Page 33 of Healing the Highland Sinner
“Nay. Somethin’s wrong,” she stated and frowned. She had sent Ellair out hours ago, believing Ciar’s men were going to meet him at the warehouse to watch his back. But when Ciar’s men returned to the compound about an hour ago, claiming they had never seen Ellair, Rosalind felt the first stirrings of fear.
“What if naethin’s wrong and he’s simply with a woman down on the docks?” Ciar offered without much conviction in his voice.“Or what if I was right about him and he’s with his master betrayin’ us right now?”
She turned and cast an eye at him. “I think ye ken that’s nae true.”
He frowned and took another bite of his apple, saying nothing. But Rosalind could tell by the tightness around his eyes and the set of his jaw that he didn’t believe what he’d said. Deep down, she knew Ciar respected Ellair.
“Have ye questioned yer men yet?” she growled. “Have ye found out what happened and why they didnae go with him?”
He shrugged. “They said they never saw him.”
“’Tis nae good enough.”
“Forgive me fer sayin’ so, but ye’re takin’ this all very hard. Too hard,” Ciar said. “Ellair was only ever meant tae be a hired sword, a tool fer ye tae use and discard when ye were done. Why are ye so upset? He kent what he was gettin’ intae when he took yer gold. He kent somethin’ bad befallin’ him was a possibility. Same as me. Same as every other man in yer employ.”
“And dae ye nae think I’d be just as upset if I thought somethin’ happened tae ye?”
“Aye. I’d hope ye would,” he said with a chuckle. “But ye and I have been taegether a long time. Ye’ve kent Ellair fer but a fewweeks now. Is there some other reason ye’re so upset about this, Rosey? Somethin’ ye need tae tell me?”
Rosalind opened her mouth to respond but closed it again and didn’t say a word. She knew he would see through her. Knew that if she spoke a single word, Ciar would know her true feelings for Ellair. They were still new, but they were growing in strength, rapidly. The merest glance from those icy blue eyes of his sent her heart racing, her stomach churning, making her feel like a giddy little girl.
It was foolish, she knew. Ciar was right, Ellair had been hired for his sword. Men came and went, and some had fallen in her service, and though she’d felt the sting of guilt, none of them had opened up the yawning chasm of despair inside her the mere thought of losing Ellair did.
She grumbled to herself, restless and worried. Despite what Ciar said, she knew Ellair should have been back by now. Something was wrong. She was absolutely sure of it and Rosalind had to do something about it.
“I want ye tae go question yer men,” she ordered in a firm, cool voice. “I want tae ken why they didnae show up at the rendezvous spot and go with Ellair.”
“Rosey—”
“I want tae ken, Ciar,” she said. “And if I dinnae like their answers, I’ll figure out what tae dae with them them. They need tae be held accountable.”
“’Twas probably a simple mistake. Maybe Ellair left early.”
“Maybe. But I want tae ken. Ellair is a valuable sword and nae havin’ him at our backs, especially as ye heal up, is a problem fer us.”
“Rosey, be reasonable?—”
“I said I want ye tae go question yer men. I mean really question them and get tae the bottom of this, Ciar,” she snapped. “We cannae afford these kinds of failures. I’m sure even ye can agree with that, eh?”
He sighed heavily. “All right, lass. I’ll go talk tae the lads. But I’m tellin’ ye, there’s goin’ tae be a reasonable explanation fer this.”
“There better be. But I’ll tell ye, if I’m nae satisfied with their answers, there will be hell tae pay, Ciar. I mean it.”
“Understood.”
Ciar walked out of the house, and she waited, listening to his heavy footsteps ebb before dashing upstairs and into her bedroom. She quickly changed into an outfit she wore when she wanted to blend in with the people on the docks and not be recognized. She tucked her hair up into the woolen cap, shrugged into the heavy woolen jacket, and pulled on the thick black trousers. She put on her dark, knee-high boots then paused as her gaze fell upon the pair of daggers sitting on thetable, memories of having used one so recently still fresh in her mind.
With a trembling hand, Rosalind grabbed them, tucked them into her belt and pulled her coat over them. She gave herself a glance in her looking glass then tugged her hat a bit lower while raising the collar of her coat. Satisfied, she turned and dashed out of the house, making it through the gate and out onto the streets.
The sun was already dipping below the horizon when she reached the warehouse district of Thurso. She knew the docks and the part of town around it would be bustling and lively already, meaning this section of town, now that the workday was done, would be empty. It was what she had been counting on, and she hadn’t been disappointed. The streets were largely empty, with everybody having gone down to the docks to seek their entertainment for the evening.
Rosalind made her way through the town, carefully moving through the back alleys and side streets to avoid being detected. Sweat was beaded on her brow and made her shirt stick uncomfortably to her skin beneath her coat once she made it to the alley just beyond the warehouse where she’d sent Ellair. She peeked around the corner and spotted four guards outside the front door. They appeared to be passing a bottle between themselves and even from where she stood, Rosalind could hear their boisterous laughter as they settled in for the night.
She followed the route through the alleys she’d told Ellair to take, coming out on the western side of the warehouse. Thewindow he had likely gone through was still propped open. Rosalind scampered up and through the window. She landed on the hard packed earthen floor softly and paused, listening for anybody moving through the darkness.
The interior of the warehouse was gloomy, but still light enough to see. She navigated her way through the warren of crates and boxes. She came around a particularly tall stack of barrels and stopped short, a gasp bursting from her mouth. On the ground in front of her lay Ellair, lying slumped over on his side, his hands bound behind his back. He’d been beaten and bloodied, one eye nearly closed, thick crimson rivulets running from his nose and mouth.
As if he’d heard her gasp, he raised his head and groaned. He grimaced in pain as he moved his head and when his one good eye fixed on her, she saw an expression cross his face she didn’t recognize at first. It took a moment to realize he was staring at her with a look of absolute terror on his face—something she never thought she’d see from the swordsman.
