“Then what bothers you? I see something has upset you terribly,” Grandsire said.
Everyone in the great hall stopped what they were doing to watch what was unraveling in front of them. Aunt Kyla pointed to a group of bairns nearby and said, “Elizabeth, get the wee ones away.” Her sister rushed to do her bidding.
Els’s mother and father came down from the tower room, probably concerned by the change in noise. But when they caught sight of Alex, they stood back. Everyone trusted the wisdom of the eldest member of the clan.
Once he was close enough, Grandsire positioned a chair next to Els so he could look Joya in the eye as he spoke to her. “Lass, no one will hurt you here, nor will we judge you. You’re in the Grant keep, and the English will not…”
Joya cut him off. “You think I fear the English?” she asked, her tone dark. “I care naught about the hedgeborn lymmers.” Els was surprised to see tears on her lashes. “The other one. He’s the one who hurt me without touching me, and I hate him for it.”
Els took her hand. “Joya, who do you hate?”
But she didn’t answer. She just sat there, staring at the flames, her gaze far off.
“Are you hungry?” Grandsire asked softly. “We’ll find you some bread.”
She nodded, and tears slid down her cheeks as she said, “Please. And something to drink.”
Grandsire turned to Aunt Kyla, who was still hovering close to him as one of the sisters oft did. “Bread, warm goat’s milk, a tub bath, then find her a strong dose of our water of life. She needs sleep.” Aunt Kyla nodded, her mouth pressed into a concerned line, and then headed to the kitchens.
“Joya, what happened?” Els pressed.
“For now, we must let her rest,” Grandsire said. “We have no idea what she’s been through, and there’s no need for us to know at the moment.”
Els’s mother, Gracie, approached them. “Joya, I’m going to fix a warm bath for you. I’ll help you. Kyla is fetching you some food, so you have some bread and ale while we ready it. Does that please you?”
Joya nodded. Els felt a surge of gratitude for his mother and her soothing ways. “Els, carry her abovestairs, and Kyla and I will help her.”
But when he stood up to do her bidding, Joya fell against him, grabbing his forearm and saying, “Do no’ leave me, Els. Please do no’ leave me. You must help me go back. I’ll sleep for one night, but then I must find him.”
Him. Him, who? Was she speaking of the person who’d hurt her? The sudden need to hurt any bastard who’d hurt Joya consumed him. He’d find out who it was.
“Joya, Grandsire’s right. You can tell me what happened later. Now you must rest. You’ll not be left alone. This is my mother, Gracie, and my aunt Kyla just slipped away to the kitchen. They’ll help you in the bath. Won’t the warm water feel nice?”
Her grip eased and she nodded, a whimper escaping her lips. Hell, but he’d like to find the man who’d hurt her and make him pay.
Chapter Sixteen
Alex rides to Ayr to save wee John, his first great-grandbairn, kidnapped by an evil sheriff…
The wait was intolerable.
It was the end of the second day and they’d still heard nothing from Els or from Grant Castle. Alasdair was going tolose his mind if something didn’t happen soon. His wound was healing, and he seemed to have escaped the fever, but the pain in his leg continued.
But that leg pain was inconsequential compared to the pain in his heart whenever he thought about his son. Even worse was the suffering of his sweet Emmalin, who’d taken to cuddling Ailith constantly, and he couldn’t fault her. He wished to do the same with both of them.
The door flew open, and Gaufried raced over to where they sat by the hearth. “Visitors from Grant land. About one hundred if I were to guess.”
Dyna came in from outside and said, “Alasdair, you need to come outside to witness this.”
Emmalin gave Ailith a squeeze before handing her to Bessie with a reluctant sigh. Alasdair grabbed a shawl for her, arranged it over her shoulders, and they stepped outside together, hand in hand. Gaufried had already assigned ten guards to protect the entrance to the keep.
On their way across the courtyard, Alasdair squeezed Emmalin’s hand, hoping they would finally get some good news. When they arrived at the curtain wall, he moved his hand to her back and ushered her up the staircase so they could see what the guards saw. Dyna followed them. Together, the three of them peered out over MacLintock land on the other side of the moat, the scene such that Alasdair wrapped his arms around Emmalin. In the front of the Grant warriors, resplendent in their red plaids, rode Alick, holding the Grant banner high as he approached.
But next to him?
Nothing could have prepared Alasdair for the vision of his grandfather riding his own horse again. He hadn’t done it in a while, though he’d attempted many times. He sat tall, his pridein his Grant warriors evident in his posture as he came across the bridge behind Alick.
“Oh, Alasdair,” Emmalin said, giving him her first real smile in days. “Your grandsire looks wonderful. They must have an idea on how to do this exchange.”
