“And the Highlander? Who’s he?”
“The Earl of Sinclair and Orkney’s grandson. His name is Liam Mackay.”
“You called him your husband, but he seems rather uncertain about that title.”
“He’s—I’m—” Elene stumbled over her words. “He’s promised to take me to Scotland. He says Johan, Katryne, and I can start new lives among his people. But while we’re still in Orkney, it seems best to say I’m traveling with my husband. Naught untoward has happened.”
“Yet. The way the two of you look at one another is likely to send the entire village up in flames.”
Elene flinched, causing Ilka’s brow to furrow. “We were in Dingieshowe a few days ago. Gunter was there and saw me. Liam, the chieftain, and the man’s wife hid me. When Gunter didn’t get what he wanted, he lit their croft on fire and nearly burned Ninian, Sonneta, and me alive. They lost their home because of me.”
“Ninian and Sonneta?” Ilka’s face reflected her sadness. “They are good people. She’s my second cousin once removed.”
“I had no idea. She never said we’re family. She knew my surname.”
“I don’t know why she didn’t say aught, but it doesn’t surprise me she helped you and your Highlander. Ninian has always been on good terms with the Mackays and Sinclairs, and you’re my grandniece. Between those two things, they wouldn’t consider turning you away. I will visit them and take them what I can.” Ilka held a drying linen up for Elene as she stepped out of the tub. Elene toweled herself dry before wrapping it around her hair. Ilka handed her the dry clothes, which Elene rushed to don. With a comb in hand, Elene worked the tangles from her hair as she listened to Ilka tell Katryne to take the next bath.
“It’s clear you desire one another, but you’re not married. The way he speaks to you, it’s clear the man loves you. But you didn’t say aught about being his wife once you’re in Scotland.”
“I don’t know that he loves me, Auntie. But we’re fond of one another.”
“Fond,” Ilka snorted. “If you say so. You love him as much as he loves you. I’m not so old that I can’t see that.”
“He’s Clan Mackay’s tánaiste, and I’m a farmer’s daughter from a tiny northern isle. He doesn’t strike me as a man to take a mistress. We are naught but a passing fancy to each other.”
“You can tell yourself that lie to protect your heart, but we both know it isn’t true.”
“Whether I’m right or wrong matters little, until I know Katryne and Johan are safe in Scotland. That’s what matters most. I don’t trust Gunter not to abuse them or sell them like he threatened to do to me.”
“The Norse don’t have thralls anymore,” Ilka argued.
“He’s the king’s brother. He can do as he pleases.” Elene glanced at Katryne, who hummed to herself as she bathed. “He might sell them or kill them, but he won’t keep them as his stepchildren now. And if he doesn’t kill us all, then he’ll most certainly sell me as a bed slave. Christian or not, he holds a grudge.”
A knock cut their conversation short. Ilka opened the door a crack, protecting Katryne’s privacy. Liam turned his back but spoke over his shoulder.
“Elene, the chieftain wishes to see us. Are you up to it?”
“Yes. I feel much better now.”
“No,” Ilka cut in. “Donovan can wait until after Elene’s eaten. She may feel perkier, but she needs some sustenance. I’m guessing you and your men do, too. Katryne, don’t dawdle, lass.”
Elene smiled as Liam turned his head. She nodded, hoping he saw her. She hurried to help her sister finish her bath. Once Johan was in the tub and Katryne was presentable, the Highlanders entered. Ilka shooed them to spots around her table, bowls already placed before them. Smelling the pottage, Johan was quick to bathe. Soon the Highlanders and Elene, along with her siblings, were eating the hearty stew. Elene didn’t realize how famished she was until Liam filled her bowl a third time. She grinned, then made her way through most of her extra serving.
“Ilka.” A man’s voice sounded on the other side of the door.
“Enter, Donovan.” A blond man bearing a striking resemblance to Elene and her siblings entered. Liam aimed to appear relaxed, but his hand slid to the dirk in his right boot. He hadn’t met the man yet, only heard that the chieftain wished to see them. It surprised him how young this chieftain was. Liam didn’t recall ever meeting him during his many previous visits, but then he’d never been to Isbister before.
Elene rose from her seat and hurried to the chieftain, who opened his arms to her. She smiled as they embraced. The man dropped a kiss on Elene’s head as he rubbed her arms. Liam watched. He waited for the jealousy, but it never came. Instead, hurt clamped his heart as he waited for Elene to remember him. He wondered if the man was married and if it would be safer for Elene to remain with someone who she clearly trusted. It was obvious the man was strong enough to protect her. The sword he wore strapped to his back wasn’t for show.
“Don, I’d like you to meet my husband, Liam.” Elene wrapped her arm around the chieftain’s arm and pulled him to the table. Liam rose, his gaze locked with Elene’s. When she beamed at him and released Donovan’s arm to stand next to him, Liam extended his arm to the young chieftain. The Orcadian assessed Liam, but didn’t hesitate to grasp forearms in a warrior’s handshake.
“You didn’t invite me to your wedding. You promised you would.” There was a teasing lilt to Donovan’s voice that eased some of the tightness in Liam’s chest.
“We were children.”
“And you swore you’d never marry. You promised to invite me if hell froze, and you wed.”
“It was a quiet affair. I wasn’t interested in a large feast.” Elene wrapped her arms around Liam’s middle, praying he would play along. As he pulled her against his side and stroked her shoulder, she knew she never should have worried Liam would give them away. He’d been the one to suggest they pretend to be married in the first place. The more she called him her husband, the more she wished it could be true.
