Chapter 14
"Oh, heavens," Agatha gasped and pressed a hand to her chest after the sharp knock on the door.
Elsea knew that knock. "Enter," she called.
Brodie opened the door, looking like a dissolute pirate rogue.
His wet hair hung loose about his shoulders.
His wrinkled shirt gaped half open, displaying an intriguing amount of chest muscle.
He had hastily pleated his plaid, and left the upper sash hanging from his belt.
Even more enthralling, his wild obsidian eyes locked on her more intensely than usual.
A half-glare, she would say. Was he still irate with her?
She could not believe how stubborn he was, refusing to believe anything she said.
"Goodness, Brodie, you're a sight to behold." Agatha skimmed a critical gaze over him. "And you smell like the sea."
He darted an irritable glance at his mother.
"M'laird?" Elsea curtsied, pretending all was well.
"Ladies." He inclined his head, then brought something from behind his back, dangling it in front of her.
The dirk she'd lost in the sea! Elsea gasped. 'Twas still in the sheath and attached to her belt. "Oh, heavens," Elsea said, grasping the soggy leather belt. "How did you find it?"
"One of the selkies retrieved it from the ocean floor."
Agatha crossed herself and hastened from the chamber, Muriel following.
"Why did she do that?" Elsea whispered, frowning after his mother.
"She thinks selkies are evil," he muttered.
"All selkies? Including you?"
He shrugged and closed the door. "Probably. I visited the selkies this morn, and they send their gratitude for freeing the females."
Warmth filled her. "They are most welcome. I'm glad I could help."
"You can meet them if you wish. I'm going to take Finnian out on the galley so he can keep an eye on them in the keek stane."
"What's a keek stane?"
"A scrying stone that belonged to the witch. She used it to spy on Torr, Gavin, and me. Torr and Cat took it from her to reduce her powers. Now, Finnian uses it for good."
"Oh, I see." She had no idea what sort of magical powers Finnian possessed, but she thought him a benevolent soul.
Brodie paced toward the window, then back. "Though it pains me to admit it, I'm thinking you were right about Margaret. She is likely Wilona MacRae."
Finally, he believed one thing she'd said. She was speechless for a moment. "What caused you to realize this?"
"I returned to the cave this morn, and she wasn't there. She was nowhere to be found on Ròncreag, but her clothes remain in the cave. If she'd left on a galley, she would've worn the clothes. As well, the selkies told me their sealskins and swords were blown away in the wind during the raid."
"Swords... blown away?" Elsea tried to visualize such a thing. "The wind was nay that strong on the island."
He shook his head. "The witch had to be there, performing her tricks."
Remembering a similar detail, Elsea frowned. "When I was in the cave and you had gone outside, I pulled one of my knives on her because she was trying to bash in my head with a rock."
"Why did you not tell me this?" he demanded.
"We were discussing other things, and I've only just now thought of it. Anyway, an invisible force grabbed my sgian dubh, yanked it from my hand, and flung it away."
"The damnable harridan," he seethed.
"And then, I threw a rock at her, but it veered off course and hit the firepit. She kept vanishing and reappearing and muttering strange phrases."
Brodie shook his head, his dark glare shifting about the chamber.
"Well, she's obviously helping the blackguard earl to abduct the selkies.
She stole the females' sealskins so they couldn't shift, then she used her twisted powers to tie them up.
She disarmed the males and bound most of them as well. "
"Saints. What's in it for her?"
"Money, most likely."
The witch and Talnaroch had known each other a long time, but Elsea didn't want to bring that up now and enrage Brodie again over her betrayal.
"Well, I thank you for bringing back my dirk. It means a lot." She unsheathed the dagger and laid it on the table to dry. She would have to clean off the salt residue.
"I'm glad they found it."
What had Brodie done with the dirk she'd given him as a betrothal gift? Had he thrown it away or sold it?
"The weather is better today," he said. "If you're up to it, I'd like to set sail along the coast and look for the knave's castle."
"Aye. My head does nay pain me as much."
"The men are preparing the galleys." He moved toward the door. "We'll leave after the midday meal."
***
brODIE WAS GLAD TO see that Finnian did not need any assistance descending the cliff steps toward the shore using his carved wooden staff. The man was agile for his age.
"Do you think the witch will attack as a sea eagle again?" Elsea asked, standing beside him.
"If she does, she will regret it. Most of us are armed." Brodie reached for her arm.
"I'll be fine," she said, trying to step around him.
"Nonsense."
