Chapter 15 #2
He should compliment how beautiful she looked and thank her for her kindness to the selkies, but he couldn't. The words would not emerge.
He wanted this meal over with. One of the men said grace, and the servants brought the food.
He made certain Elsea had plenty on her trencher, then he started devouring his food—buttered bread, sea bass, pigeon, roasted carrots and parsnips.
He was too busy chewing to talk to her anyway, and he was glad.
His mother leaned around Elsea and eyed him critically. "Brodie, you are eating like a starving boar pig," she whispered. "Slow down, or you will choke yourself."
Elsea bit her lip, squelching a grin.
He swallowed. "I am far more than five summers old, Mother."
Elsea snorted, and he feared she might be the one who would choke.
"Well, you've always been a saucy lad," his mother chided softly.
Elsea placed the napkin over her mouth, smothering a laugh, and her eyes glimmered with tears of mirth.
Blast it all! He hated being the butt of their jokes. Rolling his eyes, he continued eating in earnest, for he must get to the island soonest.
Elsea leaned toward him. "Did I thank you?" she whispered.
He drank a sip of ale. "For what?"
"Dragging me from the sea and saving my life."
He shrugged. "There's no need."
"Well, I wish to thank you."
"You're welcome," he murmured. He couldn't allow anyone to drown, now, could he? Unless it was the whoreson Talnaroch himself.
Thinking of the bastard, Brodie could not stop his mood from plummeting further. He shoved his chair back and rose. "If you will excuse me, ladies." After giving a brief bow, he leapt down from the dais and headed toward the exit. 'Twas time to slip into Dunrhyne Castle.
***
ELSEA FROWNED AS brODIE strode across the great hall, his mother grumbling beside her.
He was leaving for Dunrhyne to rescue any female selkies held there, but she worried for his safety. He would take several males with him, but they might not be as well trained as Talnaroch's vicious men. And the witch could help the raiders again.
Elsea needed to remind him.
"Please excuse me, m'lady," Elsea said to his mother.
"I must tell Brodie something." Not waiting for her response, Elsea hastened to the door and stepped outside into the cool, blustery evening.
'Twas the far edge of gloaming, and the wind had picked up.
She stepped back inside, grabbed a cloak from a peg by the door, and put it on as she hurried down the steps.
She drew the large hood over her head. 'Twas Brodie's cloak, for it held his masculine scent—salty sea breezes, Scots pine, wood smoke, and whisky blended with his special herbal soap.
Her earlier conversation with Finnian weighed heavily on her mind as she dashed across the bailey. Where was Brodie? Already outside the walls?
At the portcullis, she approached the guard who stood by the side gate, a key still in his hand. "Please unlock the gate. I'm going with his lairdship."
The stocky, gray-bearded guard frowned. "But a storm is approaching, m'lady."
"I must warn him of something dangerous. 'Tis of vital importance."
"Very well. Hurry back." The guard bowed and unlocked the small gate.
She dashed toward the cliff's edge, the wind hitting her face and dragging at her clothes as it raged overland. Below, the silvery whitecaps of the sea outlined Brodie's silhouette. Another man stood with him, a guard.
Brief snatches of moonlight beamed between the sailing clouds, partially illuminating the craggy stone steps down the cliffside. She must hurry before he shifted and left.
Halfway down, Brodie yelled at her. "Return to the keep!"
"Nay." Her heart ached, and the wind stung her eyes. A storm could be dangerous, even to a selkie. And the earl's men were deadly. She must warn him and tell him to have a care.
The guard said something to him.
"Nay, I'll handle it. Go inside."
The guard strode away from him and toward the stone guardhouse on the shore, near the landed galleys. The men had removed them from the sea, preparing for the coming storm.
"What the devil are you doing?" Brodie shouted at her. "Go back! Now. That's an order."
"I take nay orders from you," she mumbled, too low for him to hear and continued her painstaking descent, the rocks scraping her hands.
Cursing, Brodie stomped toward her. "A gale is approaching. We'll talk when I return."
Finishing her descent, she reached the more level shore, but rocks littered the area. Unable to see them well in the gloom, she stumbled a bit.
Brodie grabbed her arm. "Why are you following me?" he demanded, halfway between a growl and a shout.
"I must tell you something!"
"What? Can you nay see a fierce storm is coming?" He flung an arm toward the west and the waves crashing nearby.
"Of course. You must have a care. The earl's guards are vicious. They will fight without honor, and the witch could be helping them again. I wish you to stay safe."
"I'll be fine. A dozen selkie males are going with me. We'll outnumber them."
A forked bolt of lightning in the distance startled her, stealing her breath. "'Tis going to be a horrible storm. Wait until after it passes. The sea is too rough now."
"The selkies are waiting for me," he growled.
"They will understand that the weather has delayed you."
"You are the one delaying me. Damn it all! I will take you back." He moved to lift her, but she drew back out of his reach. "Lass," he said between clenched teeth. "I'm warning you."
"Do nay threaten me! I'm only trying to help you."
"I have nay need of your help. Did the guard allow you through?" he snapped.
"Of course. Do you imagine I can climb over walls?"
"I'll tell him to never let you through the gate again without my approval."
A gust of wind slammed against her, almost blowing her over, and a few raindrops stung her face. But something urged her to tell him the truth. To make him see reason.
He grabbed her arm, steadying her. "You can barely stand out here."
'Twas now or never. She must bare her soul. "Brodie, I'm sorry for all I've done to you! I pray you will forgive me."
He glared for a long moment. "Go back!" He pointed up the steps. "Now!"
"Why did you kiss me?" she demanded. "If you hate me so much, why did you kiss me?"
Lightning flared, illuminating his fearsome expression for a moment. Thunder rumbled along with the crashing waves spraying over them.
"Is that nay what harlots expect?" he snarled. "To be kissed and bedded by all the men? Is that why you followed me out here, to finish seducing me?"
His spiteful words striking her speechless, she shook her head. Remembering Finnian's advice, she forced herself to let him vent. If he could unload all his pain and rage upon her, mayhap he could heal.
"Your seduction skills are highly developed after all your practice on other men," he yelled.
For the first time, she experienced his agony, for he was inflicting some of it back on her.
He had always been so kind before. So sweet and attentive.
She had caused this. The rain and salt spray mixed with the tears burning her eyes.
His rage and hatred reinforced the curse, and to overcome it, he must release all the venomous emotions.
"Hurt me all you wish," she said, her voice shaking.
"Take your revenge! Go on, then." She grabbed his hand and placed it on her throat.
"Strangle me and be done with it, as you've threatened.
Throw my lifeless body into the sea and let it wash away in the storm.
No one will know. 'Tis no worse than I deserve. You are blameless."
He slid his hand behind her neck, yanked her against him, and kissed her hard, his actions as fierce as their argument. His lips were savage on hers.
Oh, saints! How she loved him, how sorry she was for damaging him so severely. She slid her arms around him, holding on to his powerful body with all her might. He was beyond precious to her.