The Frost Maiden's Kiss Read Free Page A

also believed there was an intruder. The weather, after all, was most foul and any unfortunate would seek shelter where it could be found. It made little sense that a trespasser would play music, though.
    At Rafael’s gesture, they slipped into the shadows silently, one on each side of the great corridor, and worked their way steadily toward the sound.
    The last stall was empty, a gaping hole in its back wall.
    Malcolm’s mouth went dry. The caverns.
    He entered the stall and peered down into the hole. A rough passage led down, the route hidden from view. There was only the light and the music to beckon them onward. He tested the rocks but they seemed to be stable.
    “The hidden passages beneath the keep,” Rafael murmured, his words almost soundless.
    Malcolm nodded. “They used to lead to the sea,” he said just as softly.
    Rafael considered the light and the music, his eyes narrowing.
    Malcolm pointed to himself, then down into the caverns. Rafael’s lips tightened, then he nodded as well. They both tightened their grips on their knives and squared their shoulders.
    Then Malcolm Lammergeier, Laird of Ravensmuir, descended into the abandoned tunnels beneath the castle he had returned to claim. He had not gone a dozen steps before a gust of cold wind blew from below. The golden light was extinguished and they were plunged into darkness.
    Rafael swore, even as he gripped Malcolm’s shoulder.
    Malcolm froze in place, willing his eyes to adjust, smelling the salt of the sea. He took this as a sign that the passage to the sea was not blocked the entire way. The music became louder, the tune so merry that his feet itched to dance.
    “Some festivity would be most welcome,” Rafael said, his eyes alight. “It would warm me body and soul.” He then pushed past Malcolm.
    “Wait!” Malcolm protested, fearing that he knew exactly what kind of music they heard. It was too late, though, for Rafael had plunged ahead. His silhouette had almost disappeared into the tunnel ahead.
    Malcolm could not abandon his comrade, not now. He spared but one backward glance, ensuring that the stable was secured and the horses at ease, then descended into the earth after Rafael.
    He could only hope they both returned to the stable unscathed.
    He feared, though, that it would not be so.

 
    Thursday, June 17, 1428
     
    Feast Day of Saint Botulf and Saint Joseph of Arimathea.
     
    * * *
     
    Chapter One
     
    South, south, ever south.
    Blackleith had been good, but Kinfairlie would be better. The more distance Catriona could put between herself and her past, the better. Inverness grew more distant by the moment and she would have it no other way.
    She would return there only when her child was safe.
    Her decision to ask the aid of the Lady of Blackleith had proven to be more right than Catriona could have known. With Lady Vivienne having family near the borders, they would nigh be in England when Catriona’s child was born.
    Surely she would find a haven there for the babe. Her grip tightened involuntarily on her lady’s daughter and that infant awakened, as if something were amiss. There was naught amiss, save what had been done nine months before. Catriona refused to think any more of giving away her child, for it must be so, and bent to soothe little Euphemia.
    Perhaps there would be guests from England at Kinfairlie. Lady Vivienne had said her older sister lived in Wales. She had also said that her uncle lived in Sicily. Catriona dared to dream that her child could be accepted into another household, one far from harm’s way.
    Indeed, as she accompanied the Laird of Blackleith, his wife and children, southward in safety and comparative comfort, Catriona dared to believe that Fortune finally smiled upon her. Not only had the lady welcomed Catriona into the hall at the Yule, saving her from the brutal cold of the night, but she had given Catriona a place in her household. Even though the lady Vivienne’s gaze often dropped to Catriona’s