CHAPTER EIGHTThe blow to Celina’s head ached more than she was prepared to admit to Rupert, but she managed to row in a matching rhythm with him as they crossed the loch.
She looked back at the tower receding gradually as they slid across the dark water.
The sun had gone and clouds were massing.
They would be lucky to reach Castle Fitzalan before rain fell.
The satchel lay in the bottom of the boat between their feet.
Despite her pain, she found herself visualising the lovely golden cup they had found.
It really was a treasure.
How much would the MacLeans desire the chalice once they knew exactly what it was and what it could be worth?
Celina knew that Rupert himself did not care what the chalice was worth as it was its sheer beauty and what it represented that appealed to him.
Th
