Page 41 of Bond of a Bewitched Highlander

Right now, the forgetting spell was holding strong, but it might weaken over time. 'Twas not a full-blown curse but a weaker, temporary incantation. And the mute spell was much the same.

Earlier, during the raid, Wilona had not known Elsea was on one of Talnaroch's galleys. Why was she involved? Were she and the earl still lovers? If so, that would be rich, especially after Brodie had rescued her. Either way, Wilona had to get Elsea away from Brodie. 'Twould be disastrous if they fell in love again, for that would destroy his curse. Revenge would slip through her fingers.

Wilona must keep the wench from revealing anything to him, and he must never ken the truth about the past.

More determined and energized than she had been in ages, Wilona rose and approached the cave's exit. The fierce wind lashed, and the surf roared.

She shifted into the storm petrel, then launched herself off the sand and into the wind. It attempted to toss her about in the air, but this bird was designed for the challenge.

***

ELSEA'S THOUGHTS FLOATED away like mist as she stared out the window. She would think of something, and then a moment later, it drifted away. Her clearest memories were of her childhood. Her head injury had certainly done some damage.

The maids had washed her hair and helped her bathe. She'd put on a clean, dry nightgown, even though 'twas before noon, but had no notion who it belonged to.

When she had pulled off her smock earlier, she'd been surprised to find a sapphire ring tied to a cord around her neck. She'd felt it earlier, but thought it was her favorite pendant, the one her da had given her for her birthday. Instead, it was this mysterious ring. One of the maids had stared at it, her eyes wide but said naught. Elsea kept the makeshift necklace on, hidden beneath the gown, for it must have been important to her at one time.

The maids had gasped when they had seen the sheathed knives on her calves, strapped on over the trews, and the empty leather sheathes on her forearms. They had removed them along with her damp trews. Her brothers would be annoyed with her for losing so many weapons. She was especially heartbroken over losing her prized Highland dirk, which she'd worn on her belt for years.

After the maids had left, she'd strapped on her sheaths again, then moved one sgian dubh to her forearm within easy reach and kept one on her calf. She didn't ken who she could trust here. What of her parents and her four brothers? Did they ken she was here? Would they search for her?

She paced to the table. One of the kitchen maids had left a wooden tray with porridge, bread, and ale. Elsea had eaten a few bites, but she had no appetite. Her head still ached.

She was too antsy to go to bed, even though exhaustion dragged at her. She paced to the window again and looked out over the gray sea and the rocky shoreline beneath the tempestuous sky. Sunlight faded in and out of the billowing white clouds. A parterre lay far below, just beneath the window, inside the curtain wall. It contained a couple of benches, herbs, and roses. Though autumn had arrived, a few pink blooms persisted.

The view was somewhat familiar, mayhap because she had seen the sea several times. But Farspag had to be quite a distance from Kincreag, because her home was farther inland. Who had brought her to the coast, or had she ridden alone? Nay, she'd been on a galley, but that made no sense. 'Twas impossible to take a galley from Kincreag to the coast, unless she traveled to a sea loch first.

She had never been so confused.

Earlier, when Brodie had asked her when they had first met, Elsea knew she'd given the wrong answer, based on the disbelieving look in his eyes. But she honestly couldn't remember him before that morn.

When she'd asked him the same question, at first, she was unsure whether he would answer. Hesitating, he'd looked away, then finally said, "Over two years ago."

She still couldn't grasp it. Had she known him that long? Or had they only met briefly one time? What had been the nature of their association?

Besides that, some of his men knew who she was, so she must have met all of them before. They'd said her name and eyed her in disbelief, some glaring. Why?

Pain shot through her head, and thinking hard made it worse. She sat near the hearth, hoping her hair would dry soon.

Recalling naught from the past three years disturbed her... if she was one-and-twenty now.

Would Brodie help her get back home? Why had she left home to begin with? She tried hard to dredge up a recent memory, but couldn't. Her head pain was growing worse.

A light knock sounded at the door. She rose and opened it. Amy, the young maid who had helped her earlier, entered. She wore her brown hair pulled back into a bun.

"The physician bid me to bring you this. 'Tis a warm tisane of willow bark and herbs for the pain in your head and to help you sleep."

Elsea nodded, for she had heard of this. She did not believe Finnian would wish to harm her. He was a kind old man, surely. She drank the tisane, and though 'twas bitter, she choked it down.

Still unable to speak, she nodded her thanks. The maid curtsied and left.

Soon, the herbs worked their magic, and she grew sleepy.

She crawled beneath the blankets and counterpane. After getting warm, she drifted into dreams.

A woman lurked there, in the shadowy recesses of her mind. She stepped out, the candlelight glaring off her flaming ginger hair. Her green eyes, the color of poison hemlock, narrowed. She looked vaguely familiar, but Elsea couldn't place her.

"You are to convince someone to take you back to your brother's home forthwith. Or you will regret it."