Chapter Six

R uarke had just ridden out of view of MacArran Grange when he was overcome by a feeling of dread. Why had he left Heather behind? Did she not have as much right to search those records? A greater right, if her mother was somehow connected to this ghost.

"Come on, Hadrian. Take me home." He turned his mount around and spurred the big gray to a gallop. Upon reaching the stable, he tossed the reins to his groom and then strode into the house to find her.

His housekeeper was just coming out of the music room where the opera singer had performed last night. "Mrs. Pool, have you seen Miss Alwyn?"

"No, Your Grace."

His cousin, Lord Hereford, happened to be walking down the hall on his way to the stable for an early morning ride and heard the question. "Miss Alwyn's an early riser. I saw her heading down to the beach. I'm surprised she isn't grabbing every last moment of sleep she can, considering how our aunt keeps her dashing back and forth all day."

Ruarke's heart caught in his throat. "How long ago? Recently?"

His cousin nodded. "Could not have been more than five or ten minutes ago."

Which meant she had gone back as soon as he rode off from MacArran Grange.

Ruarke raked a hand through his hair. "If she returns… If either of you see her, send her to my study and have her wait there for me. She is not to leave for any reason."

"But Your Grace—"

"No, Mrs. Pool. Not even if Lady Audley screams for her. Assign a maid to attend my aunt today." He began running as fast as his legs would carry him toward the beach.

He flew down the cliff steps and raced toward the Singing Caves as soon as his boots landed on the soft sand. No one else was on the beach, but he noticed small footprints leading away from the stairs and toward the caves.

Those footprints could only belong to Heather.

Had he not warned her of the dangers?

"Miss Alwyn!" The tide was coming in and would soon flood those caves. A mist hovered over them like an ominous shroud. "Miss Alwyn! Heather!"

The wind blew off the water in a fierce swirl, and waves now pounded the rocks with too much force for his voice to carry above its roar. One of those waves knocked him off balance and soaked him as he climbed onto the rocks toward the caves.

"Miss Alwyn!"

Surely she understood the power of the sea.

"Where are you? Heather! Can you hear me?"

He was about to call again when he heard a frightened cry. "Your Grace! In here!"

Blessed saints.

She was trapped in one of those caves. His worst fears realized.

But which one? "Miss Alwyn, keep talking to me!"

More waves, each one more intense and powerful than the first, surrounded him and soaked him with their spume. He had only a minute to find her before those waves filled the caves.

Anyone who could not swim out would drown.

And no one had the strength required to swim out, not even him…not against a crushing wall of water.

He followed the sound of her voice and caught sight of her gold hair and green gown as she fought her way to the entrance. Before he reached her, another wave crashed over the rocks and pushed her back into its dark depths. "Heather!"

He called again, his heart in his throat as he was met with silence. Then he heard a cough and a hoarse sob within the dank hollows. "Over here."

She was obviously exhausted and struggling to claw her way out. Could she hold on until he reached her?

Ruarke felt his legs being pushed out from under him as another wave rushed in and just as quickly rushed out with a forceful undertow. But he held firm, and was almost beside her when another wave hit.

He surged forward and caught her about the waist. But they were now deeper in the cave, and Heather was clinging to a jutting rock for dear life. "Heather, let go of it and put your arms around my neck."

She hesitated, afraid to lose her grip and be forever swept into the cave's dark maw.

"Do it now, Heather."

The sun could not penetrate more than a few steps beyond the mouth of the cave. Even now, as closely as he held her, Ruarke could hardly make out her slender form. If she slipped away from him, he would never find her again.

"Heather, trust me."

She was sobbing and gasping for air.

He was breathing hard himself as he fought against another surging wave. "Don't be afraid."

She was a slender thing, and each wave was now drowning them as it filled the cave and then pulled out with a riptide force.

He lifted Heather higher so that the water did not completely swallow her up.

"You little fool," he whispered, inhaling a breath as the water rushed out again. "I ordered you to keep away from here."

She tried to tell him something, but he could not hear a word above the piercing hum now resounding through the cave.

This was the singing he had warned her about.

