Annabeth sighed deeply, her shoulders slumping as she met Elena’s gaze. “I daenae ken what to do, Elena,” she confessed, her voice tinged with frustration. “Marcus has been on me mind day and night, and I’m leavin’ soon, but I cannae shake this feelin’. I’ve never felt this way before, and it frightens me.” She bit her lip, unsure of how much to reveal, but the truth spilled out in a rush.
Elena studied her, her brow furrowed in thought before her expression softened with understanding. “Annabeth, ye’ve got to follow yer heart,” she advised, her voice gentle but firm. “It’ll nae steer ye wrong. If yer heart is pullin’ ye toward the Laird, then ye’ve got to let it. Ye cannae let fear hold ye back.”
“But I’ve got nay place in his world,” Annabeth murmured, her hands twisting in the fabric of her dress. “I’m just a healer. I daenae belong with someone like Marcus.” She shook her head, her breath quickening as doubt crept in once more. “I cannae see a way forward.”
Elena stepped closer, placing a hand on Annabeth’s arm to steady her. “Ye think too much, lass,” she said softly. “Marcus may be a laird, but he’s a man too, with his own struggles and feelings. He willnae care what ye were born into. If ye care for him, there’s nay reason to let anythin’ stop ye.”
Annabeth met Elena’s gaze, her eyes filled with uncertainty but a flicker of hope. “I think I do care for him,” she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. But I cannae tell if he feels the same.”
Elena smiled kindly, her expression reassuring. “Ye willnae ken until ye speak yer heart, Annabeth,” she said gently. “Daenae leave with doubt in yer heart. If ye love him, tell him. Ye may find what ye’ve been searchin’ for.”
Annabeth nodded slowly, a mix of fear and longing swirling inside her. “I’ll think on it,” she replied though part of her knew it was time to face the truth. She couldn’t keep running from herfeelings. With Elena’s encouragement, maybe, just maybe, she would finally find the courage to tell Marcus how she truly felt.
The hurried footsteps of a maid echoed through the hall as she passed by Annabeth and Elena, her face tight with worry. She barely noticed them as she rushed, but Annabeth caught her arm. “What’s wrong, lass?” Annabeth asked, concern rising in her voice. The maid, breathless, turned to face her, her eyes wide with distress.
“The castle’s in an uproar,” the maid exclaimed, her hands wringing. “Laird McArthur has arrived, and there’s a meetin’ between him and Laird McLennan in the great hall. It’s all anyone’s talkin’ about, and nay one kens what’s goin’ on.” Annabeth and Elena exchanged a glance, their expressions filled with unease.
“Thank ye for tellin’ me,” Annabeth said, her tone steady despite the concern growing within her. The maid nodded, quickly disappearing down the hallway as if her urgency had pulled her away. Annabeth and Elena stood in silence for a moment, both wondering what had brought the McArthur laird here.
“He must have come for a reason,” Elena muttered, her brow furrowing. “Perhaps somethin’ to do with the clan’s troubles?”
Annabeth nodded slowly, deep in thought. “Aye, could be. But what exactly does he want with Marcus?” she mused aloud, worry creeping into her voice. She felt an unease settle in her chest, a feeling she couldn’t quite shake.
Annabeth shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. “Let’s nae fret over it just now,” she said, trying to focus. “I need to feed the fox. We’ll find out soon enough what’s goin’ on.” She motioned for Elena to follow her as she turned toward the stairs.
As they reached Annabeth’s room, the realization hit her like a cold wave. “I need more milk for the fox. I’ll just take it down to the kitchen and fetch some.”
Elena gave her a brief nod. “I need to get some work done.”
Annabeth smiled faintly, grateful for her friend’s calm presence, and slipped out of the room, fox in tow. The hallway seemed unusually silent as she made her way toward the kitchens.
The air grew colder the closer she got to the kitchen, the stone floors chill beneath her boots. She could hear voices faintly as she approached, the hum of activity filling the space. Annabeth quickly found the kitchen door ajar, and she entered, holding the fox close to her chest. The kitchen was bustling with servants, but Annabeth made her way to the supply cupboard to fetch the milk.
The sound of pots crashing onto the floor as a kitchen maid dropped them made the fox squirm in her arms. Then it leapt from her and scurried away.
“Come back!" She quickened her steps looking under the tables to search for it. The squeal of a maid in the distance forced her to go in that direction as she bit her lip knowing she was causing trouble.
Trouble that came from the direction of the meeting hall.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Marcus stood tall, his posture tense as he faced Anthony. Marcus’ voice was steady but laced with frustration.
“Anthony, I swear to ye, I’ve nae ordered any attacks against yer clan. If yer cattle are bein’ harmed, it’s nae the work of the MacLennans. Someone’s workin’ to turn us against each other.”
Anthony folded his arms, his steely gaze never leaving Marcus’ face. “Aye, it’s easy to say such things, Marcus. But the McArthur clan’s herds have been maimed, fences torn down, and livestock stolen. And daenae forget—the MacLennans had nay issue takin’ the MacGregor herds when ye went to war with them. Why should I believe ye now?”
Marcus’ jaw clenched, his scarred cheek twitching with the effort to hold back his temper. “We didnae attack the MacGregors’ herds. Those were lies spread to justify their aggression against us. If someone’s sayin’ the same of us now, they’re tryin’ to pit us against one another.”
Anthony took a step closer, his voice dropping into a growl. “Then prove it. Find whoever’s behind this treachery, or I’ll take it as a declaration of war. Me clan willnae suffer further while ye claim innocence.”
Eli, standing at Marcus’ side, exchanged a sharp look with him, his brows furrowed in alarm. “Laird, ye ken we’ve done nay such thin’. Why would we risk the peace we’ve fought so hard to maintain?”
Marcus’ eyes narrowed, his mind racing to piece together the puzzle. “Exactly, Eli. This reeks of someone stirrin’ the pot to cause discord. Anthony, if ye give me time, I’ll uncover the truth and show ye it’s nae us behind these attacks.”
Anthony scoffed, his mistrust clear. “Time? While yer clan thrives, mine bleeds. I’ll nae sit idle while ye spin tales, Marcus.”
Marcus stepped forward, his voice rising with conviction. “And I’ll nae let me clan’s name be dragged through the muck without cause! Ye have me word—I’ll find the truth. But ye must see reason, Anthony. If we fight amongst ourselves, we’ll leave all of us vulnerable to whoever’s truly behind this.”
