Page 79 of The Defiance of a Scottish Heart
“Where are you, Taskill? Are you that slow?” She stood on the stone step in front of the cottage, looking into the copse between them.
He thought of hiding, making her come back searching for him, but he couldn’t do it. They’d been through enough.
Sheona had been through enough. “I’m coming. I just can’t keep up with you. When did you get so fast, lass?” He burst through the trees, laughing.
But the sight in front of him caught him short. Sheona held on to her mantle as if it might disappear.
“Taskill?”
“What the hell?” was all he could get out. “What happened?”
She looked back at him, wide-eyed. “Naught. I opened the door and the entire cottage disappeared. Am I daft?”
Taskill did what he wished to do. He strode up to her and wrapped his arms around her. “You are the farthest thing from daft I’ve ever met. It’s proof that the cottage was arranged by an angel. That guardian angel, Lia.”
“And she took it back.”
“Those are our bags, though I know not how Lia saved them from the sea, so we head to Tristan’s land. Agreed?” His armdropped and reached for his saddlebag. “And here are my boots! All dry.”
“Are we both daft, Taskill? No one will ever believe us.”
“Nay, we’re not daft. And I know two people who will believe us.”
“Who?”
“Avelina and Dyna. Let’s go before anything else happens.” He took Sheona’s hand in his and they headed back toward the sand dune, one they climbed much slower this time. Probably because he had a growing fear deep in his belly.
Would Tristan’s castle still be there?
Or had they imagined that too?
Chapter Forty-One
Tristan
Tristan MacClane knew something was going on among his men. He hadn’t determined who yet, but he knew they had something planned.
He needed to find out exactly what it was and which guard was guilty.
After his sister Nala had been murdered by her husband, alongside every other villager in their small grouping outside his uncle’s mainland castle, Tristan always looked over his shoulder, afraid one of Kelvan’s evil men had taken over the dead man’s position.
The clans on Mull had banded together to put an end to Kelvan’s attack on bairns, but strange things were happening again, and he didn’t like it. Merryn had left with her husband for McLean Castle, somewhere she would be safe, but she still had to get there without any delays.
Losing her in addition to Nala and his parents would be more than he could bear. Nala’s daughter was at Duart Castle with the Granthams, one of the safest places of all in his mind.
But things were off again, and he had a bad feeling deep in his belly.
Merryn and Broc had gotten off without any problems in his uncle’s galley ship, one that would get them there without issue.
Then why were the men not acting right? He leaned over the parapets, a good place for him to hide because he could overhear much of their conversations without them knowing it.
“What are you always looking over the sea for?” the first guard asked.
A second one said, “The fool is always dreaming of some daft way to make coin. Do you think it will rise up from the sea?” He chuckled heartily.
“We have to find her,” one said, an evil lilt to his voice. One Tristan did not like but could not recognize since he was too far away.
“Why?”
