Chapter 3
Elsea preceded Talnaroch into the solar, then Tilly dragged her sister Helen, another maid, into the room.
The two women sat in the far corner, doing needlework in the candlelight and whispering.
Occasionally, they cast furtive, wide-eyed glances at the earl.
Tilly hissed and popped her finger into her mouth.
Had she stabbed it with the needle? She must have indeed been nervous.
Elsea slid her hand beneath her leg, squelching the urge to bite a fingernail. She did not want to be here so close to him, but she must study him and learn how to outsmart him.
Sitting beside her in a separate padded wooden chair, he turned his annoyed gaze from the maids to Elsea. His demeanor shifted to friendly charm. What a thespian. His acting skills might fool anyone who didn't know his true nature.
She forced a na?ve expression as if enamored.
"The chief has said you are not opposed to my proposal," Talnaroch murmured.
Saints! He didn't waste any time, did he?
"What say you, Lady Elsea? Will you do me the honor of becoming my bride?"
Cold sweat trickled down her body. He had not even knelt to propose. Too proud, of course.
She swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "I have nay yet decided. I would like a month to think on it."
Displaying a faux half smile, he narrowed his eyes and studied her face. Was he trying to peer beneath the surface to see her true thoughts and feelings? Was he insulted that she didn't instantly accept and leap for joy?
"How about a fortnight?" he asked. "After the betrothal, we can marry in the summer."
She supposed that would be enough time to expose his crimes and free the selkies. If he found out she was behind thwarting him, he would not wish to marry her, anyway. In fact, he might try to kill her instead.
"Very well," she said. "I will give you my answer in a fortnight."
"I'm pleased." He lifted her hand and kissed it. "If you should accept, I shall buy you anything you want—silken gowns, fine jewelry. We'll have a rewarding marriage, I vow." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "And pleasure filled."
She shivered with revulsion, but, based on his haughty grin, he took it for a different kind of shiver.
Forcing herself to begin her mission, she said, "'Haps we can get to know each other better over the next few days."
He sat back. "I regret that I must leave early in the morn. I have a business engagement, but I shall return here in a fortnight."
"What sort of business?" she asked, studying his expression in the candlelight.
He grinned salaciously, his gray eyes turning glassy and dark. "Horse trading."
Ah, so that's what he called selkie abduction. Clearly, he enjoyed it a bit too much. He was probably a rapist, too.
"Well, I'm certain you wish to get some rest before your early departure." Needing to get away from him and the malevolence emanating from him, she rose and headed toward the door. "As I mentioned before, I'm weary from horse riding."
Catching up to her, he took her hand and kissed it again. "I thank you for considering my proposal, my beautiful lady."
Did he expect her to thank him for proposing? She certainly wasn't going to.
"I'll see you in the morn, then." She curtsied and strode out the door in front of him. Was he glaring at her back for not accepting straightaway?
Out of his sight, she paused in the corridor, listening to his footsteps clunking down the spiral stone staircase. What a sickening demon.
Tilly caught up with Elsea and followed her to the bedchamber. The maid was uncharacteristically quiet while helping her undress.
"What do you think of him?" Elsea asked. Could the maid detect his maliciousness?
Her eyes flaring wide, Tilly hesitated. "Well... 'tis nay my place to give my humble opinion of an earl."
"But I'm asking you. Do you think he's a good man?"
Tilly cleared her throat. "I have nay notion. 'Tis the first time I've been near him."
"Oh, so you have no intuition about a person's nature?" Elsea challenged, for she knew her maid was wise.
"All that matters is what you think of him, m'lady.
Because of... what happened before when they said you left with him, I thought you were smitten.
" Tilly hung up the gown and turned back.
"I hope you can forgive me for bringing it up, but...
in my estimation, Chief Brodie MacCain was a better match for you. "
An imaginary fist smashed into her chest, taking away her breath. "Aye, but that is over and dead," Elsea whispered. "It cannot be resurrected."
Tilly nodded, her mouth downturned. "'Tis a pity, lass, for the entire clan loved him, including your da, may God rest his soul. When Chief Brodie placed that betrothal ring on your finger, there was nay a dry eye in the hall."
Why didn't her maid simply choke her? 'Twould have been the same sensation and far easier to tolerate.
