Chapter 18 #2
Ruskin moved the bigger table closer to him, and she set the tray on it.
Brodie picked up the spiced wine glass and drank, then glared with utmost dread at the black pudding and haggis. Normally, he liked both, but his stomach threatened to rebel. What if he retched in front of the lass? He would never live it down.
"I can only tolerate broth," Brodie muttered.
"Your mother insisted I bring the haggis and black pudding," Elsea said.
He exhaled. "Of course. I would expect nothing less."
He took a bite of the warm, buttered bread and chewed. 'Twas tolerable. The more he ate, the better it tasted.
"Did you put butter on this?" he asked her.
"Aye. Do you like it?" Her gaze searched his face.
"'Tis good. I appreciate it."
"Do you want anything else?" Her tone was so kind, her gaze so affectionate. Both lanced at his heart, and he thought about how she had declared her love the night before, more than once. He tried to block the memory.
"Nay." He looked down, focusing on the bowl of beef broth on the tray.
It did not smell appetizing at all. He didn't know if he could tolerate it, but he must try for the sake of his strength.
He raised the spoonful of warm liquid to his mouth.
Salty. It tasted better than he'd imagined.
He ate most of the bread and broth but did not touch the rest of it.
He glanced at Elsea, so prim, proper, and confident. So strong. Why was she going to so much trouble to help him? And being so kind? After the way he'd... treated her in the cave?
She'd liked it, something within him whispered.
Nay, she'd loved it. Most of all, he had loved the raw, primal force of it.
He tried to put it from his mind, but the memories were harassing him, torturing him.
Arousal threatened, making him dizzy. Hell, he was not well enough to even contemplate....
When Finnian walked into the room, Brodie said, "Can you bring me some whisky?"
"'Haps a little, watered down. Are you in pain?"
"Aye." Physically and emotionally. He needed enough whisky to knock him out for several hours.
***
THE NEXT DAY, A NOISE roused Brodie from a light sleep, and he opened his eyes.
His sister's flaming ginger curls and concerned aquamarine eyes came into focus.
Confused, Brodie scowled and glanced aside to see Torr, his tawny-brown hair windblown and his green eyes fierce as if they were in battle.
Was Brodie having a fevered dream? Imagining things?
The renewed pain stabbing his chest told him he was not.
"What the devil are you two doing here?" Brodie said through gritted teeth.
Torr chuckled. "Nice to see you, too, my friend. How are you feeling?"
"Grand. Did Ma send for you?"
"Aye," Cat said, moving closer to him. "Since I cannot give you a hug...." She kissed him on the forehead. Even though the gesture made him feel like a small child, he appreciated his sister's affection.
"When they told us how badly you'd been hurt, I was terrified," she said.
"How did you get here so fast?" Brodie asked. "How long have I been asleep?"
"At Finnian's request, Ma sent a missive, and we received it a sennight ago."
"Why?" That was before anything had happened.
"In the keek stane, Finnian foresaw impending trouble for you, and he was right," Cat explained. "Ma sent the clan messenger. We came as soon as we could."
Finnian was always warning him of danger, so much so, he'd been ignoring it. "You should not have come. I refuse to put you two in peril."
"Do nay fash over it." Torr waved a dismissive hand.
"We wanted to come back and help you," Cat said.
"I'm glad to see you both, but I have nay need of your help."
"Look at yourself," she said, raising her voice and gesturing at his chest. "You're injured."
"I'll be back to normal soon. Selkies heal quickly."
Narrowing her eyes, Cat crossed her arms over her chest.
"How bad is the cut?" Torr nodded at the bandage.
"'Tis eight or ten inches long. Finnian stitched it right after he scalded it with whisky."
Torr grimaced.
"Did you eat?" Brodie asked. "Go refresh yourselves."
"We are well," Cat said.
A light knock sounded at the door.
"Enter," Brodie said.
Elsea opened the door.
"Oh, Lady Elsea! You're here?" Cat hurried forward and embraced her. "No one told me. 'Tis wonderful to see you, my friend."
Elsea beamed a wide smile, her eyes alight with happiness. "I'm delighted to see you, too, Lady Cat."
