Lorna spared the grandmotherly woman a leery glance, then hurried to help Frances and Hesther exit the carriage first. These two new members of the cast must be part of the re-enactment troupe as well.
Once on the ground, she looked up, and her knees threatened to buckle. Even through the blinding snow, she could make out a dark, towering structure. How the devil had they constructed such an elaborately realistic set out here without anyone knowing?
A large, forbidding keep stood tall and fearsome in the center of a high protective wall. A scattering of smaller buildings surrounded it. What wasn’t coated with ice and snow appeared to be stone that their artists had colored to look a weathered, faded gray. The mottling of the blocks was amazingly realistic.
She shook her head. None of this could be real. It had to be a movie set or something. There was no other logical explanation. But the more she saw, the more she doubted her logic. An ominous dread knotted in her middle, making it hard to breathe.
“Uhm…I need to use yer phone, please,” she said to Mrs. Thistlewick. “My cell phone is back at the shop serving as a hotspot till our Wi-Fi is installed proper. Or if I could use one of yer cells, that would be grand.”
The ruddy-cheeked woman’s mouth slowly dropped open before she turned to the young man wearing the furry mantle that made him resemble a woolly mammoth. “Lady Murdina said the child’s nursewasa mite odd.”
“I am not odd. These two need help, and I intend to see they get it.” Lorna squared off with Mrs. Thistlewick, ready to argue the point. If she concentrated on the wee ones, it kept her mind off her own worries. “Now, if ye would be so kind as to take them inside where it’s warm and get me to a phone, I would appreciate it. Neither of them has been properly cared for during this trip. I must notify the authorities.”
“Edmond! If ye let yer gran catch her death from this weather, I swear ye will sleep outside for a year and a day.” The shout came from farther down the bailey, near a smaller building built against the barrier wall. All Lorna could make out was a tall, shadowy form through the stormy grayness and blowing snow.
“Will ye come on, then?” Edmond the woolly mammoth begged. “Weather like this gives Sir Jasper a raging case of the red arse.” He gave her a pleading look, then bent down and placed himself nose to nose with the old woman. “Gran, go inside. I will bring them in.”
They did need to get inside. Neither Frances nor Hesther wore heavy enough clothing to stand out here in the storm. Both stood there hugging themselves, shivering and cowering from the wind. Lorna pulled them in close and wrapped her cloak around them, sheltering them as best she could. “Come on. Let’s get ye inside where it’s warm. I’ll find a phone soon as I can.”
Edmond cast a thankful glance to the heavens. “A fine idea for certain. Gran, take them while I help the lads with the trunks, aye?”
Mrs. Thistlewick toddled along beside them, holding her plaid to block the wind off her face. “A good decision ye made, lass. I dinna ken what thatphonething is ye want, but I am glad ye chose to come inside.” She offered a kindly smile. “My old bones canna abide this cold too long, but I am housekeeper here and have greeted every visitor to Thursa since our chieftain was a wean. Dinna fash yerself. I shall see that ye and the bairns are well taken care of.”
“Mrs. Thistlewick.” A rich, deep voice capable of drowning out the wind halted Lorna mid-step. “Did ye not trust the rest of us to usher our guests into the keep?”
“I told ye I wasna ready to hand over my duties,” the spunky matron replied. “Should ye not be tending to that woman ye sent for?”
“Mrs. Thistlewick.” The man’s tone became affectionately scolding. “Remember yesterday’s talk, aye?”
Lorna squinted from the depths of her hood and almost lost her balance. Hesther and Frances steadied her even though they peeped out from under her arms like frightened chicks. The man gently admonishing the elderly housekeeper made Edmond the woolly mammoth look like the runt of the litter. This hulking mountain of maleness was the epitome of the famed Viking raiders of old. His long, silvery blond hair snapped in the wind. The shadow of his short beard enhanced the strong cut of his jaw. A white-tipped fur rested across his impressively broad shoulders like a royal mantle. The man’s raw handsomeness made her stare and not care if he noticed or not.
He bent and propped his large hands on his knees, offering Frances a smile that seemed a bit sad. “Welcome to Thursa, young Frances. Yer mother and uncle are already inside getting settled in their rooms. Shall I take ye to them?”
The lad wrapped both arms tight around Lorna’s waist and buried his face against her.
“He is afraid of ye,” she said. The child’s fear demanded she be the brave one, even though she didn’t feel it. “Ye go ahead. I will see to them.” As the wee lad hugged her tighter, she jerked her chin toward the ominous castle that should not be there and forced a prim smile at the man. “Ye can tend to yer guests, aye? If Frances is willing, perhaps ye can get to know him later.” Surely, this could not be Lady Murdina’s earl?
The Highlander’s vivid blue eyes flared wide for a brief moment, then flexed to cutting, narrow slits. Without taking his gaze from hers, he motioned for their elderly escort to keep walking. “Into the keep with ye, Mrs. Thistlewick.”
The housekeeper gave Lorna a woeful shake of her head. “Aye, my chieftain. I shall await these wee ones. Dinna be too harsh with her, aye? Lady Murdina said the lass has yet to learn her place, but the wee laddie loves her dear, as ye can see.”
“Is that true?” The man’s sharp gaze bored into Lorna like a pair of lasers. The iciness of their blue hue laid open her soul.
Lorna stood tall. “If ye wish to scold me, can we do it somewhere out of the wind? It is cold out here, and these two are freezing.” She refused to be bullied or conned ever again. That was what had landed her wherever this was. She had let that damn Patrick manipulate her like dough. Never again.
The chieftain stood tall and dismissed them with an arrogant glance toward the entrance. “Inside wi’ ye. Then we speak.”
Chapter Three
Gunn Sinclair followedthe rebellious trio up the steps into the keep. Well, the lad and timid wee lassie were not rebellious, but the tall, comely woman who protected them most definitely was. Neither Lady Murdina nor her brother had mentioned difficulties regarding those serving them in the personal capacities of lady’s maid and nurse. Or, at least, he didn’t think they had. To be honest, he had not fully listened. However, he never doubted Mrs. Thistlewick’s word. The wily old housekeeper missed nothing.
“We will speak here,” he announced as soon as they stepped inside the entryway. He shouldered the heavy oak doors shut. The raging storm howled and battered at them, angry at being kept out.
The insolent lass, her boldness both intriguing and irritating, ignored him. Instead of properly giving him her full attention, she brushed the snow off the young lad, then dusted more of the same from the maid’s thin shoulders. She gently steered them through the arched entrance into the great hall and pointed them at the nearest blazing hearth. “Go get warm. I will join ye soon, aye?”
The two peered up at her with expressions that reminded him of lost pups in search of their mother. They both hesitated, as if afraid to leave her.
“If anyone bothers ye, sing out and I will come running,” she assured them with an encouraging nod. “Go on, now. I willna let anyone hurt ye. I promise.”
