Page 30 of Highlander’s Dangerous Love

9

Asking around the village had proved fruitless. Gemma knew she could not be quite so obvious in her inquiries, as she did not want to raise suspicion, but that was even more maddening. Whenever she went to the castle for chores, or when her mother forced her to visit with Bryce, she listened closely to all whispered conversations and lingered longer than was proper at doorways. Drastic action would have to be taken, she decided. And perhaps…in certain instances, her status as being betrothed to Bryce would give her some protection.

It was midmorning when she decided this was the best time to do it. Everyone was occupied with their duties. Bryce and his father were out making their rounds with tenants, the guard was practicing their drills in the meadow, and the ladies were doing laundry not far from them. Gemma had been assigned to kitchen duty. As they waited for the bread to rise a first time, she gave a lame excuse that she’d left something in the room they’d taken her to after she fainted at the betrothal dinner. The few people she saw in the castle did not give her so much as a second glance, which was good. She could ill afford to be found out in this way. Still, Gemma's heart raced as she crept down the dimly lit hallway of the castle, careful not to make a sound. She knew the risk she was taking, sneaking into the laird's private study, but she had to find any clue she could as to where Colin had gone.

As she approached the door to the study, she paused for a moment to listen for any sounds. When she heard nothing, she carefully turned the handle and slipped inside. The room was dark, with only a few candles burning on the desk. She’d never been in this room before, but it was unremarkable. It looked like what she expected the study of a Scottish laird to look like — stone walls covered by centuries-old tapestries, a large fireplace across from the desk with two faded, upholstered chairs across from it, and bookcases lined with all manner of books and trinkets.

Gemma quickly began searching through the papers and books on the desk, hoping to find any mention of Colin's whereabouts. She felt a pang of guilt for invading the laird's privacy, but she pushed the feeling aside. This was for Colin, and she would do anything to find him. The laird himself had always been kind to her, and she’d never heard a bad word from his mouth. Bryce was…simply not like him.

Just as Gemma was about to step out of the study, she heard footsteps outside the door. Her heart leapt into her throat as she realized that she had been discovered.

She looked around frantically for a place to hide and spotted a small closet in the corner of the room. Without hesitation, she dashed inside and closed the door behind her, hoping that she wouldn't be found. She could hear the laird's footsteps growing louder as he approached the door to the study. Her heart raced as she tried to steady her breathing, praying that he wouldn’t find her.

The door creaked open and the laird stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room. Gemma could hear him muttering to himself about the disarray of the desk, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying. Her hands anxiously scrunched the fabric of her skirts, hoping he would not come all the way over to the closet. Her mind raced with thoughts of what would happen if he did. Would he accuse her of stealing? If he did, perhaps she could tell a convincing tale that Bryce had sent her there to find something…

To her relief, the laird simply grunted and turned to leave the room. Gemma let out a sigh of relief as she heard the door close behind him. She waited a few moments to make sure that he was truly gone before stepping out of the closet. Her heart was still racing, but she knew that she had to stay focused on her mission to find Colin. There had been nothing on the desk, unfortunately, and there was nothing else she felt like looking at again. That had already been too close a call, and she could not risk it again for a while.

She returned back to the kitchen with a rueful smile on her face, reporting that perhaps she’d taken it home and forgotten. The rest of the afternoon passed as many others had — with baking and gossip, of which she’d be sure to take the morsels back to Muriel. When the day was over, she was more than happy to return to the familiarity of her own home.

As Gemma tightened her shawl around her shoulders, shielding herself from the cool autumn air of the Scottish highlands, she felt something…pulling at her, like there was an invisible string attached to her head and someone was pulling on it. That was when she noticed an old woman standing on the edge of the keep, staring at her intently. She was a bit ragged looking, and Gemma did not recognize her, but something about the old woman’s gaze was intriguing. When she stepped forward to approach her, the woman ran away with surprising speed.

“Hey!” Gemma called, running after her out of the keep.

Thankfully no one else seemed to notice or care. But Gemma had never seen this woman before, and she was looking at her so intently, she thought it had to mean something.

This merry chase led her further away from the castle, closer to the cliffs near the seaside. Gemma made sure to stay a respectable distance away, lest the woman try to push her over the edge for some ungodly reason. When the woman finally stopped, Gemma was thoroughly intrigued, and perhaps a little annoyed.

“Can I help you, ma’am? I thought ye were lookin at me, or for me, by the keep.”

The old woman smiled, revealing a mouthful of crooked teeth.

“Aye, lass,” she said. “I have information for ye.”

“Information?” Gemma repeated. “May I ask…who ye are?”

“All ye need tae ken is that I am old, an’ I see lots of things. So I have information. About a man,” the old woman said. “A handsome blacksmith who’s not like other men.”

Gemma raised an eyebrow, wondering what this could possibly mean.

“And why are ye telling me this?”

“Because ye seem like the kind of lass who would appreciate a good man,” the old woman replied. “And this one is more than good. He’s special, he is.”

Gemma felt a strange sense of excitement wash over her. Could she be…talking about Colin?

“Where can I find him?” she asked eagerly.

The old woman cackled, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Ah, lass, that's the question, isn’t it? Ye’ll have to find him yourself. But Ill give ye a clue. He’s in the glen, down by the river. Look for the forge, and ye’ll find him there.”

“I…what river? What forge? An’...how did ye ken I’d be lookin’ for someone?” she asked.

“I was at yer betrothal feast. I saw that look in yer eye, right ‘afore ye fainted.”

Gemma was utterly confused. She thought she’d spoken to everyone at the feast, like she was required, but somehow she’d missed this interesting old woman.

“Who are ye?”