The solider was quick to backtrack, shaking his head furiously. “N-no, my lord.”
“Good.” Bowen leaned in, his eyes glinting like steel under frost. “Because the next stage of this plan requires precision. Subtlety. Intelligence. All things my men,” he gestured at the corpses, “seem to lack.”
He turned away again, his cloak sweeping behind him like a shadow breaking free from the trees.
“MacLeod thinks himself untouchable,” Bowen said. “Protected by his clan, his walls, his reputation. But every fortress has a weakness.”
His gaze lifted toward the distant glow on the horizon—the faint golden flicker that was Brochel Castle.
“And he’s foolish enough,” Bowen said, “to keep his weakness in his bed.”
Elsie Montgomery. His sweetheart. That naïve, careless girl. So easy to manipulate. So easy to steal—if done differently this time.
Bowen exhaled slowly, letting the cold Highland air fill his lungs.
“This time,” he said, brushing a speck of dirt from his glove, “I will take back control. I will remove the girl myself. And MacLeod will never see me coming.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Clouds pressed low over Brochel Castle, turning the afternoon light pale and soft, as though the world had been dipped in silver. Elsie stood by the window in her chambers, her fingers trembling ever so slightly as she broke the wax seal on the letter addressed in her sister’s familiar looping hand.
Selene.
Just seeing her name stole Elsie’s breath.
She unfolded the parchment, her eyes scanning each line, her heart aching at every word.
My dearest Elsie,
Word has finally reached me of your whereabouts, though Lord above, I still do not understand how or why you were taken sofar north. I ken from your letter that you are alive and under the protection of a Highland laird.
But Elsie, are you truly safe?
Every night since you vanished, I have lain. To know you are in the Highlands, so wild, distant, so far beyond my reach, terrifies me more than not knowing ever did. You have always been brave, my sweet sister, but bravery does not soften the world’s cruelty.
I miss you so terribly. The house feels wrong without your laughter haunting the halls. I find myself speaking aloud to you, only to remember you cannot answer. I keep your shawl near me, as foolish as that sounds, because it still smells of you.
Write to me again, Elsie. Please. Tell me more about who this laird is, whether he treats you well, and when you can come home. Even if you cannot return yet, tell me when, tell me how, and I will be there waiting with open arms.
You are not forgotten. You are not abandoned. You are not alone, even if the mountains surround you instead of me.
I will come for you the moment you call for me.
With all my love,
Selene
A tear slipped down Elsie’s cheek before she could stop it. She missed her sister with an ache that had become constant, like a bruise under her ribs that never fully faded.
Footsteps sounded behind her, but she didn’t turn.
“Another letter?” Halvard’s voice rumbled gently.
Elsie wiped her cheek quickly before facing him. “It’s from Selene. She worries…”
Halvard nodded, though something tightened in his jaw. “A good sister would.”
Elsie took a steadying breath, but it trembled through her, the air hardly sufficient. “Halvard… when will we go back to England? Everyone is gone now. You said once the weather cleared I could go back.”
