"Hart," she gasped, trying to shake her head.
"No," Matthew shouted. "No, she is mine. Meant for me!"
Hart eased forward, trying to get close enough to snatch her away. "She does not want you, Matthew."
"You know nothing. I love her and she will be my wife. She promised. Promised when she let me put my hands on her, tempted me to all kinds of sin."
Hart's pulse fluttered, but he ignored it. Instead of lashing out, he raised a calming hand. "Think about it, Matthew. What kind of life can you provide? You set fire to her uncle's home, didn't you?"
Shock sparked in the man's eyes.
Hart nodded. "You killed a man and you'll go to jail for that. How will you provide for a wife?"
"No! It was an accident! I won't go back to jail!" "Matthew—"
"Move back!" he shouted, just as his boot slid right over the edge. Emma stiffened at the movement.
Hart lunged, trying to catch her. She was helpless against the man dragging her backward. Her heels scraped over-moss and rocks as she reached out with her bound hands.
"Hart, I'm so sorry," she whispered, the words seeming to float up as she fell.
Hart dropped the pistol and dove forward, grabbing nothing but air. He fell to the ground, felt the jolt of rocks and unforgiving ground, thought of Emma's body falling even farther, too far?
??
But her fall had been stopped. He was staring at her, looking into her eyes, her shoulders and face still visible above the edge. She wasn't lost.
He vaulted to his feet and rushed forward, kicking rocks out into the salt wind.
"Do you want her to die?" Matthew screamed. He'd dragged them both onto a narrow ledge that trailed down at a steep angle. He wrapped an arm tight around her waist and tugged her a little farther down. "Leave us!"
"I won't. Just let her go. She's cold and she's hurt. Let me take her someplace safe."
"She will be safe enough once we're married. At least her soul will be in God's hands."
"Even in Scotland they will not marry you to an unwilling woman."
"Oh, she will be willing by then."
Struck with fury, Hart jumped down and landed with a great clatter of sliding rock and grit. Emma gasped and fell backward, tugged down by Matthew's violent jerk.
"Pleased Hart ground out, "you are going to hurt her. Just release her. It's too steep here, you cannot drag her down the cliff face. Let her go. I won't follow you, I give you my word."
Matthew shouted, "I love her!" and pulled her along the narrow ledge. His body began to disappear around a curve as Emma's feet kicked futilely against stone and gravel. "Why can you not just go away? She is mine!"
Stay calm, Hart reminded himself, keeping his eye on Emma as she was pulled backward. Stay calm. If he got too close, he'd make it worse, put Emma in more danger. So instead of lunging, he crept. Instead of screaming with rage, he held his breath.
Emma's gaze locked with his. One fat tear fell, tracing a track through her dusty face. I'm sorry, she mouthed, and Hart was shaking his head just as she disappeared around the angled jag of rock that blocked his view.
He tried to move faster and stay quiet, but his foot slipped on loose sand and he crashed to one knee. Pain shot straight to his spine. He dug his nails into his palms and forced himself up to inch forward. Slowly, slowly, slowly.
"Tell him to go away," Matthew was sobbing. "He has shamed you. Do you think I don't know? Even after all that, I've offered you my name. Why can you not see me?"
"I see you, Matthew." Her voice shook in time with Hart's shattered pulse. "I see you," she repeated.
"I love you so much, Emily."
Hart moved to the very edge of the corner and eased his head around. They were stuck. Wedged into a shallow corner of broken, crumbling slag. Matthew had forced Emma into a wedge, had propped her up against the wall of stone, and stood with one hand pressed to her shoulder and the other holding something close to his thigh.