They would talk later, save the rebukes and explanations once they reached safe ground, assuming they made it out alive.

He yanked her away from the jutting rock. "Put your arms around my neck and hold your breath. This next wave will fill the cave, and this time the water will not rush out."

He kept his arms wrapped around her. She felt soft and supple against him, but he should not have been all that surprised. His body had reacted to her from the moment she stepped down from his aunt's carriage that first day.

"I'm so sorry, Your Grace. I'm so sorry."

"It's all right, Heather. I am not angry." Those were his last words before the next wave hit and held them underwater. By some miracle, he caught an ebb current and swam furiously with it so that it pushed them out of the cave and onto the treacherous rocks.

He tried to protect Heather with his big body, his back and shoulders taking a bruising as he slogged his way off the rocks with her safely in his arms. They were alive and able to breathe again, and this was all that mattered.

He ought to have been furious, for she had disobeyed him.

But she was shattered, now in tears and blaming herself.

He tried to calm her as he tumbled safely with her onto the sand and rolled them away from the rocks.

It was not a moment too soon.

Ruarke watched in horror as a monstrous wave rose out of the water and smashed against the rocks. It would have battered them with enough force to crush their bones, had they been caught.

But they were on the beach now, safe upon the warm sand as water harmlessly flooded around them and then swept back out.

In the next moment, a shrill cry filled the air, a sound as sharp as a knife, and capable of shattering eardrums. "Heather, cover your ears!"

What in blazes is that?

He had never heard such an anguished wail before, certainly nothing like it ever emanating from the Singing Caves.

It had to be the keening shriek of a raging ghost.

Ruarke wasted no time in carrying Heather to the cliff steps. But he had to set her down by the time they reached the stairs. His lungs were burning so badly, he thought they might burst.

His arms gave out, as did the rest of his body.

"We are done for if she comes after us." He set her down with a grunt and dropped onto the sand beside her, completely spent.

She sat on the bottom step and let the tears stream down her face.

"Stop crying, lass." His voice was little more than a rasp, as he needed several moments to catch his breath.

"How can I?" She took in sobbing gulps of air. "We almost died. It is all my fault."

They were soaked to the teeth, and Heather was shivering.

The pain of a thousand agonies was etched on her face as her gaze met his. "I am so sorry. I never meant—"

"I do not want to hear another sorry out of you," he said with a growl of frustration, still shaken by how close they had come to dying. "Did I not warn you to stay away? Now do you believe those Singing Caves are haunted and dangerous?"

"I always did believe. But I saw her. I saw Bella and spoke to her."

Blast the girl.

"You spoke to a ghost?" His question came out in another low growl.

Her eyes widened. Beautiful eyes of softest green. "Yes. Please, let's get away from here and I will tell you everything."

He rolled to his knees and took another moment to rise to his full height. It was a struggle, but Heather was also struggling. He looked down at her pathetic form and brushed back several strands of her hair that were now stuck to her cheeks. "You're shivering and your lips have turned blue."

She nodded and rose shakily.

He did not have a jacket to wrap around her, since he'd gone off to the church in the work clothes he had been wearing when meeting her in the grove earlier. But she was still shaking, so he put an arm around her shoulders and held her close. "I know I am sopping wet, but the heat of my body might warm you a little."

"I don't deserve your kindness."

What was he to do about her?

Kindness? He was in love with her, and his heart was aching with the knowledge he had almost lost her.

But he was also furious.

Her shoulders slumped and she lowered her head, about to cry again.

"Blast it, Heather. What is wrong now?"

"How are we to avoid tongues wagging when we walk in looking like two shipwreck victims?"

He did not know and did not care. He could walk into his home stark naked while talking gibberish and all would be overlooked because he was a duke. But Heather's reputation would be lost, he supposed. Especially with her gown clinging to her every luscious curve.

This girl had a body that could stop a man's heart…or make it speed up to the point of bursting.

She was slender and delicate, and obviously too drained from her near-death escape to make it up the stairs. They had not climbed more than five steps before she faltered.

