Elizabet nodded.
“I used to live here.”
The infamous Seana.
She was quite lovely, and Elizabet felt a terrible jolt of jealousy, despite that she realized it was silly.
The woman’s kind green eyes studied her.
And it occurred to Elizabet to be concerned. The last thing she needed was for Seana to go back to her husband and reveal their hiding place.
She took a deep breath and said, “My name is Elizabet.”
The woman’s brows lifted only slightly, and she nodded, as though she wasn’t entirely surprised by the revelation. She peered in, looking about the room, asthough expecting to find someone else, and then her gaze returned to Elizabet.
“I hope you will forgive us for using your home,” Elizabet offered.
Seana’s brows lifted higher. “Us?”
Elizabet nodded. “Broc... and I.”
“Is he here?” she asked somewhat hesitantly.
“Not at the moment,” Elizabet replied. “He went to get… food.”
Seana nodded. “And you are alone?”
Elizabet smiled. “Not entirely... I have my dog.”
“I see.” But her face screwed with obvious confusion. “So you aren’t being held against your will?” she asked Elizabet.
“Nay! Of course not!”
There was silence.
“Broc has been kind enough to help me,” Elizabet assured her, not liking the expression on Seana’s face. It left her feeling uneasy and somehow defensive of Broc.
Seana nodded. “That would indeed be our Broc.”
“’Tis a long story,” Elizabet said, “though I suppose we owe you an explanation, since we are using your home.”
Seana said nothing, merely looked at her, and Elizabet felt compelled to tell her about Tomas, his attempt to kill her, her need to hide from him until the truth could be discovered. By the time Elizabet had finished her tale, they were both seated at the little table.
Seana reached out to grasp her hand, startling her with the gesture. “And what of your brother?” she asked Elizabet.
Elizabet shrugged. “He doesn’t know where I am yet. Broc hasn’t had the opportunity to speak with him, though he did speak to Piers’ wife.”
Seana frowned. “Meghan?”
“Aye. Do you not like her?”
Seana smiled and assured her without pause, “Nay, I love her.”
Elizabet returned the smile, feeling as though mayhap she had found a friend.
“I take it she doesn’t know you are here, either?”
“Broc thought it best he speak directly with Piers, and Piers, as yet, has not returned.”
