Page 23 of Bond of a Bewitched Highlander

Once in the upper corridor, he motioned toward a curtained room at the end.

She went inside the tiny, stinky room and waited. Would he leave and return to his kitchen? She did not need to relieve herself now, for she had done so beside the trail, in the bushes.

She peeped out, but Vesey remained in the corridor, waiting for her. Damn the man.

"Is everything alright, m'lady?" he called after a few minutes.

"Aye." She emerged, and he motioned her into the chamber.

A platter of food and wine awaited her on the table, the gamey, onion-heavy scent of the rabbit stew turning her stomach. A small fire burned in the hearth. He must have lit it while she was downstairs searching for an escape route.

"Good night, m'lady."

When she turned around, Vesey was closing the door on his way out. Something clicked.

"Wait! Vesey!" He hadn't just locked her in, had he?

She hastened to the door, turned the knob, and pulled. The door wouldn't budge.

"Vesey?"

No response.

She turned the knob harder and shook the door. Locked.

"Bollocks!" she growled.

Obviously, Talnaroch had ordered him to lock her in. "Knaves and bastards, the lot of them."

She rushed to the window to peer out. 'Twas the back side of the castle, and she couldn't see the ocean from here. 'Twas growing darker. They would set sail soon!

"I must hurry," she breathed.

When would Talnaroch and his men climb onto their galleys? Were they already?

She unlatched the windowpanes and opened them inward. 'Twas far too high to jump. Sheets. She yanked the moth-eaten wool blanket from the bed, but 'twas the only bed linen on the ancient mattress. No sheets she might tie together.

Her movements rushed and jerky, she closed the windows so that no one outside would notice she was trying to escape.

She took out her smallest, thinnest knife, the sgian achlais from her underarm sheath and poked it into the door's large keyhole, then twisted. Something inside clattered a bit. 'Twas an old warded lock.

"Oh, release," she whispered.

She twisted the blade and jiggled it up and down. The lock gave a dull click.

"Aye," she breathed and opened the door. After peering into the quiet, shadowy corridor, she crept out, then closed the door behind her. Hopefully, Vesey wouldn't notice her absence right away.

Silence reigned as she descended the steps to the warm great hall. The fire burned in the hearth, but no one remained here. She rushed to the entry door, opened it a crack, and looked out. A guard sauntered away, and she ducked back inside.

A moment later, she checked again. No one about now. She pulled the cloak's hood over her head and descended the steps. She hid behind a shrubby bush and listened. 'Twas hard to hear anything over the wind.

When she glanced out, no people were in evidence.

She crouched, trotted to the edge of the cliff, then looked over. Two sizable galleys were beached below in the torchlight. The men were boarding!

"Blast!" she hissed. She had to get on board one of them. They were going now to kidnap the selkies.

After finding the path, she held her skirts off her boots in one hand and scrambled down the cliff's steep and treacherous path. 'Twas almost dark now, and she prayed her black cloak would help conceal her. The men were already pushing one of the galleys into the water—the one Talnaroch stood on, yelling commands.