"Heather," he grumbled, and hoisted her over his shoulder as a farmer might hoist a sack of grain. It was not in any way romantic, but his arms were numb and he would drop her if he had to carry her in his arms as though he were a gallant lover.

She ought to be grateful he had her slung over his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" She tugged lightly on his hair. "Your Grace, put me down. We'll be seen by your guests!"

"I am not putting you down," he muttered, tightening his hold on her. "Of all the stupid, thoughtless—"

"I thought you said you weren't angry."

"I lied. We were about to die, and I did not want our last words to each other to be filled with ire and resentment. But we've made it out alive. I am so furious with you right now, I want to wring your little elf neck. What were you thinking? Did I not tell you to keep away from the caves? Not five minutes later, you are running toward them."

"She came to me on the beach! I asked her questions, but we were only seated on the sand. I did not go anywhere near the caves."

"Then how did you end up in one of them? Were you magically transported?"

"Something like that." She tugged on his hair again. "Will you put me down? I am not a sack of grain to haul over your shoulder. I would rather not have you talking to my backside."

"And I would rather not have you soaking wet and almost drowned." Although he did not mind the soaking-wet part so much, since her body was exquisite. It was the fact she had almost drowned that had him seething. "Why were you at the caves?"

"Bella became angry with me, and…I did not realize ghosts had this power, but she pulled me into them."

"Pulled you in?"

"Yes, as though she had a rope attached to my soul. Then her eyes turned a horrid shade of black, as dark as obsidian or onyx."

"For pity's sake." He shifted her more securely over his shoulder as she struggled to free herself. "We are both going to fall if you do not stop wriggling, and I shall likely land atop you. I have no wish to squash you."

"Just let me go."

"So you can run back to your ghost and ask her more questions?"

"No! I've learned my lesson. I dare not go near her again. Besides, I gave you my word."

"And you expect me to trust it now? Oh, hell. Do not start crying again."

"I never meant to break my promise."

"But you did."

"I know, and I shall be eternally ashamed of it. But I learned something very important. Bella did not go into the caves alone."

"Heather, do not start—"

"No! Do not cut me off. This is too important. Her sister was with her. I think she hit Bella over the head and left her there to drown. Do we know what happened to the sister? Maybe this is why Bella haunts the Singing Caves, because no one realizes she was there with Bella and got away with murder. I think she stole her necklace, too."

"Stop talking, will you?"

"Why? Does it not all start to make sense?" She gasped as they neared the house. "What made you turn back? Weren't you on your way to the church to read the birth and death registers?"

"I had a bad feeling about you, so I rode home. Good thing I did."

"Did you see Bella? She was in the cave with us."

Lord, this girl was shooting shivers up his spine. "No, just you."

"Perhaps you scared her off."

He set Heather down and took her by the shoulders. "Do you think that apparition is afraid of me? I can assure you, it is not. Do not be fooled by the fact it appears in the form of a pretty girl. It is no longer a corporeal being. It could be anything, a creature merely using poor Bella's form to lure innocents like you into the Singing Caves. I am worried you do not seem to be nearly as afraid of it as you ought to be."

"Not afraid? Did I not just describe her shockingly onyx eyes to you?" She made a sound somewhere between a cough and a huff. "I was always afraid. But I ached to know about my mother, whether she and Bella were related. This was more important to me than my fear. There is such an emptiness in my soul, as deep and dark as an abyss. Why would my father not tell me about my mother?"

Ruarke understood the reason. Was there any doubt now? Her father was afraid this ghost would try to claim Heather, as it had tried years ago and almost succeeded in doing a few minutes ago. It was the only thing that made sense. He wanted to protect the daughter he loved.

The girl Ruarke now loved.

Blessed saints.

Was this what he was feeling? Mad, wild, fierce love?

"Your Grace, I am in imminent danger of being seen with you and having my reputation put in tatters."

"You run no risk of that." He ignored her little cry of outrage as he hauled her over his shoulder once again to carry her into the house. "I'll make certain it is put right, should your good name suffer. I've told you I will protect you."

"How? By ruining me and giving me no choice but to become your mistress?"