Duncan felt his jaw tighten. “That is nae?—”
“And pretending otherwise is nae helping anyone,” she continued firmly.
“I am nae pretending anything.”
“Ye absolutely are.”
Duncan glanced toward Iain as though expecting support. The captain merely shrugged.
“She has a point,” he said mildly.
Duncan stared at him. “Ye as well?”
Iain took another slow drink from his mug before setting it down with deliberate calm.
“I suspected it the moment ye brought her here.”
Duncan frowned. “Suspected what?”
Iain leaned back in his chair, watching him with that infuriatingly knowing expression. “That there was something more than her healing.”
Catriona made a small triumphant sound. “Exactly.”
Duncan’s patience thinned. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, thunder cracked loudly outside. The sound rolled across the hall like a cannon shot, rattling faintly through the stone walls. Duncan’s head snapped toward the tall windows. Rain lashed against the glass now, the storm fully broken across the hills.
For a single moment he stood perfectly still, then he was on his feet. The chair behind him scraped sharply across the floor as he pushed it aside.
“Duncan—” Catriona began.
But he was already moving. He did not explain, nor did he wait. He crossed the hall in long strides, barely aware of the startled looks from the council members as he passed. The heavy doors groaned as he shoved them open, the roar of wind and rain rushing instantly into the hall.
“Where are ye going tae look for her?” Iain called after him.
Duncan did not answer. He did not know. He only knew that she was not there, and that the storm outside was growing worse by the moment.
Before anyone could rise to follow him, he had already disappeared into the rain.
The rain had grown mercilessly colder. It fell steadily through the branches of the oak, dripping in relentless drops that found their way through the shelter of the leaves. Elaina stood with her shoulder against the rough bark, with her arms wrapped tightly around herself and her breath coming in small clouds of mist in the chilled air.
Her skirts were soaked through. The damp fabric clung uncomfortably to her legs, and the mud that trapped her boot had grown heavier with every passing minute.
She had tried several more times to free herself. Each attempt had ended the same way, with the stubborn root refusing to yield and the mud tightening its hold around her foot.
Now she had stopped struggling. It wasted too much energy. Instead, she waited, shivering as the wind swept through the clearing and the rain slid down the back of her neck.
She wondered if she would remain there all night. The thought was not entirely impossible. The castle lights were hiddenbehind the curtain of rain now, and the storm had swallowed most of the familiar sounds of the grounds.
No one would think to look for her there.
Another shiver ran through her. She shifted slightly, trying to ease the pressure of the root against her ankle. Then, she saw something move in the distance. At first, she thought it was only the shifting of the branches in the wind, but then she saw it again.
A figure.
Someone was moving quickly through the rain toward the clearing. Elaina straightened instinctively. The man was little more than a dark shape at first, cutting through the storm with determined strides. The rain poured off him in sheets. As he came closer, the faint light from the sky caught the outline of his shoulders.
Duncan.
By the time he reached the tree, he was completely drenched. Rain had soaked through his shirt entirely, and the dark fabric was clinging tightly to his chest and arms. The wet cloth traced every line of muscle beneath it. The water was running in thin streams down his sleeves.
