Page 78 of A Flawed Scotsman

And yet, knowing her own clan was under threat made it hard to settle. She looked to Elspeth. “Where is yer family?”

The woman’s lips curved. “Not too far from here. They live in a small village, Kildonan.” She motioned with her arm past the forest. “In that direction. Ceilidh’s family lives there, as well.”

Esme frowned. “Mine is so far. I am constantly worried for their safety. If they are attacked, there is no way for us to get there in time to help. Two days’ journey without stopping is much too far.”

Elspeth studied her for a moment. “Ye should not live in fear. I am sure yer father will have come up with ways to ensure the safety of the people.”

“By marrying my brother to one of them,” she grumbled. “I hope it does not come to that.”

In the distance, a rider approached the gates. After speaking to the guards, he was allowed in. Esme hoped it was a messenger from her family and letters from her mother and Catriona. Yet, she forced a slow pace not wishing to be disappointed, but instead to remain hopeful for a bit longer.

“Two letters for ye,” Merida, Tristan’s wife, said, motioning to the table where she sat with a babe on her lap. “The messenger is in the kitchen about to be fed.”

Unable to keep from it, Esme dropped her flowers on the closest table and rushed to pick up the parchments. She then went to sit by the hearth to read in private.

The first was from her mother. The letter was overly bright and pleasant, which made Esme suspicious. Catriona’s letter was a contrast. Her friend told her of the tensions in the keep. How guards were on edge. Her companion, Flora, kept Catriona abreast of all that happened, which implied her friend had yet to leave the chamber.

Esme’s breathing quickened at news that Keithen had been gone for two days at the time Catriona wrote. The excuse had been that he’d gone hunting. But like Esme, Catriona was suspicious of her brother going hunting alone when their clan remained under threat.

What if he’d been taken by the Mackenzie? If that horrid man hurt her brother, Esme vowed to kill him herself. It was hard, but she continued reading.

As soon as I learn more about Keithen, I will send a missive. Although I am hesitant to believe he has been taken, I am fearful of the true reason for his absence.

I miss ye and am hopeful that ye have found happiness with yer new husband and in yer new home.

Esme closed her eyes and considered how different her life was and yet the cloud of the Mackenzie’s threat hung over her head even there, from so far away.

Just as she folded the parchment, she caught sight of a maid hurrying to the kitchen and Esme followed. There, in the center of the large room, the messenger sat with a large platter of food in front of him and a tankard at his elbow.

Moira, the cook, smiled widely. “Would ye like some cider, Lady Esme?”

“No, thank ye,” Esme replied and looked to the messenger who scrambled to his feet. “Please sit and eat. I came to thank ye for bringing news. Tell me, how does my father fare?”

“He is well, Lady Esme. Of good health.”

Despite the urge to roll her eyes at the practiced answer, she smiled. “I am grateful. Did my brother send me any message?”

The messenger shook his head. “No. He was not about when I was sent to come here.”

“I was hoping to hear from him. How does he fare?”

This time, the messenger swallowed. “I do not know, Lady Esme. I have not seen him as of late.”

Esme let out a breath she wasn’t aware she had been holding. “I pray he is well.”

“I am sure he is,” the messenger replied.

Deciding to allow the man to eat, she turned to the door, but then stopped. “I will be sending back letters as well. I am sure someone will show ye a place to rest and sleep tonight.”

Her mind awhirl, instead of turning back toward the great room, Esme headed outside. Once in the courtyard, she looked around until she spotted Ruari at the corral with the beast of a horse. Admittedly, the animal had become tamer, but a barely restrained ferocity was clear in the way it shifted and pawed at the grown.

When Esme neared, the horse’s grunting noises were a bit unsettling. “Is the horse considering murder?” She eyed the animal with distrust.

“That is a good assumption. He clearly is not one to ever accept being dominated.” As if to prove his agreement, the animal reared up, its huge hooves pawing the air.

Ruari did not release his hold on the strap around the animal’s neck. Instead, when its hooves landed on the ground, he ran a hand down the animal’s nose, soothing it.

When he untied the strap and loosed the beast, the animal trotted in a circle while shaking its long mane.