Chapter 13
After Brodie slammed the door on his way out, Elsea clenched her teeth. She refused to stay here!
She yanked the door open and stormed into the corridor. "I wish to speak to Lady MacCain," she told the first maid she encountered, one she hadn't met before.
The maid curtsied. "She is in her bedchamber, m'lady."
"Oh, 'tis early. I forgot." That dampened her mood.
The maid eyed her, obviously noticing her disturbed expression. Had she overheard her and Brodie arguing earlier, the shouts, the slamming doors? How could she have missed it?
"Her ladyship is having her hair styled. I'll ask her if she can see you." The maid strode away, and Elsea followed.
Once inside the elegant bedchamber filled with floral print fabrics, Elsea curtsied. The lovely scents of lavender and roses relaxed her muscles. "Good morn, m'lady. I'm sorry to bother you so early."
Agatha sat in a chair while her lady's maid unrolled her dark curls from strips of linen. "Lady Elsea, my dear, I'm so glad you're up and about. How do you feel?"
"Better. My memory has returned."
"Thanks be to God."
"I have a favor to ask. Could I borrow a horse for a short ride out on the moor?" She hated lying to the kind lady who had almost become her mother-in-law, but she had to escape this place.
"Heavens! 'Tis too soon after your head injury and unsafe besides."
"At home, I ride all the time. And I can defend myself. My brothers trained me in Highland knife fighting and swordplay."
Agatha's eyes widened. "Indeed? I had no idea."
"Aye. I'll need to borrow a dirk or sword. I lost mine."
"Well, you'll have to ask Brodie. He keeps the weapons locked up, and he's over the stables."
Nails biting into her palms, Elsea nodded. Blast it. The lady was of no help. "I thank you." She curtsied and quit the room.
She did not want to ask Brodie for anything. He need not know what she was doing. Since she remembered her intent, she was going back to it. She had to find the rest of the selkies and rescue them. How? She would go to the beast himself, Talnaroch.
How she wished she had her own mare and all her weapons. She hurried out to the stables, hoping she could talk one of the lads into saddling a horse for her.
"Lady MacCain said I might borrow a horse for a ride on the moor," she told the stable lad. Aye, 'twas a lie, but it couldn't be helped.
"M'lady." He bowed. "Which one?"
"A gentle but fleet-footed one."
"Aye, well." He scratched his head.
The stablemaster approached and bowed. "M'lady."
"She said her ladyship gave her leave to borrow a horse."
"Well... we must ask his lairdship. Ah, there he is now." He glanced at the keep's exit steps.
When Brodie's eyes locked on hers, he stormed in her direction, expression darkening once again.
"Blast," she gritted.
"M'laird." The two servants bowed when he drew close.
"What is going on here?" Brodie glared at her.
"I'm borrowing a horse for a ride on the moor," she said in a faux sweet tone. "I ride every day at home. But I haven't ridden for a while now. I need the exercise."
"If you would excuse us." Brodie clasped her upper arm in a firm grip and steered her away from the stablemaster and the lad. "I see what you're doing. I'm nay allowing you to leave, as I've already said."
"You cannot keep me imprisoned here."
He snorted. "Imprisoned, aye? How are you going to show me where the castle is if you leave? I thought you wished to help the females."
She did. She considered for a moment. "After I show you where the castle is, will you allow me to leave?"
"Nay. Not alone. And not until Talnaroch's whole operation is brought down."
How could she infiltrate his operation if Brodie kept her caged here?
"You want to leave because you're vexed with me," he said.
"Aye, that too," she admitted.
"Regardless, you cannot go galloping across the moor so soon after that head injury. Besides, a witch is trying to kill you, not to mention the bastard earl."
"The earl will not try to kill me. He has no inkling I was on the galley."
"He might, if whoever kicked you down saw your face and still lives."
Well, that was a risk she would have to take.
"Clearly the head injury has ruined your reasoning ability." Brodie studied her. "What are you nay telling me?"
"Naught."
"The more you lie, the less I trust you."
What could she say to that? Nothing. She shrugged. "I have nay need of your trust. I but wish to help the other female selkies gain their freedom."
"And how the hell would you help them?" he asked as if she was capable of nothing.
"After I show you where the castle is on the coast, you will check to see if the females are there. If they are not, I will find out from Talnaroch where they are."
"Do you think he's going to tell you?" The words exploded from Brodie's mouth. "He would just as soon kill you as reveal his secrets."
"Talnaroch wishes to marry me, nay kill me."