Brodie could not stop staring. Elsea used to smile at him like that, but she had not gifted him with such a look in ages. 'Twas one of the things he used to love about her. One of the many things.
"Cousin Torr." Elsea curtsied.
He bowed, and they exchanged pleasantries.
"You must tell us everything," Torr said to Brodie, eyeing him with curiosity, a teasing glint in his gaze.
"I need to talk to Torr alone," Brodie said, giving his sister a stern look. Besides, he did not need Elsea in the room, smiling and making him feel as if he'd been kicked in the stomach. 'Twas hard enough to breathe without pain. He knew what they assumed. He would enlighten Torr soonest.
"Fine," Cat said in a sullen tone. "You must tell me everything," she whispered and touched Torr's arm. "I'm going to eat. Do either of you want anything?"
"Nay," Torr said.
Brodie shook his head.
Once she left with Elsea, Torr closed the door.
"Cat cannot be involved because of the danger," Brodie blurted.
"I agree." Torr sat in the chair by the bed. "She's nay trained in knife fighting the way Elsea is."
"I refuse to allow Elsea to be injured again either."
"How was she injured?"
"A vile whoreson kicked her down on a galley, and she hit her head." Brodie explained almost everything that had happened up to the present, including that the Earl of Talnaroch was the kidnapper.
"Talnaroch? Saints! You must be jesting!" Torr well knew the bastard earl was the one Elsea had left Brodie for.
"The very same blackguard." Brodie told him the reason the greedy whoreson was kidnapping the selkies and about the ten who were still missing.
After knocking, a maid entered with a tray of ale and placed it on the table. They thanked her, and she closed the door on the way out. Torr handed him a tankard and took one for himself.
Brodie reclined against a mountain of pillows, which allowed him to drink comfortably.
"How is Elsea's head injury?" Torr asked.
"Better."
"Have you forgiven her?"
Brodie scowled. "Are you mad?"
Torr snorted, then eyed him for a long moment. "She put herself in extreme danger to help the selkies."
"I'm grateful, and I thanked her for freeing them, but that has naught to do with her earlier betrayal. I have no clue about her true motivation."
"You think she's lying?"
Brodie shrugged, then winced at the stinging pain in his chest. "Why would she risk her life so profoundly to help females she'd never met? I view anything she says with skepticism. She has proven herself hellishly untrustworthy. Besides, she's betrothed to the bastard."
"Because Will signed the contract without her permission, aye?"
"According to her."
Torr nodded.
"You're her second cousin, so you're on her side, I ken," Brodie said.
"I'm impartial. I simply wish you two would put all the betrayal behind you, forgive, and make your curse null and void."
"Forget it," Brodie grumbled and sipped the bitter, refreshing ale. "Do you ken if my mother sent a missive to Gavin?"
"Most likely."
"Blast her meddlesome hide."
Torr chuckled.
"I wish she would let me handle my own conflicts. I did nay want to put you and Gavin in danger."
"We've always had each other's backs. And we got into this conflict with the witch together. We must finish it together."
"And by finish it you mean finish her off, aye?"
"Indeed. But only after your curse is destroyed. You ken the rules. How is Finnian doing?"
"He's well." Brodie told Torr more details about what had happened thus far, except for the incident in the cave with Elsea.
Hell, he hoped they never found out about it.
Would Elsea tell Cat? He closed his eyes in dread.
If women shared secrets like that, 'twould be hellish for him.
Cat would tell Torr, then Brodie would never hear the end of it.
He was still unsure about their explosion of passion. Just because he still craved her with a fiery lust did not mean she was trustworthy. Hell, she might still marry the whoreson earl.
As for Torr and Gavin, they were the nosiest men he'd ever met. Of course, they had all known each other since they were lads, and they'd never kept secrets from one another. But he had to keep that one.
"So, Margaret was Wilona in truth?" Torr asked.
"Apparently. Gavin will rub my face in it."
"Aye." Torr smiled.
Someone yelled in a distant room, the sound echoing down the corridor.
"What's going on? Who is that?" Brodie asked, concerned.
Torr hurried to the door and opened it.
The yell resounded again.
"'Tis Finnian!" Torr said. "Stay in bed. I'll see what's going on."