Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The ride back to Castle Fraser was far quieter than the journey there.
Eleanor barely noticed the passing landscape as she thought of the night before.
They had not said much to each other, and the encounter had left her wondering where they now stood in their arrangement.
She had wanted him to touch her; there was no denying that.
She had enjoyed it as much as she had imagined she would.
But what does it mean now?
Her eyes glanced over the thick muscles of his back as he rode ahead of her.
They had come to find Andrew, but had left with more than she had bargained for, along with the defeat of not finding him.
The disappointment sat heavily upon her chest. The ruins had been empty with no sign or trace of Andrew.
Ahead of her, Callum remained unusually silent. His jaw had been clenched for most of the journey, and she could tell his thoughts were working furiously behind his calm exterior. Was he thinking of the same things that she was, or were his thoughts elsewhere?
By the time the castle came into view, the sky had darkened with gathering clouds once again. It had only let up in the morning, long enough for them to dare ride back.
The moment they rode into the courtyard, one of the servants hurried toward them. “Me Laird!”
Callum swung down from his horse without hesitation. “What is it?”
“Hamish has been askin' after ye both all afternoon. He is waitin’ in the study,” the maid huffed breathlessly.
Eleanor’s head snapped up, and Callum’s expression hardened immediately.
Without a word, he handed his reins to a stable boy and strode toward the castle.
Eleanor hurried after him, picking up her muddied hem as she ran.
What will happen now?
Would Hamish finally confess to his involvement, or had something else occurred in Callum’s absence? Something told her he already suspected what she was beginning to suspect herself.
They made their way through the castle and directly toward the study. The study door burst open beneath Callum’s hand.
Hamish, who had been seated comfortably beside the fire with a mug of ale, nearly spilled it all over himself. “Me Laird!” he exclaimed. “Ye look as though ye have ridden through a war.”
Callum closed the door behind them with a loud bang, seemingly not caring if anyone heard the altercation. “Did ye write those notes?” Callum demanded without hesitation.
The older man’s eyes widened, and for a moment he simply stared. Gone was the menacing look, and instead, he looked as if he had seen a ghost until his shoulders finally sagged. “Ah.” He sighed heavily.
Eleanor felt her breath catch.
This is it.
Hamish glanced between them and sighed heavily. “Aye, it was me.”
The single word struck the room like a stone.
She could not believe what she was hearing. Why would Hamish give up so easily when he had put in so much effort to lead them away?
Callum took a threatening step forward, clenching his fists at his sides. “It was ye who sent Eleanor to the ruins? Why would ye do such a thin’?”
Hamish immediately held up both hands. “Wait just a moment, me laird…”
“Do ye have any notion what could have happened to her if she had gone alone?” Callum demanded, not caring if he cut the man off.
The older man blinked. “I was only tryin’ to help.”
“By lurin’ her to an abandoned ruin with an anonymous message?” Callum’s voice was dark and threatening.
Eleanor had never seen Callum quite this angry, and it made her take a step back. The firelight danced across his features, making him look every bit the Highland laird his enemies feared.
Hamish looked genuinely startled. “I never meant any harm.”
“Then explain,” Callum barked, making the man jump slightly in his seat.
Hamish set down his glass on the table beside his chair. Several moments passed before he spoke. “A few months before Andrew disappeared, we shared a drink together after a council meetin’,”
Eleanor's heart lurched, and Hamish looked toward her. “He spoke of ye often, lass.”
Her throat tightened. “He did?”
“Aye,” Hamish nodded, and a faint smile touched his lips. “He was proud of ye.”
Eleanor looked away quickly.
Hamish continued, but Hamish continued. “He told me stories from yer childhood. One of them involved some old ruins beside a loch where the two of ye used to spend entire summers causin’ trouble."
Despite everything, a small smile tugged at her lips.
That sounds exactly like Andrew.
“When I realized that ye were his sister, I couldnae keep from lookin’ at ye. Ye are exactly as he described.” His voice caught a little, and Eleanor could not help but wonder if he was being sincere. He certainly spoke as if he had been a friend to Andrew.
“And ye thought he might be there?” Eleanor asked, turning back toward him.
“Aye.” Hamish nodded again.
Callum folded his arms and ran his tongue over his lips, still seeming as if he did not believe a word that the man was saying. “Enough to send secret notes?”
Hamish grimaced. “When I saw ye in the hall, it was clear that ye didnae trust me, lass. And I ken very well that ye still wonder if I wasnae involved in yer father’s death, me laird.” His eyes seemed to fill with sadness as he spoke.
Feeling her cheeks fill with color, Eleanor once again averted her gaze.
He was not wrong. She had been suspicious of him from the moment that she had laid eyes on him.
His gaze had been so intense that she had almost been frightened.
But it now seemed as if he had been recalling Andrew the entire time.
She felt slightly foolish for making a snap judgment about whether the man was telling the truth.
He continued. “I feared if I approached ye directly, ye would think I was merely another man tryin’ to interfere. Or worse, ye would think that I was somehow involved in his disappearance.”
“So ye decided to behave like a spy?” Callum asked dryly, still not swayed by the man’s words.
Hamish winced once again. “When ye put it that way, it sounds considerably more foolish, me Laird.”
“It was foolish,” Callum barked again.
“Aye, it was.” Hamish hung his head in shame. “But if I were not innocent, me Laird, would I have been waitin’ for ye here in the study? Would I have not denied everythin’ and made sure that I wasnae here when ye returned?”
Silence filled the room, then unexpectedly, Hamish looked toward Eleanor, his face filled with sorrow and regret, while his voice was sincere.
“I am sorry, lass. When I heard Andrew was missin', I kept thinkin' about that conversation. The ruins seemed important to him.” He shook his head. “I truly believed there was a chance he might be there if he was hidin’.”
Eleanor studied him; she saw no deception inside of him, only regret. “He isnae there,” she said quietly.
“Nay?” The older man's expression softened. “I am sorry for raisin' yer hopes.”
The room fell silent once more.
Callum finally exhaled through his nose, and the tension in his shoulders eased slightly. “Next time ye discover a clue,” he said firmly, “ye bring it to me.”
Hamish nodded immediately. “Aye, me Laird.”
“And ye certainly do not send secret messages to guests in me castle,” his voice was sharp, yet it lacked the conviction that had been there before.
“Understood,” Hamish answered with military precision.
Callum stared at him another moment before finally turning away.
The confrontation is over.
Eleanor let out a deep breath that she had not realized she had been holding. It had all seemed so sinister to her, yet it had only been an old man who had wanted to help in the best way that he knew how.
As Eleanor moved toward the door, Hamish spoke again. “Lass?” She paused. “If Andrew is alive, he will ken ye never stopped lookin' for him.” The words struck her harder than she expected, and for a moment, she could not speak until she offered him a nod. “Thank ye.”
As she stepped into the corridor, she felt Callum fall into step beside her.
Neither spoke immediately until Callum glanced down at her. “Ye alright?”
The simple question warmed her far more than it should have. “Aye,” she said, unable to think of anything more eloquent than that.
His gaze lingered on her face for a moment. “Good.”
For the first time since leaving the ruins, Eleanor felt some of the weight lift from her chest. Andrew was still missing. The mystery remained unsolved, but she was no longer facing it alone.