Tilly left the room and closed the door with a click, for which Elsea was eternally grateful. She couldn't have gotten a word out.
She sat by the fire, trying to breathe normally, refusing to let her heart pour out. Refusing to be pulled back into the past. 'Twas a place she couldn't go.
But the betrothal ring... Elsea had tried to forget about it.
Nay. She couldn't look at it. She shouldn't... but could not banish it from her mind now.
She had wrapped the precious ring in an ivory silk cloth, tied it up tight with a ruby satin ribbon, and put it in a box as if it had been her fractured heart.
She should've given the ring back, but she couldn't. 'Twas the only thing she had left of him.
The item that represented the happiest moments of her life.
Restless, she leapt up and paced, desperation engulfing her. All she needed was a wee glimpse, just a moment to touch the past, to hold it in her hand.
Giving in, she strode to the table and opened her small, carved oak jewelry chest and searched inside. The item she sought was buried beneath brooches, necklaces, and tangled ribbons.
After unearthing it, she cradled the parcel she hadn't touched in a year and a half. Did she truly wish the past to envelop her? Craving the warmth and brightness of her best memories, she untied the crimson bow, parted the wrinkled cloth, and revealed the gold ring.
The dark blue sapphire still gleamed in the candlelight as it had when Brodie had placed it on her finger. Her throat tightening painfully, she clasped the ring in her fist.
He'd surprised her, proposing only six days after they'd met. When she'd whispered, tears in her eyes, that she had no betrothal gift for him yet, he'd said, "you're the only gift I need."
She shook her head. Brodie had been the gift, a good and honorable man, perfect for her. Yet she'd destroyed it all, for his sake, so he would live.
Taking a midnight blue braided cord from her trunk, she cut it to length, then looped it through the ring. She tied the cord around her neck like a necklace and hid the ring underneath her smock.
"I do this for you, Brodie," she whispered. In the deepest part of her soul, she wished she could make amends, but 'twould never be possible.
He might never know of her mission to help the selkies, but with her last breath, she would atone... for herself and her own soul.
If she could help someone else, mayhap she could forgive herself.
Doubts crowded into her mind again, for she had done nothing like this before.
What was the best course of action? She knew of only one—to secretly follow Talnaroch and find out where and how he was abducting selkies.
His guard had mentioned an island. Elsea might be able to slip on board one of the galleys.
Where was he keeping them imprisoned? Corran had taught her how to pick locks, and she imagined breaking them out.
The task might be dangerous, but it called to her. She would help the selkie women gain their freedom from these brigands. She had naught to lose.
***
THE NEXT MORN, ELSEA awoke at daybreak, her eyes scratchy. She had slept little during the night. While pacing, she'd packed her valise with a change of clothes, then hid it beneath the bed.
Her stomach was still too unsettled for her to eat more than a few bites from the breakfast tray Tilly had brought.
Elsea did not want to join her brothers and the earl in the great hall, giving the excuse it was too early.
In truth, sitting beside the knave and pretending she might consider marrying him filled her with restless dread. Her hands were already jittery.
After Tilly had helped her dress, Elsea had given her the rest of the morning off. She didn't want her maid to know her plans.
In the kitchen, Elsea had filched a loaf of bread, a few bannocks, and some cheese while the servants were distracted. She'd wrapped the food in a cloth, crammed it into her valise, and taken it out to her horse's stall.
Aside from the Highland dirk sheathed on her belt, she carried four hidden, sheathed sgian dubh knives on her forearms and her calves, and a sgian achlais beneath her armpit.
She strode outside into the frosty air with everyone else to see Talnaroch and his garrison off.
The sounds of horses and men mounting filled the bailey.
Near the stables, Talnaroch took her hand into his gloved one and kissed the back. "I'll miss you until I see you again, beautiful lass."
She forced her lips upward in a brief smile. "Have a safe trip, m'laird."
He grinned. "You are adorable." Still holding her hand, he led her into the stables. "And I cannot wait until we're married."
Imagining it, she recoiled and hoped he could not see her expression clearly in the dimness.
"I promise to be a good husband to you," he continued. Once out of sight of those in the bailey, he leaned down and cruelly assaulted her mouth with his. His tongue was like a pike, stabbing into her mouth, then his teeth latched on to her bottom lip with a sharp bite.
"Ow!" she shrieked and almost called him a bastard to his face.