Page 17 of Trapped By the Exiled Bastard

Noah told them that this village was called Caldershore for the ocean inlet that pooled into a small saltwater loch nearby. Once, he told them, it had been a thriving business port, home to many market stalls and teeming with life. Since the business trade had moved closer to the centre of the clan lands and to busier ports further south, Caldershore had dried up, and its coin and life had gone with it.

Keir didn’t know how much of what Noah said was fact, but the remnants of vivacity he saw before him were nothing new. The people of the village looked tired and worn, many stalls and shops bare and abandoned, and the products that were on sale were clearly of low quality. A few staple stores survived, but this place was dwindling, and like so many villages Keir had seen that had been abandoned by their laird, this one would soon disappear beneath the waves.

Noah grimaced as they walked further into the marketplace and passed a group of children sitting listlessly at the side of the road, one of them coughing into a dirty rag. They looked up as the newcomers passed, but none of them even bothered to beg.

“Can we give them some coin?” Elin asked.

She did not sound surprised by their plight, simply… tired. Keir was about to agree, but before he did, Noah nodded and approached the children, giving them each a shiny silver piece. When he returned, Elin granted him one of her rare, bright smiles. Keir scowled slightly, not understanding why he was so annoyed but knowing that he was being ridiculous.

“Ye seem like ye’ve seen such sights before, Miss Elin,” Noah said, making it not quite a question.

Elin nodded. “I grew up in a place like this. Me home village of Bancraig was a place of ghosts already by the time I was born. The orphaned lassies, and there were many of us, were kept by a tough old spinster who had too much kindness and too little coin. She did her best, but we grew used tae havin’ nothin’. Everyone around us was the same, after all.”

Keir frowned at this revelation.

Their horses were secured at the front of the village, and in the time it had taken them to get dismounted and walk this far, Elin had barely said a word. Why was she chatting so freely with Noah now? Why was she revealing parts of her past so easily to him, when she had steadfastly refused to tell Keir anything since the moment they met?

“That place was at the edge of the Grant lands?” Noah asked.

“Aye. It was the kind of place where people lived and died without a smile. But as I got older, I got luckier—I’d catch the eye of a merchant who’d want me to join him on his journey, or a barkeep who wanted a lass tae attract his customers. So long as I did me work, I always had food and shelter, and I slowly made me way closer and closer tae the inner circle,” Elin explained.

Keir felt sick at the thought of these men taking advantage of a young woman in such a way. His fingers itched for his sword as though he could see them all right now, and he itched for violence in a way he struggled to bring under control.

“And that’s how ye met Grant? Eamon, I mean?” Noah pressed, his voice open and honest in its curiosity.

“It was. The old English merchant I was travelin’ with had taken it into his head tae take a bonny Scottish lass back as his mistress tae show off tae court. When we passed by Castle Grant, Eamon took a fancy tae me. He persuaded the merchant tae give me up, and soon he had me livin’ in me own wee house near the castle.” She smiled, though there was something behind her eyes as she did. “I ken what ye think, but he’s taken care of me.”

“So he took ye and made ye his mistress instead? And he didnae even bring ye intae the castle?” Keir snapped, unreasonably angry. “I suppose he couldnae, when ye were one of many. How can ye allow yerself tae be treated this way?”

Elin glared at him, and Noah gave him a look. Keir ignored them both, still fuming, and his fury only grew as Noah and Elin fell into another lighter conversation, acting as though they had forgotten him entirely.

Keir tried to tell himself that he didn’t care.

He couldn’t care.

So what if he kept saying the wrong thing every time he talked to Elin? So what if every word she said to him was spiteful or hurtful and he was just as bad in turn? And so what if she opened up to Noah, smiled at Noah, walked closely to Noah, and generally seemed to like him much better?

Why would Keir care about a thing like that?

After all, Elin clearly went where the coin and power was—-like so many women had to in this world. It was no wonder that she would prefer gentle, easygoing Noah with his respected name and high skills. Any woman would prefer that to a surly bastard with nothing to show for himself.

When he focused again, they’d stopped beside a farm shop and Noah was examining the produce in the window.

“I’m gonnae go in and try tae get a good deal for some of that grain,” Noah informed them. “Why dinnae the two of ye go ahead and find that needle and thread?”

“We’ll do that,” Keir said immediately. “Come on.”

Elin gave him a look, but he didn’t understand what she was trying to say with it. She nodded briefly, then the two of them set off down the path. Keir’s hand settled lightly on the small of Elin’s back, barely brushing her, but nonetheless firm in place. He tried to ignore its meaning even as he performed the action, but he knew what it would mean to anyone who was watching, and he had no intention of changing that.

Stay back, his hand warned. She’s mine.

But if Elin noticed, she did not react as they continued toward what came next.

8

They were directed to the fabric shop after asking several people for directions, and Elin found herself charmed by the little building. It was shabby but clean, the kind of shop she’d grown up around where the owner took pride in every little thing that they had. There would be no fancy clothes inside except for the pieces the tailor made to please themselves, but each piece that they managed to sell would be made with the kind of love and dedication that big-city tailors could never quite manage.

“Ye think they’ll have the thread ye need?” Keir asked as they pushed open the door. He had to stoop slightly to duck under the doorway. A bell rang upon them entering, and a man in his thirties, handsome and well-groomed in a way that contrasted with the rest of the village, was instantly in front of them.