Enraptured (43 page)

They waited again in the darkness. Violet's nerves danced, and she laced her fingers through Coll's, clutching his hand to steady her. Everything was always much easier with Coll beside her. The thought of his not being there was enough to send cold chills through her. Not, she realized, because she would have been frightened or could not have done it without him, but simply because everything without him would be wrong.

She glanced up at Coll. Like her, he was watching the corridor, waiting for dawn, but feeling her gaze on him, Coll turned and smiled at her. Violet could see him only dimly in the light. His eyes were shadows. Just looking at him
made her heart turn over. It occurred to her that whether she married him or not, she was under his control. He already owned her heart.

The thought took her breath away, and she turned her head. An arrow of light flashed into existence, bright and pointed, spearing into the darkness of the room.

“Coll . . .” she breathed, staring.

“I see.” He tightened his hand around hers.

The ray of light moved forward. It was not the diffuse glow they had witnessed eleven days earlier, but an intense shaft of light, focused into a point. As they watched, it touched the ground at the end of the corridor. Behind the bright spear, light fanned out in a narrow triangle of a paler glow.

As if it were a living creature, the beam flowed across the floor. When it reached the wall, it inched upward, halting just below the large stone bearing the whorl symbol. It remained there, unmoving.

“Impressive.” Coll's voice was hushed, almost reverent.

“Yes. Can you imagine how that must have appeared to a primitive people? Like a miracle, a sign from the universe.”

“I know how it appeared to me.” Coll studied the finger of light. “Do you think it's buried at the bottom of that wall?”

“I'm not sure. Look, now it's moving down. Receding. I think it's that specific stone.”

“So do I, but how—I mean, the rock is part of the wall.”

“Yes, but it lies right beneath that crossbeam. The heavy stones above it are actually supported by the long rock, which in turn is supported by the vertical slabs of stone.”

“True. That stone doesn't actually bear any weight.”

As the light inched backward, Coll crossed to the rock in
question, Violet beside him. Grasping the edges of the rock, he wiggled it. Stone scraped against stone as he pulled the rock toward him. It slid out, and he set the stone carefully on the floor. He looked at Violet, the two of them barely daring to breathe. Holding up the lantern, he lifted its shield so that the light filled the hole where the rock had been. On one side was the tall, upright support column of a long stone. Below and beside the empty space were rocks twice as long as the one he had pulled out.

In the empty space behind the stone he had removed lay three leather bags. Violet let out a long, wordless breath.

“The French gold.” Coll reached in and pulled out the bags.

They were heavy. He set them on the floor side by side, and for a moment they simply looked at them. Then Violet knelt and untied one. Her fingers trembled as she pulled the bag open. Reaching in, she picked up a single coin and examined it.

“Louis d'or,” she murmured.

Coll thrust his hand inside, lifting out a palmful of gold coins and letting them sift back into the sack.

“I can hardly believe it.” Violet turned a tremulous smile on Coll. “There is your model crofters' village.”

“Aye. And your school.” He lowered his head to kiss her. “Whatever you want to do. Wherever you want to go.”

Strangely, pain pierced Violet at that thought. She turned away quickly and opened the other bags. One was as full of gold coins as the first. The third was half-full of louis d'or pieces, but the remainder was filled with precious gems. Violet wrapped her arms around Coll's neck and pressed herself against him. Emotions swept through her, and she could
do nothing but cling to him, teetering perilously on the edge of tears. His arms wrapped around her like iron bands, and he lowered his mouth to hers.

It was several minutes later before they released each other, though Coll snatched her back for one brief, hard kiss before he stood up. The light had receded into the corridor again. A moment later it was gone.

Coll carefully replaced the stone that had concealed the treasure, and picking up the lantern, they carried the sacks back to the entryway. Coll had had the foresight today to store a wooden ladder near the entrance, so it was easier to climb out. Violet went first. She stopped near the top of the ladder and Coll handed the bags up to her one by one. She set them down on the ground just outside the entrance hole, then scrambled up the last few rungs and out onto the ground. On her hands and knees, she started to rise.

Someone grabbed her around the waist, jerking her up and back against him. Violet let out a startled cry and began to struggle, but something hard and round jabbed into her temple. It was unmistakably the barrel of a pistol. She went still.

“Violet?” Coll's voice came from below, and she heard the sound of his feet rushing up the ladder.

“Coll, no!”

“Shut up!” a male voice barked in her ear. He went on, “Come on up, Coll, and join us.”

Coll's head and shoulders emerged from the opening. It was too small a hole and at too much of an angle for him to exit it in a rush. “Donald MacRae. You bloody bastard.”

Coll crawled the rest of the way out and stood up. The look in his eyes would have made an intelligent man shiver,
Violet thought, but the man holding her let out a high, excited laugh.

“Aye. It's me. And I'm going to be a rich man.”

“So it
was
you. You were in on it with Will Ross. Is that where you stayed after you left the village?” Coll took a step toward them.

“No closer!” MacRae cocked the pistol. Coll stopped, raising his hands in a peacemaking gesture. “Yes, I had to live in that miserable hovel because of you. But I wasn't ‘in on it' with that peasant. Will Ross worked for me.”

“Did he now?”

“Yes, he began to bring me things when I moved to Inverness, items he stole, and I sold them for him. But I was able to see a grander scheme. So I set him to looking for the treasure.”

Coll grinned. “You thought he would turn the treasure over to you when he stole it? You were always a stupid man, MacRae.”

“I'd be careful of calling me stupid when you're the one giving me that gold. I'd say the intelligent man is the one who lets others do his work for him. Now hand over those bags.”

