Page 80 of Sutherland's Secret
He slid off Galad and helped Eleanor dismount. Thomas watched them closely. Eleanor tore herself out of Brice’s arms and ran to her brother, throwing her arms around him and hugging him tight.
Thomas held her for a long moment while Brice handed the reins to the groom and instructed him to rub the horses down.
He tried not to let his heart break, but seeing Eleanor in her brother’s arms was almost too much to handle.
—
Eleanor pulled away from Thomas and touched his face. “What are you doing here?” she asked in wonder.
“Looking for you.”
It was so good to hear his voice. It reminded her of home and made her homesick.
“How are Mother and Father?” she asked, anxious to hear more.
“Worried about you.”
Thomas looked around, craning his neck to look up at the castle. “Where in the bloody hell are we?”
“We need to get inside,” Brice said, striding up to them. Eleanor turned to him with a wide smile but saw the look in his eyes and stopped what she was about to say. She’d never seen him look so bleak. It occurred to her that everything was going to change now that Thomas was here.
“Come, Thomas.” She motioned for Thomas to follow them into the great hall.
People stopped to look at the new arrival. Thomas shifted beside her. “Eleanor—”
“It’s fine, Thomas. These are my friends.”
He appeared skeptical but remained silent while Eleanor followed Brice up the steps and into his solar. Brice closed the door and turned to face them. Eleanor went to Brice to stand beside him.
“Thomas, I would like you to meet Brice Sutherland, chief of clan Sutherland and Earl of Dornach. Brice, my brother, Lord Thomas Stiles, Viscount Scarbrough.”
The two men eyed each other warily. They nodded but didn’t shake hands.
“Brice saved my life, Thomas.”
Thomas was the one to finally give in. “I thank you, my lord.”
“Call me Brice. We don’t stand on formalities here.”
Thomas nodded.
The tension in the air was palpable, and it increased Eleanor’s anxiety. She desperately wanted Brice and her brother to get along. They were both important men in her life.
“Where have you been, Eleanor? Why haven’t you answered our letters or written to let us know you were alive and well?”
She hesitated and looked at Brice. He was leaning against the front of his desk, his cool blue eyes watching her. Obviously it was up to her to tell the story. “I think we should all sit down,” she said, her voice trembling a bit. She’d never considered that telling her family about her plight would be so disconcerting.
Thomas glanced at Brice, who seemed to be glowering at Thomas. “I’ll stand,” her brother said.
“You two are being impossible.” But neither of them was listening to her, too busy measuring each other.
Thomas, Eleanor knew, was a staunch supporter of England and was not fond of the Jacobites. And while Brice had not fought at Culloden, he supported the Jacobite cause. Thomas was polished and Brice was a Highland warrior. The differences were magnified as the two men faced off. Eleanor loved them both and was frustrated that they could not see past their dislike.
“Why don’t ye tell us what ye know about Eleanor’s disappearance?” Brice said.
Thomas stiffened. Eleanor shot him a pleading look, but Thomas always had been a bit difficult. He was a viscount in his own right and had been raised to inherit the earldom after their father. He didn’t take kindly to being told what to do, and Brice liked to tell people what to do.
“We heard of the death of Charles.” Thomas looked at Eleanor in sympathy.
