasn’t long before he had candles lit, tinder and peat laid out for a fire and blankets spread on the