And perhaps, if she were completely honest with herself, care for far more than she intended. Having her life threatened was onematter on its own, but feeling her heart at risk of escaping its cage made her far more anxious than she cared to admit.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The morning mist still clung to the hills when Eleanor slipped out of the castle by the kitchen door. The great hall had been noisy at breakfast, full of arguments over tenants, cattle, and repairs to the northern border. She had endured as much of it as she could before escaping into the cool air.
Callum had not stopped her when she had stood to leave, making her wonder if his mind was still occupied with the incident from the day before. They had not said much to each other when he had walked her to her chambers. They had simply greeted each other over breakfast, and that had been that.
She needed some solitude to quiet her mind.
Castle Fraser was always quiet in the morning, something that she appreciated above the noise and bustle of Edinburgh.
She liked the solitude at the castle. No servants hovered, nobody expected her to be at a certain place at a certain time. Therewas nothing for her to do besides keep to herself and attempt to unravel the mysteries regarding her brother.
Choosing a path that led past the stables and to the fields below, Eleanor hummed as she tried to push Callum from her mind. The path wound beside the curtain wall and then descended toward the lower grazing fields. A flock of sheep dotted the hillside, pale shapes against the green. Their bleating drifted on the breeze, bringing a calm to her mind that she had yearned to feel.
Andrew is alive. I just ken it.
She felt the breeze on her face and took a deep breath as she walked. Despite the doubt that she had seen in his eyes, she could feel in her heart that her brother was still alive. Nothing and no one would convince her otherwise until she knew for sure what had happened to him.
Halfway down the slope, a sharper cry caught her attention.
“Maaaaaaa…” It was low and drawn out, making her pause in her tracks. The sound came again, high, frantic, and unmistakably young. “Maaaa…”
“Hello?” she called out, feeling foolish the moment the word left her mouth. She could hear it was a lamb, but she had responded as if it could understand her.
The cry answered from somewhere below the path. “Maaaa…”
Carefully, she stepped off the trail and pushed through a patch of heather. The ground was damp from last night’s rain. Her boots sank into soft earth as she descended a narrow incline toward a shallow ravine.
At the bottom of the ravine stood a tiny lamb, no larger than a dog, trapped between two rocks. Its wool was muddy, one ear bent awkwardly, and its dark eyes were wide with distress as it bleated more pitifully this time.
“Oh, you poor thing.” Eleanor breathed as she raised a hand to her chest.
The lamb bleated indignantly as she approached, hanging its head while still trying to escape its stone prison.
Eleanor crouched and reached for it, her boots slipping slightly in the mud.
The animal immediately jerked away, wedging itself deeper between the stones.
“That is entirely unhelpful,” she informed it with the patience of a school marm.
She slid down a little closer, reaching out as she felt her cloak and dress damped with the mud beneath her body. Another attempt earned her a kick of surprisingly determined little hooves. The lamb’s resistance might have been amusing if it had not looked so frightened.
“If you would only cooperate…” Eleanor breathed, feeling her boots begin to slip a little faster as she slid down the embankment. With a startled gasp, Eleanor lost her balance and landed squarely in the mud. Cold water soaked through her skirts as she landed in a puddle beside the lamb.
The lamb stared at her, apparently unimpressed by her rescue attempts.
“Do not look so smug,” she muttered.
A deep chuckle sounded above her.
Eleanor froze. She turned to find Callum standing at the edge of the ravine. The laird’s broad shoulders filled the space between two wind-bent pines, and amusement lit his eyes far too openly. “I see ye’ve made a friend,” he teased.
Heat rushed to her cheeks. “I am rescuing it.” She defended herself as she pulled her muddied hands up and attempted to stand.
“Aye, I can see that. Though from where I’m standing, it appears that ye and the lamb now need savin’.”
She rose as gracefully as her mud-soaked skirts allowed. “If you are here only to laugh, you may leave,” she said irritably. Had he been following her? How had he known where she was headed?