Brodie shook his head, danger emanating from his dark eyes.
"Damnation, but the head injury has rattled your brain loose.
You said he knows you followed him to the castle.
When he went back there after the raid, where does he think you went?
Did one of his men see your face on the birlinn?
Do you think the bastard will trust you again? "
Bollocks! She hadn't thought of that. "I'll tell him some knave kidnapped me." She gave Brodie a pointed look.
He scoffed. "Oh, now saving you from drowning has turned into kidnapping, huh?"
She shrugged. Turning her back on him, she strode toward the keep, escape plans spinning through her mind. She would show him the castle, aye, and then she would leave.
She trotted up the steps into the great hall, then climbed the spiral stone stair. Footsteps pounded behind her, and she turned.
Brodie's dark look was even more menacing in the dimness of the stairwell.
"Leave me be." She continued upward toward the chamber he'd allowed her. Should she thank him for that?
In the corridor, he continued to follow her.
"My wishes mean naught to you, do they?" she asked.
"Your safety matters to me."
"Why? You hate me."
"Stop with the daft questions," he growled.
"You keep calling me daft. Do you think 'tis a compliment?"
"Stop making poor decisions, then. I saw the look in your eyes. You intend to slip out when no one is looking."
"'Tis my choice to escape this prison. I'm glad I didn't marry you, for I would've only been a prisoner, aye?"
The jolt of pain that crossed his face surprised her and made her regret it immediately, but then he narrowed his eyes.
"The man you left with, the man you chose over me, is a shining example of an honorable, principled nobleman, aye?
" he asked with sarcasm. "A hundred times better than I am, right? Is that what you think?"
She couldn't respond to that, for everything in her rebelled against it.
"If so, go to him," Brodie said. "Marry him. See how grand your life is."
***
brODIE SLAMMED THE door on his way out. Damn the lass! He could no longer abide Elsea or the confines of this castle.
He stomped down the stairs, through the great hall and out the exit, ignoring all the gaping people he passed. Aye, they had heard the shouts, and he didn't care.
Of a certainty, she could marry the bastard earl if she wished, but not until after the selkie abductions stopped and the females were rescued and safe. Until then, she was staying here.
He strode to the barracks. "Kenneth," he called.
His sword bearer appeared. Noticing Brodie's foul mood, he halted. "Chief. What's wrong?"
"Lady Elsea is trying to leave on her own. Do nay allow it. She'll get herself killed out on the moors. Assign several guards along the walls, stables, the postern gate, everywhere. Keep a watch day and night. She's cunning, and she's armed. Do nay underestimate her."
Kenneth's eyes widened. "Aye, chief. As you say."
"I appreciate it." Brodie strode away. 'Haps he had overdone it, but he did not want her escaping and getting herself hurt again, or worse. Aye, he was furious with her, but that didn't mean he wanted her to die.
Heavy gray clouds loomed overhead as he descended the craggy steps down to the shore. In the small cave, he unbuckled his belt and threw his clothes into a heap on the stone ledge. Outside, in the edge of the cool surf, he slid on the sealskin and shifted.
An immense sense of relief washed over him as he glided through the cold salt water. How he loved this... loved being a selkie. He would not give it up in exchange for trusting a backstabbing wench who talked out of both sides of her mouth.
His rage floated away, and calm overcame him.
Soon, he arrived at Ròncreag Isle. After shifting, he hurried into the cave. The fire had burned down to ash.
"Margaret?" He strode into the dark back cavern. Empty.
Where the devil had she gone?
Outside, he gazed along the beach in both directions. The pearl light of dawn revealed no one. He sprinted along the beach until he reached the path that led to the opposite side of the island. The wind whipped more severely on the western side. Also deserted.
He'd explored every inch of this island and knew it held no other caves.
Margaret could've left in only two ways. Either a galley had come for her, or she'd shifted into a bird... or a fish.
Returning to the cave, he found the smock and arisaid he'd brought from Farspag for her to wear weeks ago, along with the thick woolen blanket. If she'd boarded a galley, she would've worn the clothing.
Cursing his idiocy, he went outside and sat on the sand. What the devil had he been doing, bedding Wilona MacRae for a month or longer?
"Bloody hell." She turned his stomach.
How could he have been so blind? Duped by not just one woman, but two. Gavin had tried to tell him Margaret was Wilona, but Brodie had refused to believe it. Refused to see reason.
Damn it all, he was an idiot.
And Elsea... thinking of her now was torturous.
Why the hell had he kissed her? Such a foolish decision.