“Laird MacDonald has returned!” one boy shouted, darting forward to take the horse’s bridle.
Kenneth dismounted fluidly, then reached up and lifted Selene down as though she weighed nothing at all. His hands were firm, impersonal, and she felt only a fleeting brush of warmth before her feet touched the cobblestones. The assembled throng watched her with open curiosity – and a hint of suspicion.
Before Selene could fully regain her balance, a young woman rushed from beneath the covered walkway.
“Kenneth!” she called, breathlessly. “Ye’re back at last.” She looked him up and down. “And in one piece.”
Her gaze flicked to Selene, widening with surprise. “Who is this lass? Is she hurt?”
Kenneth stepped subtly between them, blocking his sister’s path with one broad arm. It appeared he was shielding her from Selene in a way that softened even his harsh features.
Dear Lord, he believes I am a spy and considers me a danger.
For all that, she was grateful that in her present state of dishevelment she had not been exposed to prying eyes or to his sister’s gaze. Even if it seemed he was protecting his sisterfrom her.
It was only now she paused to wonder if the trunk containing all her clothing had been rescued and brought along on the journey with them. How would she manage if she had nothing with which to clad that poor cold body of hers?
“Dinnae fash about this wee lass taenight, dear Maureen. Go back inside. I’ll see tae her comfort. Steward Johnnie will make a chamber ready fer her.”
The girl, Maureen, opened her mouth to speak, but Kenneth raised a hand. “We’ll speak on the morrow, sister. But, fer now, the Lady Selene requires rest.”
Maureen hesitated, her eyes lingering on Selene with a mixture of concern and curiosity. But with a small nod she obeyed, disappearing back into the hall.
Selene had observed the exchange between brother and sister with interest. It was clear to Selene that Laird Kenneth MacDonald was far more than a brother to Maureen. He acted like her guardian. Her shield. Possibly the only father figure she had known.
Within mere moments of Maureen’s departure another figure appeared. A tall, grey-haired man, dressed in the same plaid as Kenneth’s – which, by now, Selene recognized as belonging to Clan MacDonald.
“Me laird.” The man’s lean face lit up with a smile and his blue eyes sparkled. “Welcome home.”
“Indeed, Johnnie, it is good tae be back at Duntulm.” Kenneth responded. He nodded, indicating Selene. “This is Lady Selene Montgomery,” he said by way of introduction.
Kenneth turned to Selene. “Our steward, John MacDonald will ensure ye are comfortable this night.”
The steward bowed slightly from the waist. “At yer service, Laird Kenneth.”
“Situate the Englishwoman in the south chamber. Warm it and prepare a bath. I’ll question her after,” Kenneth ordered.
Selene bristled atthe Englishwoman, though she was hardly in a position to protest.
The tall steward nodded, glancing at her and offering a half smile. “I will instruct the chambermaids to prepare a chamber fer Lady Montgomery at once.”
She was grateful for the man at least affording her name and title. The steward hurried off as Kenneth took Selene’s arm, guiding her up the stairs and through the giant entryway leading into the keep.
She tugged her arm to free it from his grasp, but his fingers tightened. He frowned down at her making it painfully clear shecould not break free without a struggle. Gritting her teeth, she accompanied him without another word.
The castle’s interior swallowed her among cold stone and echoing corridors, the lingering scent of peat smoke clinging to the air. Her footsteps sounded small beside Kenneth’s heavy tread and that of his two soldiers following close behind them.
In moments a young maid appeared, smiling broadly at Kenneth.
She curtsied to him and glanced curiously at Selene. “The chamber is ready fer the lady in the south wing as you requested, me laird. The chambermaids are lighting the fire and the scullery maids will bring broth and bannocks once the lady is settled there.”
Kenneth released his grip on her arm. “Go with the maid, lass. She’ll guide ye tae yer quarters.” With that, he turned on his heel and disappeared along one of the nearby passageways nearby.
With the two soldiers escorting her, Selene followed the maid along a maze of corridors. After ascending a wide stone staircase, and traversing yet another passageway, they came to a halt outside a large, studded-timber door. The maid, wielding a giant key, unlocked the door and flung it wide.
Selena shivered as she entered. The chamber felt a trifle damp and, despite the fire crackling in the little hearth, there was a chill in the air. The room was small and simple, yet clean. It was furnished with a sturdy oak bed in one corner, a small tableand two timber chairs and, in front of the fire, a warm-looking, padded chair, with a rug and pillows tossed over it.
Several maids worked quickly, fussing around her like a flurry of sparrows, two of them preparing the bed with linen sheets and woven blankets.
