Chapter 2
The groom and stable lads hurried to help with the visitors' fine horses. Elsea could not cross the bailey now without the Earl of Talnaroch seeing her.
Her stomach ached with nerves. She was not ready to face him, nor would she ever be. Saints! If she could escape these walls with her horse, she would disappear.
Where would she go? South to her aunt's, where her mother now was? Or west to her cousins, the MacElraths' holdings?
With jittery hands, she latched the door to Freya's stall and slid underneath it so that no one would suspect she was inside.
"What am I doing?" she whispered. Hiding like a frightened child?
'Twas madness, but she had to think. Talnaroch's arrival was not only mortifying but also a shock.
She didn't wish to see that knave. Ever.
On the surface, he was handsome, sure, but he was the one man she wished she had never met.
She did not blame him for her breakup with Brodie; she blamed Wilona MacRae.
But Talnaroch was the reason Elsea could never face Brodie again.
Talnaroch had treated her no better than a tavern wench. Why would he suddenly wish to marry her? It made no sense.
In the dark stall, she petted Freya and listened as the men unsaddled and brushed the newly arriving horses, then brought them into the stalls to feed them. She wished they would hurry so she could go inside without anyone seeing her.
"We'll nay be here long," a stranger said outside the stall door. "His lairdship wishes to leave at first light."
"What's the rush?" The voice belonged to Randall, one of her brother's guards.
Elsea stilled, trying to hide her presence.
"Business," the man said evasively.
"What sort?" Randall said in a secretive tone.
Elsea frowned. Did the two men know each other?
"We're paid well for our silence on the matter." The stranger's words were barely audible over the noise of men brushing and feeding horses.
"How much?"
"Twice what others pay."
"In truth?" A long pause stretched out. "Do you think he would hire me?" Randall asked.
"You would need to ask him."
"Is the work dangerous?"
The stranger grunted. "Nay more than guarding."
They were quiet for a minute while the other men led horses into the stables.
The two guards mumbled words, and the only one she understood was raid.
"Cattle?" Randall asked in a hushed tone.
The stranger chuckled but kept his voice low. "Nay. Something far bonnier."
During the silence, Elsea also wanted to know what sort of raids the earl was going on.
"Damnation, Roy, I have nay second sight," Randall grumbled.
"Swear you will never tell a soul?" Roy gritted out.
"Of course, I swear. I need a job that pays better."
Roy hissed an unintelligible word.
Pulse hammering in her ears, Elsea held her breath and turned her head, trying to hear better.
"Did you say... selkies?" Randall mumbled.
Elsea froze, mouth dropping open.
"Shh. He will have my head if word gets out."
Randall snorted. "You're mad. They're nay real."
"I carried one of the lasses. She felt real to me."
What the devil? Elsea didn't know more selkies existed... besides Brodie.
"Where?" Randall asked.
"An island."
"What's he doing with them?"
"What do you think?" Roy asked in a cryptic tone. "Gambling and fine horses require a fat purse. Besides, debt could be involved."
Elsea narrowed her eyes, a storm raging through her chest.
"Are their men skilled fighters?"
"Nay, but they're getting training. Some say he is a clan chief, but also... one of them."
"The laird will likely need more soldiers. I must talk to him." Randall said.
The two walked away.
Elsea bit her lip, scarcely able to breathe as all this new information spun and clashed within her head. Was Brodie the chief they talked about?
Selkie women being abducted.... Elsea could not fathom the cruelty. What on earth was Talnaroch doing with them? Selling them like livestock to the highest bidder? For twisted perversions? Rape?
Nausea roiled inside her.
Brodie was savvy about defense, but Talnaroch's garrison could outnumber him and the selkie men.
The earl traveled with a large force, but he likely had dozens or hundreds more back at his main keep.
The MacCains would not have that many soldiers unless Brodie called on his allies, the MacTavish clan, the MacElrath clan, and others.
Did Brodie know Talnaroch was behind the kidnappings?
A deep urgency compelled her to help the poor female selkies who were being taken into captivity, used and abused horribly.
The miscreants had to be stopped.
Once the voices drifted away, and the stables grew quiet, except for the horses eating, blowing, and snorting softly, she pulled the hood over her head to hide her pale hair and slid beneath the stall door.
After rising to her feet, she hurried outside into the darkness and along the side of the castle to the kitchen entrance.
Inside, she rushed through the hot, busy room and up the stairs. The maids and staff ignored her, for they were used to seeing her slip in and out.
Two floors up, she entered her chamber.
"There you are, m'lady!" Her maid threw her hands in the air.