"Do you consider me clumsier than an elder?" Eyes as captivating as the blue sky above, she stared at him as if offended.
"Nay, but you've had a head injury. What if you should grow dizzy?" His tone was probably grumpier than it should have been, but he did not want her falling in such a treacherous place.
She blew out a breath. "Very well! If it makes you feel better."
"It does, obstinate lass." Brodie held on to Elsea's firm but slender upper arm as they descended the steep, uneven steps. How could she be so soft and strong at the same time?
Her cloak snagged on the heather and scrubby whins beside the path. The bushes were hacked back a few times per year, but they regrew quickly.
When they reached the flat sand and shingle of the beach, one of the guards was carrying Finnian through the shallow surf to keep his shoes and robes dry. 'Twould not do at all for the old man to catch an ague.
His boisterous clansmen, laughing and joking amongst themselves, were heavily armed with bows, arrows, swords, targes, and dirks. Having left their footwear in the guardhouse, they waded through the surf toward the galleys. Their bare feet also provided better traction on board.
"Are you going to permit me to carry you to the galley?" Brodie fully expected her to object to any contact with him.
She nodded, her slight smile halfway between impish and cautious. "I thank you, m'laird."
The formal address grated at him, but her slightly amused expression gave the impression she was teasing him.
After removing his boots and tossing them toward the guardhouse, Brodie lifted Elsea, trying not to look at her.
The familiar feel of her lithe body in his arms, against his chest, stirred up all sorts of chaos inside him.
Wading through the cool seawater, he carried her to the galley.
The clean, warm floral scent of her distracted him.
She didn't smell like roses, as she had in the past. This was a new fragrance, but equally sweet...
heather. Arousal surged through him and the impulse to bury his nose against her throat taunted him.
Staring straight ahead, he glared at his grinning clansmen who watched them from the galley.
"Chief, I would've been happy to carry her if you'd told me," Neil called.
"I'm perfectly capable of carrying a wee lass, you rogue."
Neil and the other men guffawed.
"I'm nay wee," Elsea muttered too low for his clansmen to hear.
"Light," Brodie amended. In the past, he might have teased her at a moment such as this, but not now. He tried to forget the dismal past and focus on his objective.
"Do you think you'll need my plaid again?" Neil winked at Elsea as he helped her on board.
"I'll be warm enough. I thank you, though," Elsea said with a smile, a blush staining her cheeks.
Even though a battle raged within his chest, Brodie ignored Neil's attempts at riling him. He boarded, and a few of the clansmen pushed the galleys out.
He sat beside Elsea on a thwart near the center, rowers along the sides. If the sea roughened, he could grab her and keep her from being tossed about. Thus far, she wore an agreeable expression, her eyes bright and expectant. She'd always been eager to travel, take galley trips, and see new places.
He was glad she was relaxed now, not fearful of the sea or any enemies they might see.
"With you and Finnian on board, we'll nay be going close enough for a fight. But if the knave should attack, we'll be ready," Brodie said. He was doubtful Talnaroch would be there.
The men rowed northward, singing "Iomairibh Eutrom" to keep in rhythm. 'Twas an ancient rowing song about a milkmaid who'd made the fatal mistake of gathering mussels at high tide. He'd always figured she must have been hungry, or mayhap her family was, to take such an enormous risk.
Only a couple of days ago, Elsea had come close to drowning. He shook his head. Despite everything, he could not bear imagining it.
Beside him now, her lovely high-pitched voice joined the men's deep intonations. One night, two years ago, she and Cat had sung together in the great hall after supper, enthralling the whole clan.
Abruptly, a foot long fish leapt from the water, sailing past Elsea and hitting Brodie in the chest. She gave a squeak of surprise.
"What the devil?" he muttered.
The salmon flopped on the bottom boards before he grabbed it and tossed it overboard.
"Chief, that was my supper!" Andrew, the clansman beside him, grinned.
Elsea laughed, too appealing by far.
Squelching a half smile, Brodie gave her a sideways glance.
"Reminds me of the time Gavin dropped the live trout down your shirt," she said.
"Aye, he's a prankster." To release the fish, Brodie had unbuckled his belt and dropped his kilt, right in front of Elsea and everyone. She had blushed scarlet while all the clansmen guffawed, along with Torr and Gavin. "I never repaid him for that delightful favor," Brodie said.
She chuckled again. "Cat told me Gavin is married now and his curse broken."
"Aye."
"She said she was married to Torr, but naught about his curse."