Sleepless in Scotland by May McGoldrick

Author:May McGoldrick [McGoldrick, May]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2018-08-07T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Time slowed to a near standstill, and Phoebe floated downward. Darkness enclosed her, and an endless void yawned below. Her arms and legs were not hers to command, and they flailed ineffectually around her. But when her hand struck a stone protruding from the wall, she felt the sharp pain in her shoulder and then spun like a top as she plummeted to the bottom. A scream formed in her throat but never emerged, for an instant later she hit water at the bottom and the impact knocked the air from her lungs.

As Phoebe sank into the blackness, no sense of up or down existed. Suddenly the realization cut through to her stunned mind that she was about to drown. She fought off the paralyzing panic. The will to live took charge.

She kicked her feet, one hand clawing at what felt like a wall of stone, and then her body began to move upward. She broke through the surface into air nearly as cold as the water, but still could not draw breath.

No. No. No. You will not die.

Trying to move her hands and feet to keep herself afloat, she found she had no feeling in her left shoulder. Her arm floated uselessly, as if it had become detached from her body. Her chest was locked in a painful spasm that would admit no air. She grabbed her arm and shoulder, and a sharp pain radiated across her back. She felt a jolt of air enter her lungs, and she tried to think.

Another breath. She looked up. Stone walls stretched straight up for an ungodly distance. A well. She’d fallen into a well.

The water was very cold, and her dress was weighing her down. Another breath seeped in. She looked up again and the distance to the top seemed to stretch even farther.

She started to call for help but immediately stopped. Her hat came fluttering down the shaft.

The memory returned. Fear formed a tight knot in her stomach. Someone had pushed her. And this same someone was standing at the top now.

The hat landed on the water beside her.

She tried to move her left arm again and the sharp pain caused her to stop kicking. Her chin dipped beneath the surface. Phoebe swallowed a mouthful of foul-tasting water and she gagged. Retching and gasping for air, she scratched at the wall, slippery with moss, desperate for something to hold onto. Her fingers found a narrow lip of stone.

She looked up again once the retching subsided. Someone at Bellhorne wanted her dead.

* * *

“I’ll be going to Edinburgh myself next week,” Dr. Thornton said. “I’ll see to it that the doctor from the medical college comes back with me. Have no fear, Captain.”

Ian wished he could remain as composed as the doctor. He’d been away from Bellhorne less than a week, and yet upon his return, his mother appeared even paler and weaker. Getting a specialist here to see her was beginning to feel critical, and he told the man his concern.

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