William raised an eyebrow. “Was it now? Canna say I’m either surprised or sorry. That nest of pirates has been a boil on the arse of this region for long enough. If it lay within my lands, I would have wiped it out years ago.”
“It was attacked by raiders—although it’s unclear whether they were homegrown or foreign.” Again, he watched his father’s reaction carefully.
“Well whoever attacked them, they have my thanks. Saves me a job.” He waved his hand as if already bored with this audience. “Fine. I will grant ye hospitality as I am honor bound to do. Conclude yer business and get gone. I’m sick of the sight of ye already.”
Conall bowed. “Thank ye, Father.” He straightened and looked at William as though he’d just thought of something. “Where is my stepmother?”
A flicker of unease passed across his father’s face, the only emotion other than disdain that Conall had seen. “She isnae here. She’s conducting business elsewhere although she should be back in a few days.”
“I hope I’m here when she returns,” Conall said politely. “It would be good to see her again.”
With that, he turned stiffly and, with Molly walking by his side, followed the guards from the room. It was difficult not to feel like a prisoner.
Chapter 15
Molly chewed her bottomlip, staring out of the window. She’d been given a room in one corner of the Pinnacle, about three floors up from the gates and it had a stunning view of the loch and the river. She thought if she squinted enough she might even be able to see the sea. But the beauty of the view was lost on her. She had too much to think about.
With a huff, she leaned back against the wall. Like everything in the Pinnacle, even this was expensively decorated. Not bare stone walls like she’d seen in Lanwick, oh no. Here the walls were covered with ornately carved wooden paneling in a soft oak color that had been polished until it shone. Heavy drapes hung from the windows and thick rugs covered the polished flagstone floors. In fact, everything in her guest room spoke of wealth and power, from the huge four-poster bed, to the plush chairs, to the enormous fireplace that took up one wall. Whatever else he was, Conall’s father was clearly a very wealthy man.
Conall’s father. An earl. So what did that make Conall?
Her thoughts turned to her own father. He wasn’t a nobleman. He wasn’t a man of wealth and influence, just an honest sailor who’d worked his whole life to provide for his family. She sighed. What was he doing right now? Was he missing her? Was he going frantic looking for her? Or did time-travel not work that way and in actual fact she’d only been gone a fraction of a second?
She squeezed her eyes shut. What advice would he give her right now if he was here? What words of encouragement would he speak in that soft way of his?
Follow yer heart, he would say.Trust yerself.
But how was she supposed to do that when she didn’t know what her heart was telling her? How was she supposed to trust herself when she hadn’t got a clue what was going on?
Agh! She threw herself into one of the plush chairs and put her feet up on the low table. Her dirty boots left mud on the polished top but she didn’t remove them. She was tired. Exhausted. But as she laid her head back against the chair, her thoughts swirled so much that she knew she wouldn’t get any sleep even if she tried.
There was a knock on the door. Molly jerked up straight. “Who...who is it?”
A muffled voice spoke through the wood. “It’s me. Conall. May I come in?”
She jumped up and jerked the door open. Conall stood on the other side, one hand on the door jamb, giving her a wry, lopsided smile.
