“Geoffrey!” He heard his father call out to their cousin and owner of The Doomsday Inn and Tavern. “A word.”
“Brother, are they here?” Ealar whispered, racing up behind him.
“So I am told,” Logan whispered back, stopping to turn to his brother. “Dinna follow me. He has a pistol, Ealar.”
His brother, who impossibly wore the faces of innocence and wickedness at the same time, grinned and held up a pistol. “So do I.”
Logan’s expression grew dark and stern. “Ealar, stay here.”
He turned and left without hearing another word.
Until his father called out his name with urgency staining his voice. Logan returned to the top of the stairs.
“Third door, left,” his father said, reaching him, then kept going.
Logan took the lead, but his father stopped him. “Son, she is alone. No need to frighten her further.”
“Alone?” Logan repeated, not ready to hear such words. Was she hurt? He raced to the third door, then paused, fighting the urge to kick it down. He knocked instead and pressed his ear to the door.
“Elspeth? Elspeth?” Louder.
“Logan?” she cried out on the other side of the door—which was now Logan’s worst enemy. “Logan, is that ye?”
“Aye, love, ’tis me.” He hit his palms against the door, wanting to get in.
“’Tis locked,” she told him.
He backed up to kick it in.
His father stepped in front of him and shoved the key into the keyhole.
The instant the door was open, Logan rushed inside. He didn’t stop right away to look her over for any signs of injury but took her in his arms and held her close, so thankful she was safe.
Finally, he held her back at arm’s length and took a good look at her. “Are ye hurt?” He knew he looked like a pitiful sot; he tried not to sound like one too. But he was afraid it was no use.
She shook her head. “Nae, I am not.”
Silence reigned between them, though they wanted to say so much. They were not alone.
Ealar leaned his shoulder on the door, looking inside with a smile more in his eyes than on his lips.
“Miss Woodburn, any idea where yer brother went?” his father asked her, making at least one of his sons cast his gaze heavenward.
“I’m not certain, my lord. But he did mention Helen more than once on the way here.”
“Helen?” Ealar added, lifting off the door.
“Aye,” she confirmed. “It seems my brother is her master and lover. ’Twas she who drugged me the first time I wandered off.”
“Where is this Helen now?” his father asked.
“The lads brought her to Tor fer punishment from ye,” Logan told him. “Did ye no’ meet her yet?”
“Nae, there was no time. She will be dealt with.”
Logan gazed at Elspeth while his father spoke. Poor lass had been through so much. After just a moment, he could no longer stand it and moved closer to take her in his arms again.
Logan heard the sound of his father and brother leaving the room. “Elspeth,” he whispered to her when they were alone. “I am here now. Bein’ in battle so many times has taught me that the best way to heal from the horrors of it is to speak of it. Just as ’tis with my arm, use it and dinna ignore it.” He took in a long breath, frustrated with himself for being unable to explain what he meant.