"Indeed, Tilly. Calm yourself." Elsea eyed the middle-aged woman who wore a white kertch over her silvery-gray hair. "Why are you so distraught?"
"I thought the Bodach-sith had abducted you out on the moor and taken you to his lair."
"Och. There is no such thing." Elsea removed her cloak.
"Humph, so you say, but we well ken witches, curses, and shapeshifters are real. Aye?"
Elsea scowled. How had her maid learned so much about Brodie and his situation? The servants certainly gossiped aplenty below stairs.
"Come, lass. You must bathe forthwith. Look at you... mud spattered on your lovely face and in your hair. The chief bid me dress you in your finest and style your hair. He said we have important visitors."
"Bollocks," Elsea muttered, her stomach clenching.
Tilly's eyes rounded. "M'lady! Such language. You've spent far too much time with your brothers. 'Haps you should've gone south with your ma."
Elsea rolled her eyes. "And have my aunt and cousins whisper behind my back and call me a trollop? I thank you, but nay!"
"Well, never mind them." Tilly waved a dismissive hand. "Why are you nay excited about the visitors?"
"'Tis Talnaroch," Elsea spat the words, as if he were the plague itself.
"Oh!" Tilly's face flushed. She well knew of Elsea's past association with him, as did everyone in the country, apparently.
"They say he is here to ask for my hand," Elsea went on.
"Oh heavens, m'lady! You will be a countess!" Beaming a smile, Tilly near bounced on her toes.
"I have nay wish to be a countess. The man is a beast."
"I hope he does nay ken of your impertinence."
Elsea didn't care what he thought of her, but she had to be on her best behavior if she was to get close enough to him to learn more about the kidnappings. She had never imagined rescuing or freeing people. Could she do it? She might be leaping in over her head, but she knew how to swim.
She considered herself physically strong for a woman. Mayhap this was what her many years of training had been for. She would pretend to go along with Talnaroch, but she would not marry the knave.
Tilly helped her out of her arisaid and smock, revealing the tight-fitting plaid trews she wore beneath her skirts.
"Och, m'lady. How scandalous you are, wearing men's trews again."
"They're nay men's. I had them made for me, and they're perfect for riding astride. If I am thrown and my skirts fly over my head, my lower half will be covered."
"Well... that much is true."
Tilly helped her wash off the mud that had spattered her during her ride. Once clean, she put on an elegant green velvet gown, the color of malachite. Her mother had bought it in France years ago, but 'twas still in good repair. Why couldn't Ma be here now?
What good would that do? She would only encourage Elsea to marry the despicable earl.
Tilly brushed Elsea's long blond hair, fashioned it into two thick braids in front, and swept them backward and up, then pinned them.
"There now. He will enjoy seeing your beautiful face, m'lady."
"'Twould be better if I could hide."
"Nay, now. You wish to marry, aye?"
"Anyone but him." The question created too much chaos within her. Aye, in the past she had wanted to marry... a certain dark-haired, bewitching chief, but not Talnaroch. She would do her best in pretending to tolerate him.
A light knock sounded at the door.
"Who is it?" Elsea called.
"Me, William. Come to the solar when you're ready."
"Aye." Her stomach knotting, she glanced at Tilly. "Am I ready? How do I look?"
"Oh, lovely, m'lady." Tilly grinned warmly. "You will take the earl's breath away."
Ugh. "Come now. There's nay need for lies."
"I'm telling God's honest truth!" the maid said.
"Well, thanks to you, I'm presentable."
"I wish you the best of luck." Tilly curtsied.
Elsea would need it, for she knew what her brother was going to say even before she entered the solar.
Once she did, she found Will standing behind his desk, dressed in his finest plaid, a creamy shirt, black doublet, dress sporran, and other chief regalia.
He had been chief for about two years. With his medium-brown, collar-length hair and short beard, he resembled their father when she'd been a small child.
How she missed Da and wished he were here now. Her dreadful mood sagged further.
Will motioned to the chair in front of the desk, then seated himself.
"Kieran told me about Talnaroch's missive," she blurted. "You could've told me when you received it."
Will lifted a brow. "Would you still be here?"
She shrugged. Mayhap not. She might have panicked and fled.
"Well, you look lovely. I'm glad you're nay opposed to having supper with the earl."
"'Twill be a chore, I assure you."
Will chuckled. "Kieran told you that Talnaroch has offered for your hand?"
Her chest tightening, she nodded.
"The earl apologized for compromising you and said he wishes to do right by you."
"Indeed?" she asked doubtfully.