Coll bent to pick up one of the bags and started forward.

“No!” MacRae screeched. “Just toss it.” When Coll swung his arm back, MacRae snapped, “Gently.”

“Aye, I'll be gentle.” Coll tossed the bag softly to the ground in front of Violet.

The gunman let go of Violet's waist and poked her in the back. “Pick it up.”

“I won't.”

“What?” MacRae's voice rose.

“Violet, no . . .” Coll tensed.

“I said, I won't.” Violet turned her head toward her captor, which drew a strangled sound from Coll and a curse from MacRae, but he did not fire.

“You will if you bloody well want to stay alive! Now pick it up.”

“Or what, you will shoot me?” Violet gazed at him coolly. “Surely you realize how nonsensical that is. If you shoot me, you will have thrown away your bargaining power over Coll. Moreover, you will have used your one bullet, which was the only advantage you had. Coll will therefore attack you, and being far taller, heavier, and stronger than you, not to mention in a rage, he will overcome you easily. If you are lucky, he won't beat you to death, only cause you a great deal of pain. Then you will be arrested for murder as well as theft.”

MacRae's face flooded with fury. “Shut up!” The pistol trembled in his hand. “Pick up the damned gold.”

“Are you deaf as well as stupid?” Violet crossed her arms over her chest. “I said no.”

“You will do as I say!” MacRae roared, gesturing wildly with the pistol.

Coll flung himself forward, pushing Violet aside as he rammed into MacRae's stomach. She flung herself to the ground. The pistol went off, the ball shooting harmlessly up into the air.

The air went out of MacRae in a whoosh as Coll slammed him into the ground. MacRae flailed his arms and legs, gasping for breath until Coll knocked him out with a blow to the point of his chin. Shoving the man aside, Coll scrambled over to Violet.

“Are you all right?” He ran his hands over her, checking for injuries. “Did he hurt you?”

Violet flung her arms around his neck. “Coll! Yes, I'm fine. It's all right. Really, I'm not hurt.”

He sat down on the ground, cradling her to him and pressing his lips to her head in a flurry of kisses. “Lord save me, Violet! You scared the devil out of me, taking him on like that. What in hell possessed you?”

“I knew if I made him angry enough, it would distract him, and you could take him by surprise. I'm not big enough to fight him, but I am very good at infuriating people.”

Coll began to laugh. “Ah, lass, that you are.” He tilted up her chin and kissed her thoroughly. “I always knew you could argue a man into the ground.”

Coll bound MacRae's hands and feet and left him at the barrow, then took Violet and the treasure home. After locking the gold away securely in the safe in the butler's pantry—Violet had the feeling Coll would dearly have liked to lock her away there, too—he went back to march MacRae into town.

Violet waited for Coll in the library. She spent most of the time pacing about the room, too surging with thoughts and emotions to sit still. When at last she heard Coll's tread in the hallway outside, she ran to the door. “Coll!”

He was walking down the hall, hands in his pockets, obviously in a deep study. He lifted his head, and his face was so sober and grim that Violet felt suddenly uncertain, even shy. “Coll. Are you all right?”

“Of course.” He gave her a faint smile that did little to strengthen his words. “MacRae is locked up.”

“Who was that man? I've never seen him.”

“Probably the last person I expected to see. He used to be Mardoun's steward, the filthy scum. Mardoun sent him packing when he found out what sort of man he was and how ill he had treated the earl's crofters. I thought him long gone from here. Everyone did. But apparently he's been hiding in the hills, biding his time and cozying up to fellows like Will Ross. They used to be on opposite sides, but when it came down to it, they found common ground in thievery.”

“You look very tired.” Violet had her speech all prepared, but looking at Coll, she thought it was not the best time to bring up the matter. “Would you like some tea? Whiskey?”

He shook his head. “Nae. I—I want to talk to you, Violet. I need to talk to you.”

His words stirred her uneasiness even more. “Coll . . .”

“You have money now. You can do what you want. Go where you want.”

“Coll, why are you saying this?” Violet's heart thudded, her stomach turning to ice. “What do you mean?”

“I want to know . . . do you plan to leave?”

“Leave here?” She gaped at him.

“Aye.” He raised his head, his face taut, shoulders braced. “Leave me.”

“No!” Violet stared at him. “No, why would you think that?” She hesitated. “Are you—do you want me to leave?”

“God, no! Are you mad?”

She relaxed at his stunned expression. “I don't know. I thought perhaps I was going mad. The last I'd heard, you wanted to marry me.”

“No.” He held up his hand. “Dinna worry. I am not asking you to marry me.”

“You're not?'

“No. But I—I want to be with you.”

“I want to be with you, too. Coll, I've been thinking . . .”

“No, I'm nae finished.” He drew in a breath. “I dinna want to . . . to bully you or browbeat you into doing something you don't want to.” He paused, then added candidly, “Though I probably would if I thought it would work.”

Violet smiled and reached out to take his hands in hers. “I am glad you realize that it won't. But you are welcome to try, if you wish.”

“You will want to finish the ruins, I suppose.”

“Yes. And the barrow.”

“And the barrow. But eventually, you will be done here. You will want to leave. And when you do, I want to go with you.”

“Really?” Violet's eyes widened in surprise, and a knot unwound in her chest. “You would not mind leaving the Highlands?”

“No. I would like to come back, from time to time. But I would like to see other places. It would be . . . freeing, I think, not to have to . . . deal with everyone.”

“You mean, not to have to solve everyone's problems.”

“Maybe.” A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “But that is not the point. The thing is, I want to be with you.”